About Me

Updated Oct 24 2018: Read Another version of my conversion story.

I’m a convert [now 61, oh my!] who was received into Holy Mother Church one year after Rosalind Moss was–1995 her, 1996 me. (My handle, Disciple96, refers to that marvelous year and not to my birth date, though it could be said to mark my re-birth date. That’s how it felt then and still feels now.) I began as a Methodist but my immediate family was not very strong in the faith. (Well, not as strong as my Grandmother, who was probably a Saint, capital S! She was a true disciple of Christ. I know I can’t canonize her, but her holiness was known to all who knew her.) I loved the church, went to Sunday School and Youth Fellowship, sang in the choir from when I was a little girl through high school, singing in ensembles, until I left for college.

Oy, college! And that’s where I started to drift. I had always had questions about Christianity (as in, how does it work, huh?) and I could never find answers that made sense to me. I could see my Grandmother reading the Bible and praying and living a very Christ-like life, always giving to others in her neighborhood and her church and her family, even though she lived as if she were very poor. She spent all her money and energy and love on others.

But I still couldn’t make sense of it all. (I wish I could talk to my Grandmother now about the interior life and following Christ.) So I started studying philosophy and psychology in college. And didn’t find any real answers there. Went on to search for truth along many different paths. Didn’t find much convincing help there. Ended up finding a (temporary) home in Eastern religion, became a practicing Buddhist for several years, but I was always uncomfortable with its agnosticism (and downright atheism, in some branches of study). (And I had an interesting habit of addressing my Buddhist “prayers” to “Father” or “Our Father.” The Lord was probably just shakin’ His head. ;) ) I was always on the lookout for anything that would help me understand Christianity, and, surprisingly perhaps, this long search did help me begin to understand a few things.

On the Road to Emmaus
On the Road to Emmaus

Then a friend asked me to look into Catholicism. I was indignant. “Are you suggesting that I convert? That’s fine for you, but I’m a Buddhist!” Well, after several heated arguments and knockdown dragout fights, I said, “Okay, I’ll look into it,” thinking to myself, I can add it to my ridiculously long list of religious misadventures. I was already working in a Catholic bookstore and reading and listening to some tapes. My friend was going to take a Catechism class and I asked if I could take the class too. After she regained consciousness, she said yeah.

Well, to make a long story longer, I asked the priest who had taught the class (after the original facilitator couldn’t continue due to illness) if I could take convert classes. I fell in love with Christ and His Church and during the Easter Vigil 1996, I received Confirmation and First Holy Communion. I was grinning and giddy like a young bride. Well, young-ish.

Here I am, all these years later. I’ve been through some struggles; I’ve left and come back; and I feel that even after all this time, I’m only just beginning to understand. Just beginning to see. Just beginning to let the Lord’s ways and His love sink in and melt my hard heart.

Read more in Another version of my conversion story posted Dec 28 2012 or in an older post at the forums at Catholic Answers. (Forum link no longer works since they reorganized their site, my old username doesn’t even work now. Maybe I kept the post somewhere. Sigh.)