Decisions become easier when your will to please God outweighs your will to please the world.

Thanks to a very wonderful woman in my life, I was quickly reminded of the choices I have made up to this point and the very choices I have avoided throughout my journey to know who God really is and what He wanted from me. I've always found it ironic and somewhat chilling how God opens doors at the perfect time. Timing is everything and I've always believed in God's timing and waiting for that, but I've been even more impressed with our freedom to make choices. I've seen so many people throughout my life and I have been one of those people who constantly blamed God or the world for letting awful things happen. I see it as though God is actively involved in our lives and allows for some really bad things to happen regardless of whether we like it or not in order to understand. Sometimes our parents let us suffer consequences and learn the "hard way" because there are some things we're just too prideful or stubborn to learn otherwise. I'm continuously learning that I am given choices everyday and what I choose to do each moment of each day is something that I own and take responsibility for. I have made some pretty terrible choices and some really good choices, all of which have worked out for the greater good. One of the many things I love about God, is that fact that even when we suffer consequences at our own hands, He provides some good. As trite as it sounds, everything truly is meant for a reason. As the silly and crass dog, Wilfred says, "Everything is about Everything".

I become excited and passionate about all the serendipitous things that have happened throughout the past 6 years, but I digress. Through a very seemingly coincidental conversation with an amazing girl I met while in St. Louis, I was began pondering how I got to this very moment in my faith and how God's providence unfolded allowing for each decision to become clearer than the last.

When I think about the journey, I think of it more as an adventure with a lot of mystery, excitement, fear, and a heck of a lot of uncertainty along the way. That's the way a real adventure should be. My senior year of high school I dated a very kind and yet very pious boy named, Theo. Although that relationship was short lived, he became one of the most influential best friends I would have. I grew up always knowing there was a God and I knew I loved Him. I can't say that my faith went much further than an occasional church gathering and prayers when I was hurting and afraid of the unknown. Theo was pushy, let's just get it out there. I love him dearly, but he was not afraid to step on toes and be bold with his words. I was absolutely overwhelmed, baffled, and very annoyed at the time, but I have come to admire and value that boldness in him. Not so much the pushiness, but the fact that he stood his ground and had such a determination for what he knew was right. He wanted to share it with me and I'm so grateful that he did. He soon introduced to me his closest friends, Ben, John, and Steve. We became Wendy and the Lost Boys the summer after graduation. I spent my entire summer growing in my passion for life and music. Theo and Ben were very devout Catholics and I respected them for that despite my disinterest in the Catholic faith. They never ceased to bring up very intentional conversations in my presence and I became curious. Very curious.

I soon packed up my room and headed off for my first year of college in Durango where I knew no one and I was on my own. I had no one to answer to and I was free from the controlling environment I had endured growing up. Honestly, I was ready to do what I wanted and be selfish because I finally could. I did just that and met as many people as I could and found out what the partying was all about. I quickly found out that it wasn't all it was cracked up to be. Ben would call me on weekends, message me on myspace, and talk with me through AIM about life in Durango and encourage me each weekend to go to church, move and do something. The worse my selfishness became, the more I loathed who I had become. I vividly remember the moment I threw a bottle of vodka and watched it shatter on the floor. No, I wasn't an alcoholic that had suddenly realized my sickness, I was just a lost, naive, and spiritually hungry child that was tired of living a mediocre and unfulfilled life. After that point, things just started falling into place, I started meeting people who encouraged me in my faith. As Ben prayed and gave me a little push, I started to care. I cared about myself and started to find that there was a beautiful world worth living in and a lot of joy to be found.

One of the most defining and and powerful moments I have ever experienced was in Denver at a praise and worship. The seminarians ran the praise and worship, but it was open to all Christian denominations. I was intimidated and yet so curious as to what I was going to experience. I heard stories of some mysterious experiences the past few times Theo and Ben had been without me. I decided to spend one of my Christmas break evenings at the praise and worship. I was ready and open for whatever God was going to show me. I had hoped that I would see something miraculous and I kept secretly thinking that I would believe if I could only see. I tried so hard to set all expectations aside, but I was a like a wide-eyed little girl, looking at a Christmas present all wrapped up. I just wanted to know. My expectations were exceeded, not because something miraculous happened (something very astounding did happen), but because I felt the Holy Spirit in a way that I had NEVER experienced or thought possible. I burst into tears uncontrollably and that was probably the moment where my spiritual gift became crying. I was full of so much emotion that no words would suffice. I didn't have to explain, though. Ben and Theo just looked at me and smiled- I was understood. Later that evening, Ben in a conversation with another gentleman, began introducing me and was asked if I was Catholic. His response with a wide grin, "No, but she will be". I smiled half thinking, that's awful presumptuous and arrogant and the other half thinking, how could he know that? That was six years ago, I still remember that moment like it was yesterday.

As the year ended, I was faced with another choice. My best friend had decided to move back to Colorado and I could spend another year in Durango or transfer to a Christian college. I was torn at first because I was attached to the new people and experiences in my life, but I thought maybe it was time to become serious about my faith and the best way to do that was at a Christian college closer to those who built me up. I ended up choosing to move back to Lakewood. That summer, Ana, Ben,Theo, and I spent the every moment we could being silly, playing outside, and learning as much as we could about God. I started to let my guard down and allowed myself to embrace as much of the Catholic church as I could. We went to mass probably 4 times a week and spent a large amount of time with a Catholic community that Ben would later join. The Fraternas were some of the most humorous and delightful people I knew.

I started my first semester at CCU excited and wondering what would be next. I was finally at the point that I wanted to move forward with Catholicism and I really wanted to make a choice. I felt like I had to make a decision because time was running out. I started RCIA- an adult confirmation class. As winter was approaching, fear and more choices appeared. Ana was moving back to Illinois and I was left wondering if the choices I was making would be the right thing. I still loved the Catholic church, but some things were rubbing me the wrong way. Moving back to Lakewood was hard and I was ready to leave and do something different. An opportunity fell into my lap that I felt to my core that I had to leap and take a chance. I learned about a bible College in St. Louis that offered free tuition if I lived on campus. That sounded like a deal and a half because I could barely afford CCU and I still living at home. Looking back, I can admit that my motivations were perhaps to run, but what forced me to do it was the determination and peace that I HAD to do it. I honestly didn't fully understand why and I had absolutely no clue what to expect. I found out two days before I hopped on a plane and moved to St. Louis that I was accepted. I got on that plane (loopy and almost unconscious from sleeping pills) more confident and at peace for the adventure that I was about to embark on. I met Clay at the airport still loopy and probably looking like a doped up hippy from Colorado. He was holding a sign that said, "When given lemons, make lemonade". That adventure lasted 2 1/2 years and that time was invaluable. I met more of the best people I could imagine and learned more about myself and my faith than I had hoped. At this point Ben was beginning his journey in joining a Catholic community. He was ready to pursue his calling- Priesthood. I was proud and excited and yet somehow I was left slightly bitter and angry. I loved Ben as my friend and perhaps I loved him because I saw Christ in him. Through him I saw Christ and I was angry how God could take away something so good in my life. Ben moved to Peru during those two years and we talked less and less. I began to accept this point in our friendship, but my bitterness towards Ben's journey and call began to take form of how I felt about the Church. I was hurt and wounded and it was her fault. This was easy to do because I was at a bible college that rejected anything Catholic. I embraced the Christian theology I was taught and began to learn as much as I could. I displayed the most prideful spirit due to my bitterness. I pushed Ben and the Catholic church away while spewing any bit of the theology I knew to back up anything that wasn't Catholic. I'm ashamed and embarrassed for how I regurgitated theology that was spoon fed to me and was never truly understood.

After some time, I kept having dream after dream, conversation after conversation, and experience after experience that showed me I couldn't hide from the Church. She was persistent and patient. I started opening myself up once more and allowing myself to learn and embrace what God wanted me to hear rather than what I wanted to believe and hear. Once I took pride and being right out of the picture, I realized that the answers that I had been looking for all along were right in front of me. My own stubbornness and ignorant search to be right was what blinded me all along. I started to realize that the point wasn't the choice between Catholicism or being Protestant, the choice was God. It didn't matter where I attended church or if I preferred rituals and sacredness over upbeat songs. I loved how Mass felt and allowing reverence and sacredness to become a priority. The point was God and how I loved Him through loving the people around me. I do that best through the Catholic Church. Just as every person has an individual relationship with God, I strongly believe that we seek and find him in different ways. He speaks most loudly through the miracles and sacraments in the Church.

I've spent the last two years back in Durango- This is a whole new experience and I'm so grateful that I am back in such a beautiful place. I still go to Mass, but I'm not concerned with my salvation or if I'll make the right choice. I know I'm right where I'm supposed to be.

I still don't have all the right words or answers, but I can say that I'm ready for the next part of the adventure. I'm starting RCIA again in hopes that I'll finish this time around. I'm so ready. I'm not abandoning any truth and I'm not abandoning my brothers and sisters. I'm choosing to hear God so that I might love a little better.

I choose Him. I choose love. That's all I care about.