I was born into a devout Catholic family, and have always been sorrounded by Church goers almost all my life. I studied pre-school in the Chuch of the Baby Jesus, grade school in St. Mary’s Academy, and rounded out the Holy Family by studying high school in St. Joseph’s Academy. As a young child I won awards in Bible quizzes. In school, religion subject was called Christian Living, and I always got high marks for that as well. In cathechism classes, I was a model student, and I can keep quiet and still during the Mass like nobody’s business. I used to memorize novenas and long prayers just for kicks. I’ve joined Church choirs, lectors and commentators, dancers, and actors for Church events. You could say It’s a very well-rounded Catholic experience all in all.
However, there has always been a part of me that’s not quite there when I go through all these motions. For that is how I’ve come to view them as I grew older, as motions that I have to through for appearances sake, or because they’re compulsary. I have always believed in God (“the Father Almighty” as that prayer goes), but I have never had a relationship with God. It was never personal. It was never by choice.
As is predictable with this sort of mindset, I began to draw away from Him. If there ever was a relationship between us, it became more and more casual. I stopped going to Church on Sundays, rationalizing that my mind wasn’t really there anyway when I do go, and that is usually just because my mother just told me to go. I still prayed every now and then, but it felt more like talking to myself at times. Even when really bad things happen to me, I talk to Him in my head as some sort of supreme being who watches over my life, but not without putting blame on Him, or getting mad at Him, because I don’t think I ever believed that the bad stuff came from Him, which is a good thing I guess, but then again I didn’t really believe He could do anything about it, or that it was supposed to get me closer to Him. Even now I can’t say that the “really bad things” were what drew me closer to Him. And when the good things started happening, I also didn’t thank Him enough or didn’t realize that He was the source of all my blessings when the blessings came to overflowing for me. I was that far removed from Him.
When I started going back to Church this year, I think I met Him for the first time in my life. Knowing His stories all my life, being able to recite the most basic and not so basic prayers, saying His teachings and commandments by rote… all these things are secondary and not nearly as satisfying as being close to him and knowing Him on a personal basis. Every day that I am aware of His being in my life in this capacity. He found me, and He knows me, and He saved me from myself and my arrogance.
I have a long long way to go as a Christian. I want to get to the point that I can think of my sins and not be wracked by guilt and crying my eyes out when I remember them. I want to close my eyes and find Him in my heart without even trying too hard. I want to know Him as much as I can. If I have to start from scratch again, then so be it. I would gladly go through the equivalent of kindergarten for Christians, if it would bring me closer to Him.
I have a long way to go, but I’m getting there, one baby step at a time.
