Finding my way…(a walk in faith)

When I was a little girl, probably around 5 or so, my mom would get my sisters and I ready for church every Sunday. I remember being bored at church sometimes and not really understanding all that was going on but that’s what we did when I was little on Sundays. Then after mass, especially on Easter Sundays, we would walk to this little Colombian Restaurant and my dad would treat us all for lunch. That was my favorite part about going to church and it was our tradition…until it wasn’t. 

I don’t remember when exactly we stopped going to church regularly or why my parents stopped making it a priority. We just stopped going and as a kid I didn’t mind enough to ask why. Our little town house was filled with the image of God and Faith, and my mom kept a bible next to her bed. This is what being a Catholic meant to me. I didn’t know all of my prayers by heart, and I didn’t pray the rosary and I never read the Bible. If you asked me if I believed in God I would immediately say yes because I did, and I still do.  

Looking back now, while I claimed to be a Catholic, much of what I believed to be God’s will had nothing to do with God or his will for that matter. If I’m being honest, with you and with myself, I was making up my own rules that essentially made me “right” and if it was right in my mind then it must be right with God because I knew I was a good person. Well, spoiler alert, I was super wrong. 

When I got married I had a church wedding in the same church I went to as a kid. When I had my kids, I had them all baptized in that same church as well. I would pray in my times of need, or better said in my times of desperation. I hung pictures of the “Angel de la Guarda” above my kids bedroom door, and a picture of Jesus above my own, just like in my home growing up. I taught my kids their nighttime prayer in Spanish, and we would sometimes go to church on Easter Sunday. I did all the things I thought you were supposed to do as a catholic. I checked off all the major boxes that I believed made me a good Catholic.

Then my parents died. I held a mass for each of them in the very same church that we grew up knowing. I checked the box. After the initial shock of it all, after the funerals, and after the paperwork, I found myself going to a dark place. I was grieving and I was mad, and hurt, and felt guilt. I was angry at God for the series of events that brought me to this dark place. And yet, I could feel myself being called by God, I felt a pull, a desire to be closer to him. I can’t fully explain it, and I might sound crazy but I felt Him calling me. So I followed. I would go to church and just sit there. Sometimes, I would cry my eyes out, other times I would just sit in silence, not entirely sure what to do or what to say. In a small way I was hoping for some sort of miracle to happen while I sat there. The point is, I showed up. I bought myself a bible, the first bible I ever owned and started following the Bible In A Year podcast. I was allowing myself to be loved by God and little by little, I allowed Him to guide me closer to him. Now, I’m not saying that I’m this amazing catholic now who knows bible verses off the top of her head. But, what I am saying is, at the age of 43, I am finally walking towards God. It’s not perfect, I’m stumbling with every step I take and it’s not easy. If I’m being most honest, I’m on year two of Bible in a Year, because I keep allowing myself to get distracted. There is a lot of humbling that takes place when we choose to walk with God because God doesn’t want us to just believe in him, He wants us to belong to him. 

And as I learn the TRUE word of God, as I go on this journey to walk with God, there are things that my selfish self struggles with to accept and understand. Sometimes, I’m tempted to just forget it all, and keep living life in ignorance because it’s easier, because idolizing my own thoughts and desires and following the made up trend of the week feels easier than doing God’s will. But this is the beauty of God’s grace. He always holds out an offering of hope because He knows that we are good but we are broken. This isn’t a sprint, it is in fact a life long marathon, one that I am committed to. I know that I will fall over and over again and that life won’t always make sense but I do know that God will always be present even when we aren’t. He will always call us to belong to him, and it is with that promise, that certainty that God offers, that keeps me on this journey. I know that life has its ups and downs, I have lived through some already and I know that having God’s love with me during all of it feels so much better than trying to do it alone. 

If this journal entry spoke to you, I would love to hear about it in the comments below. Feel free to share this with someone who is also on their walk with God. Have you been wanting to take this journey with God and not sure how? Let’s walk together. You’re not alone.