Jason

It's tough to know exactly where to begin a personal tale, so I guess I'll just muddle through the best I can.

My childhood was rather a plain one. I was born on Christmas Day 1974 and baptized in the Lutheran church the following Easter. The extent of my religious training was from around age 4 until I was 16 and consisted of Sunday school -- not church, but Sunday School. My mom and dad would go to my grandma's house and after class, we'd all have a big Sunday dinner.

Since my dad worked shift work and my mom didn't drive, my aunt drove 10 miles out of town to get me and take my Sunday lessons. This lasted until I was 10 and then my best friend's mom started taking me to their Methodist church.

Being of an obvious male mentality, the fuzzy/squishy theology of the Methodists never really clicked with me, so when I got my license at 16, I got hit with a case of the fumes (gas fumes and per-fumes). I thought, "K, I've learned what I need to know about God, so I'm done."

Once in college, I bought into the whole "the only truth is that there is no truth" mentality and basically lived my life as a "good person." So, I was free to live my life on my own terms, and I did. Nothing like drugs or binge drinking, I had too much common sense and pride in myself for that, but I was on a rather easy path to Hell.

One day in the karate class I was attending, we were working on wrist locks. The pair of ladies next to us were arguing. "Your not doing it right and it hurts! Let's ask them for help." (meaning my partner and me).

Well next thing I know, I'm paired up with the lovely young Catholic (lapsed) lady named Amanda and after class, I asked her out. Well things went along very well and we ended up marrying at 19 year olds.

The first 3 years of marriage were anything but wedded bliss, so I'll cut that part of the story short. However, one night things exploded. Amanda went to her class and I was left in our apartment with our toddler-daughter. It looked like the end of this marriage had come at last.

At this point, I did something I don't remember ever really doing before. I prayed. Not reciting words, but actually prayed. "God, help me. Things are so hard on kids nowadays that I don't want Jessie to come from a broken home. Help us work it out."

When Amanda got home, I was waiting for her. Not with the venom in my heart of 2 hours before, but with a serenity I never before had. She seemed altered too, so we talked and agreed to work it through. We both agreed that it would be touch and go because we're both so stubborn. We also agreed that we needed God in our lives if it would work. We started flip-flopping services - Catholic one weekend and Lutheran the next.

At this time, I worked for a company that was 95% Catholic and I mean CATHOLIC. Staunch defenders of the faith every one. I was also reading through Scripture and Luther's Confession. What I heard at work and in Scripture sounded more like what I was hearing at Mass than at my Lutheran church, but I still wasn't convinced.

Then, it happened. My wife dropped the bombshell. "I want to raise the kids Catholic."

WHAT!? No way.

I'm not asking you to convert, but I want to raise them Catholic. I got you this book (she hand's me The Catholic Church has the Answer) so that we can talk about what I believe.

It won't happen, I say and grabbed our daughter and left for my parent's house. When I got home that evening, I put Jessie to bed and went to our room without even talking to Amanda. I locked the door and read every page of that booklet.

About an hour later, I came out and said, "I'm sorry about earlier. We need to talk. I've got questions and I need answers. I'm not promising I'll convert, but you can raise the kids Catholic."

A week later, they were baptized (we also had Aidan at this point). My wife and I also had our marriage blessed by the Church (it was nearing our 5th anniversary, so I thought it'd be cool). While we were signing the parish register, I asked, "Fr.....uh.....when do those...uh....Catholic classes start. I need some answers."

Amanda looked delighted. "Are you serious?!!"

Well, RCIA was interesting. What I heard at work and what I was reading on my own was much more informational than what I learned at RCIA. I had the usual Protestant fears...Mary, purgatory, the Eucharist, etc. But I fell in love with Mary and could see the logic of purgatory. The Eucharist was my stumbling block.

Right before the Great Easter Vigil, I told the RCIA teacher, "I can't go through with this. I can't believe that that bread is the Body of Christ. I can't."

She actually laughed at me. "That's nonsense. That's just the devil trying to give you cold feet. I've heard you talk, Jason and you do believe it. Come into the Church and work it out afterward."

Not the best advice, but there it is. So I went through with it as planned. The Confirmation rite came and went and then my name was called to receive my First Holy Communion.

I stood there. "The Body of Christ."

"Amen."

I consumed Our Lord and then something strange happened. Remember, I've received communion in a Lutheran Church and a Methodist church before, but nothing like this ever happened.

I heard these words in my head "I AM HERE!" WHY DO YOU DOUBT MY WORD." I felt Him in my very soul, but I'm stubborn and continued to doubt.

"The Blood of Christ" "Amen."

"I AM HERE MY SON. WHY DO YOU STILL DOUBT."

The next morning, Jessica (5 at this time) said, "Daddy, were you happy last night after receiving Communion?"

"Yes, honey, why?"

"Because you had the biggest smile on your face. I can't wait to receive Jesus."

Well that was 7 years ago and life has been a whole lot more beautiful since then. My wife and I have 8 children (5 here on Earth and 3 in Heaven) and continue to love and cherish each other. We love our Faith and can't imagine where we'd be without it.