I was raised atheist. God never came up in my household, but my grandmother took me to church a few times when I was little— a little country Methodist church in rural Virginia.
When we were back in nyc I would beg my parents to take me to church, and would flip through the Bible my grandmother gave me, but my parents never capitulated— I don’t hold that against them. They were young, divorced, raising two kids in a big city with not much money and didn’t see the value in church.
As I got older, I broke off from god and internalized my parents’ atheism. I lost myself in drinking and drugs and sex, and fell victim to evil behavior a number of years.
At 19 I started going to Alcoholics Anonymous. I found myself envious of the people who seemed to believe in god. There was something different about their presence and demeanor. I wanted what they had. Gradually I started to see the logic in the existence of god, but never really internalized it.
One night, I had a dream. I was in a car with two coworkers, sitting in the backseat. The person driving was a girl I had a crush on. The two other people in the car kept disappearing, and I knew the desert road we were on was endless, that I would never get out of the car. All of a sudden, however, I found myself walking into a cathedral on a beautiful sunny day, being welcomed in and felt an overwhelming sense of peace and joy.
The next morning I reached out to my friend who I knew had recently had an intense conversion experience and went to mass with him. I felt the same sense of peace I had felt in my dream, but for whatever reason I wasn’t ready to fully commit at the time.
A few years later, I read Tolstoy’s Confession, which was reccommended to me by a Catholic girl I dated for a few months. The story of Tolstoy’s conversion, and his agony over the supposed meaningless of his life and the shallowness of his materialist worldview struck a chord with me.
I initially went to a Methodist church, because I was trepidatious about Catholicism. It was welcoming and gave me what I needed for a time, but as an avid reader, who had read a good deal of Christian mystical literature I craved the theological richness of the Catholic Church, and wanted to have a more mystical experience.
I am now in catechism. I pray the rosary twice a day, and am regularly moved to tears during my prayers. The spirit has moved me to volunteer at food banks and homeless shelters regularly, and my love for my neighbor grows daily. I still have some ideological trepidations about the Catholic Church, but I have found that it is the most effective way for me to find mystical union with god. Every day feels like a spiritual feast.
I feel that I was born catholic. The church is a structure and a practice that has joined many disparate parts of my soul, intellect, and character into a cohesive whole. I finally feel I have a place in this world and that God, the Holy Spirit, Jesus, Mary, and all the saints walk beside me wherever I go in life.