My "conversion" story

I really can't figure out what to title this. "Conversion” just isn't the proper term, because it's not like I converted to a whole new religion - I simply came into the fullness of faith. “My Faith Journey” sounds a bit corny, though that’s what this is. “How I Became Catholic” is also accurate but boring. Anyway, here's Part 1 of my story of getting married, starting NFP, and ultimately becoming Catholic.


I was always a good church-going girl, raised in the Disciples of Christ denomination, attended United Methodist campus ministry in college, and then back to a Disciples of Christ church and interdenominational campus ministry for grad school. I loved my faith. I'm very blessed that I never had any doubts about my faith or anything like that. I felt that questioning was good, but I never questioned the big things.

When I met Gregory in grad school, the fact that he was Catholic was really a non-issue to me. He didn't attend church regularly, so I figured when we married he would become Protestant and I would "win" and it wouldn't be a big deal. Six months in, though, I was confronted with the horrifying revelation that my husband didn't want to be anything but Catholic. And on top of that, he wanted his future children to have a stay-at-home mother! Noo! How could this man who I already knew I loved want his future wife (me) to be a Catholic housewife?! I was appalled.

After about a year of dating, Greg began going to church on Sundays, which I knew was a sign that he was closer to settling down. After awhile he invited me to join him, and we took some turns going to each other’s churches. We both loathed the other’s church. He thought my preacher was too much of a slick-talking Southern evangelical and wasn’t really trustful of the church. I had no idea what was going on during Catholic mass and hated it every time Greg would go up for communion and I had to stay seated in the pew. I would often become so upset that I would start tearing up and it would be all I could do to keep from sobbing in the middle of the service.

While we got used to each other’s churches, we never really felt comfortable in them. “Relationships are all about compromise,” my dad would remind me. When I mentioned to Greg the idea of finding a church in between the two of ours, he countered: “There’s no reason for us both to be miserable in church.”

This was our main disagreement, though we never really fought about it. On almost everything else we were in complete agreement, and we were falling more and more in love.


Part 2 is here.