Having grown up in the Church, I was considered a cradle-Catholic all my life. Attending a private Catholic school, accompanying my parents to church choir every week, volunteering at Bible camps- these were all a normal part of my life, a part that, to me, seemed routine. Of course, God was important. I loved Him with everything in me. But that special fire that I had heard so many talking about, that infatuation with Christ… I just wasn’t there.
As I grew older, my faith grew stronger. I began to enjoy going to Church and I liked to talk about God as though He was sitting next to me. However, teenagers are not normally on fire about the Lord. I found that my faithful crowd had started to dwindle; my best friend became an atheist, some rolled their eyes when I talked about God, and some used God as a fashionable trend. These types of people believe in the Lord but don’t practice what they preach. They attend the pretty churches, taking pictures in their beautiful Sunday dresses, but then the next day ridicule each and every girl who does not meet their satisfaction.
Luckily, I found my crowd in high school who loved the Lord just as much as I did. The three of us bonded instantly, using God in the midst of almost every conversation. Even when I got negative or forgot, for an instant, about what is important, they reminded me of who loved me the most. Together we took on the most difficult years of a young girls’ life and proudly stated that God is our Savior.
Additionally, my family-- two brothers, two sisters, and wonderful parents-- helped my faith grow immensely. Every morning, I had the option to join my dad for a rosary or pray with my mom with her hands clasped over mine. Family prayers were also important, even though as we grew older they got more inconsistent. However, Georgia, the baby of the family, was my lifeline to God. The innocence and purity of such a small soul filled my heart with pure joy. Each day I dove to be at her side, watching each and every little expression that God gave her. Children, I believe, are God’s way of showing how much He loves us and wants us to view the world in such a positive way.
After 18 years at home, I finally went off to college. At first, I was excited beyond belief. I made sure to visit each Church in the area to find which I would like to attend. I even talked to the parishioners and the priests, asking about the Masses. For my first Mass on campus, I was shocked at how few people joined the pews. Everyone was extremely kind, but many lacked the fire that I had grown up knowing. As time went on, fewer and fewer people came to Mass; even the girl who had promised to keep me on my toes about attending Church stopped attending all of a sudden. I found this heartbreaking; at a time when no one was there to push me, how could I continue with my faith as strongly as I was raised to do?
After months of prayer about what to do, I finally began to find answers. A girl in my choir asked me to start cantoring; this, I found, was my contribution to the small church I now called home. Another girl in my sorority offered to take me to a Bible study in town; to me, this gesture was a reminder to pick my head up and keep reading His Word. God wants to talk to me, but only if I’m willing to listen. My best friend and boyfriend even shared their interest in the Catholic faith. I got to know Christ better by answering their countless questions. There were some that I was not even sure of the answer- again, another reminder of how little I truly knew.
Overall, while at times keeping a strong faith can be difficult, God always sends us ways to pick it back up. While straining at first, a small lapse in my faith made me grow more than I ever realized.
- Anna Poach - Allegheny College