My Conversion

 On January 25th, we celebrate the Conversion of Saint Paul.The road to Damascus was not easily paved for me either. It took many meandering turns before God led me where He wanted me. Uncertainty about the new direction brought many questions: “Is this where You want me, Lord?” — and if so, “Give me a sign!” The sign was sitting right next to me (more on that later), but still more answers seemed necessary. When the journey toward the Holy Catholic Church began, no one in the family followed.Bringing young children along on this dusty road came with a price. Mike wanted nothing to do with it — not because he was so Catholic, but because he felt it was pulling the family apart. For years, that winding path of discovering who I was in Christ was building toward a dramatic turn. Like Paul, the collision was coming.

Bashing Catholics

Bible in hand and pride in full armor, it seemed clear that Catholics needed a wake-up call. After all, they prayed to saints and worshiped Mary — or so it seemed. Arrows were sharpened and placed in the quiver, ready for battle, because surely these poor Catholics needed salvation. The campaign launched. From an imaginary soapbox came warnings to friends about the dangers of the Catholic Church. And then, just like Paul, the high horse gave way — and the ground came up fast.

Two Women

The mission to convert the world to Protestant beliefs fell on deaf ears — thankfully. Two dear friends, unlike me, were richly catechized. They never challenged or questioned. They simply prayed. And somehow, that was enough.

The Sacrament of Confirmation

At one point, a nephew asked to have me as his Confirmation sponsor. Of course, the answer was yes. But a dear friend gently intervened — pointing out that sponsoring him wasn’t possible, because a practicing Catholic is required for that role. She went so far as to make an appointment with her parish priest to help sort things out. The priest explained it clearly. In arrogance, though, the words went in one ear and out the other. Travel arrangements were made for New Orleans — and then God intervened.

A Day Late

Arriving at the airport, the ticket read the following day. The Confirmation would be missed entirely. As it should have been — his brother stepped in as the rightful sponsor.

Born Again

The road to Damascus was paved with real growth. The years in the “Born Again” movement were not wasted — far from it. Biola University (Bible Institute of Los Angeles) became home for a season, where a Bachelor of Science degree was earned and another dream fulfilled by God’s grace. Biola in the ’90s did not admit Catholics — a detail that, in hindsight, simply shows how God can use any road, even a detour, to bring someone home.

Now there is understanding — and compassion — for those still finding their way. Not everyone arrives at the same moment or by the same path. But together, we belong to one family of God, and that is reason enough to rejoice.

Saint Paul

Saul of Tarsus was on his way to Damascus with one purpose: stop the spread of Christianity. He went to the high priest and asked for letters to the synagogues in Damascus, so that if he found any who belonged to the Way, he might bring them back to Jerusalem in chains.

He never arrived as planned. On the journey, as he neared Damascus, a light from the sky suddenly flashed around him. He fell to the ground and heard a voice: “Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting me?” Saul got up from the ground, but when he opened his eyes he could see nothing; so they led him by the hand and brought him to Damascus. For three days he was unable to see, and he neither ate nor drank.

The House of Judas

There was a disciple in Damascus named Ananias, and the Lord said to him in a vision, “Ananias.” He answered, “Here I am, Lord.” The Lord said to him, “Get up and go to the street called Straight and ask at the house of Judas for a man from Tarsus named Saul.” The Lord said to Ananias: “Go, for this man is a chosen instrument of mine to carry my name before Gentiles, kings, and children of Israel.”

Three Days of Silence

In that blindness and silence, God was dismantling the old self. Immediately, things like scales fell from his eyes and he regained his sight. He got up and was baptized, and when he had eaten, he recovered his strength. Paul was not transformed by a thought but by an event — by the irresistible presence of the Risen One. It radically changed his life in a fundamental way; in this sense, one can and must speak of a conversion.

The Ananias Passage (Acts 9:10–16, NABRE)