Navigating Faith

Have you ever prepared for a class — bringing your notebook, the required texts, and a hopeful attitude — only to find yourself completely lost, even though the teacher handed you a calendar? Me too. When I started OCIA (Order of Christian Initiation for Adults), I genuinely thought I was ready. I had everything they said I needed. But as the classes unfolded, I found myself confused, overwhelmed, and unsure how each lesson fit into the bigger picture of the Catholic faith. It felt like trying to navigate a forest with a map missing half the landmarks. So I did something about it. During my time in OCIA, I wrote a notebook/workbook that set a clear standard for what we were taught and how it was taught. I created   29 chapters   — following the flow of our OCIA course — and designed it to be flexible enough to be used in any OCIA program. It offers a   high-level overview of Catholicism , especially from a   Protestant perspective , helping bridge the gaps for those ...

For the past several months, many people have noticed my regular presence at St. Philip the Apostle Catholic Church. It’s become a place of reflection, community, and deep spiritual growth for me. Naturally, some friends, family, and fellow parishioners have asked, “Have you joined the Church?” and “Are you Catholic?” The short answer is: not officially. But when asked whether I believe what the Catholic Church teaches, I can say without hesitation, yes. Originally, I had planned to enter the Church during the Easter Vigil, as is tradition for many converts. But I had to work that evening, and I chose not to go forward at the time. I told myself it was because I still had doubts. But as I’ve sat with that moment and looked deeper, I came to see that my hesitation wasn’t about doctrine—it was about something more personal. I was waiting for a blessing from my mom. I didn’t realize how important that was to me until I received it. Now that I have her blessing, my heart feels at peace....

On Monday morning, the world awoke to the news that Pope Francis had passed away. The cause wasn’t immediately known, but in time we learned it was a stroke and cardiac arrest. Like many, I read the headline in disbelief—then felt a weight in my chest I wasn’t prepared for. I remember when Pope Benedict XVI passed. I noticed, perhaps even said a prayer, but the loss didn’t register deeply. And when Pope John Paul II died, I was saddened—he was the first Pope I ever knew anything about, and there was something monumental about his passing. But this—this grief over Pope Francis—is different. It is deeper. More personal. Perhaps it’s because this past year, I’ve spent time within the Catholic Church. I’ve sat beside my brothers and sisters in Christ, prayed the intentions for the Pope, mentioned his name in the Eucharistic prayers. I’ve heard him invoked not as a distant figurehead but as a shepherd of the Church. I even wrote him a letter—a hopeful act that, I now know, won’t receive a r...

So, there I was—minding my peaceful, soul-nourishing business—reading   Mary, Teach Me to Be Your Daughter   by Megan Madden. It’s a beautiful book that dives into what we know about the Blessed Mother and how her humility, obedience, and self-denial are blueprints for godly womanhood. But then, like clockwork, someone with a Wi-Fi signal and a superiority complex entered the chat. “Better would be the read your bible, and pray that Jesus would teach you to be a true follower Colossians 2:6-7!!” Sir… respectfully, no one was talking to you. Also respectfully, do you   read   the Bible, or do you just skim for verses to weaponize? Let me be clear: I love Jesus. I’ve been following Him longer than some folks have had a mortgage. I believe in the authority of Scripture. And guess what?   Mary is literally in it —not just as scenery, but as a central, courageous, Spirit-filled, prophetic, poetic, wildly obedient, and yes, sinless figure. The angel   Gabriel ...

Today is Holy Saturday —a sacred, quiet pause in the Christian calendar. It’s the day Jesus lay in a borrowed tomb, purchased by Joseph of Arimathea. According to the Nicene Creed , it was during this time that He descended into hell , entering the deepest places of human pain and separation so that we would never have to know that finality—if we accept Him as our Savior. “He was put to death in the body but made alive in the Spirit. After being made alive, he went and made proclamation to the imprisoned spirits…” —1 Peter 3:18–19 It’s also the day of the Easter Vigil , the most solemn and sacred liturgy in the Catholic Church. For many catechumens and candidates, this is the night of becoming Catholic. And for me, that was supposed to be today. As many of you know, I’ve been discerning Catholicism for quite some time. I love the Catholic liturgy—the beauty, the reverence, the rhythm of it. I’m active in the Church and genuinely enjoy being there. But the truth is, I haven’t discer...

A friend of mine recently asked me if I would baptize her. She’s married, living what looks like a settled life, and has been around the Catholic faith for most of her upbringing. Her husband was baptized and confirmed in the Church in Mexico, while she, despite being raised Catholic, was never baptized or confirmed. Now, she’s feeling a pull—or maybe just a curiosity—toward finally being baptized. But the path isn’t as simple as filling a font and saying a few words. She went to a priest, seeking baptism, and was told that her marriage needed to be convalidated first. This requirement—having her marriage recognized as sacramental and valid in the eyes of the Church—is often a stumbling block for couples who were married outside the Catholic Church. She and her husband, however, don’t see the need. They're civilly married, committed, and in their eyes, that should be enough. And honestly, that's a sentiment I understand. From a purely human standpoint, they’re doing what most w...

Tonight, someone called me a heretic. It wasn’t the first time I’ve been part of a heated conversation about faith, but this one left me feeling particularly worn out. The discussion started with concerns I’ve had for a while now: the way some Catholics treat Protestants, especially in conversations about belief and tradition. There’s often a focus on how Protestants speak about Catholicism—sometimes harshly and unfairly—but rarely do I see Catholics pause to reflect on how they speak about or treat Protestants in return. Respect is a two-way street. It has to be. In this particular conversation, I expressed my disagreement with the Marian dogmas—teachings like the Immaculate Conception or the Assumption of Mary. I’ve struggled with them, not out of stubbornness, but because I genuinely don’t see them rooted clearly in Scripture. These doctrines were developed and defined by the Magisterium over time, and while I respect the tradition they come from, I also believe it’s okay to ask que...

I’ve been asked more than once—and often with a puzzled look—why someone with a degree in Biblical Studies, who once aspired to be a United Methodist pastor and abstained from the vote that fractured the UMC, now attends a Catholic church. The answer is both simple and deeply personal. The truth is,   the schism in the United Methodist Church broke my heart . I watched as beloved friends and mentors were caught in the middle—some feeling left behind, others feeling forced out. It wasn’t just a vote. It was a spiritual and emotional earthquake that left cracks in relationships and faith communities that may take years to heal. In the aftermath, I couldn’t bring myself to return to church right away. For   eight months , I stayed away from any church building. Not because I had lost my faith, but because I was grieving. I didn’t know where I belonged anymore. I was still a Methodist in belief and spirit, but my spiritual home had been divided, and I didn’t recognize the rooms an...

I didn’t walk into RCIA (now commonly called OCIA) on a whim. I came with decades of spiritual seeking, theological study, personal sacrifice, and a firm belief in the Real Presence of Christ in the Eucharist—something I’ve held since childhood, even while sitting in a Southern Baptist pew. I wasn’t looking for religion. I was longing for   home . I believed I had found that in the Catholic Church. But as the months passed, something unexpected happened. Instead of being drawn deeper into the mystery and richness I had long admired, I began to feel something missing— a disconnect   between the beauty of Catholic theology and the way it was being presented. In many ways, the OCIA program I experienced felt like it was built for those brand new to Christ—those unfamiliar with Scripture, uncomfortable with tradition, or uncertain if God was even real. But for someone who had lived and breathed the Bible for years, held a Master’s degree in Religion, taught others, and written ext...