VW’s and Jesus



In order to be truly healthy you must tend to your soul. My search for health and joy in my life and my family have ultimately brought me to this precious realization. If you're interested here is just the beginning of the adventure of my soul: from Buddhism to born again.

Ten years ago Rory bought a '65 VW van. It was a total shell of a van, no engine, nothing. It had been through quite a rough time including being in a flash flood (we still find sand in it!). When he got the van I was 16. We didn't know each other then but I was so much like that van; damaged and in need of much restoring, repair and love.

I was baptized and raised in a Buddhist sect. My Mama was very devoted to the religion and daily prayers. My five siblings and I varied over the years in our commitment to it. When I was 13 one of my little sisters got saved at a Protestant youth group. Mama had always told us we could be whatever religion we chose, but this news silently troubled her. It was only about a year later that Mama became saved herself. I felt cheated and gypped. How could the faith I was raised with all of a sudden be totally wrong? I was very angry and fought constantly with my Mama about mandatory Sunday church services. (I now really respect her for making me go.)

I was 15 and already going through my own woes. I wasn't only troubled by this new, difficult change, but I was trying to not get down about my past and present life. The first few years of my life, we were homeless. Mama and Papa were divorced when I was 8 which, for me, added tragedy onto tragedy. Having many brothers and sisters to cling to during those years made all the difference. I don't know what I would have done without them. My wonderful Mama worked super hard outside the home which left us to raise and fend for ourselves. I always felt like I had a gift for knowing right from wrong and I did truly try to live as best and morally as I could. But as a confused, sad, lonely 15-year-old, trying so hard to be a happy cheerleading captain and class president, I got too into boys and drugs. By 16 I was totally depressed and dropped out of all my commitments.

This was also the time Mama was serious about church. Through a great mercy I started going to youth group on my own at age 17. I was still really into partying and it took a move with my family to a faraway city for me to give into the sweet forgiveness that would make me pure and make me whole, something I'd never known before. I gave my life to Jesus.

I once heard a story that a shepherd in his wisdom and great love will take a lamb that had strayed from the flock, break his legs and wear it around his neck while it heals. The Good Shepherd broke me and taught me as I healed on His mighty shoulders for 5 years.

When I was 20 I married the most awesome guy; truly everything my heart desires. Our first car as a married couple was a '66 VW bug. Red and cute. (The VW van was not yet fixed). We had a sticker on the back that said “Got Jesus?” That fun little car had us sitting close together through our adventures — good times and difficult times.

Six months after we were married my husband went back to school, Thomas Aquinas College, a very excellent, intense, Catholic liberal arts college. This and being a student and living in a new town and having 2 miscarriages put alot of strain on our young marriage of 10 months.

To add to the pain of life my husband was aching to become Catholic. This was the absolute worst thing. I had been taught in all my churches and Bible studies how bad the Catholics were. And now my husband wanted to be one of them! This was the cause of much strife because I was stubborn and refused to learn what my dear love was finding such beauty in. But he wouldn't do it without me.

His sophmore year we gave birth to our first child. A month later Rory said we should baptize him. It seemed right that I respect my husband in his wish for our son and I realized that even though I wouldn't convert that our children would be raised Catholic because of my husband. So Little Rory at the tender age of 4 weeks, became the first Catholic of the family.

One day I confided to my Mama about how afraid I was at the thought of being Catholic. She told me I should learn about the Church and what it's about before I'm so afraid and against it. (Thank God for her wisdom, and she isn't even Catholic — yet!) I decided to meet with a priest, Fr. Delatorre who baptized our baby. He simply answered all my questions about the Church, and saints and Mary and… Oh my gosh it all made too much sense!

My daily quiet times of prayer and reading the Bible started to be more full, seeing it through the eyes of the ancient Church. One day while reading the book of John I read these words, “Unless you eat My body and drink my blood you do not have life in Me.” I was stunned for at that moment I realized that I had never received true communion. I finally realized what my soul had craved my entire life: true communion with Jesus. I hungered and ached and I knew what I needed to do.

It was Rory's junior year and we started taking Fr. Delatorres catechism class. It was beautiful. Somewhere along the way I was handed Rome Sweet Home, a book by Scott and Kimberly Hahn about their conversion to Catholicism. I found comfort and tons of answers. All my learning about the Church made so much sense.

Easter of 2000 Rory and I recieved first communion, confirmation, and baptism. And even more special, I was one week pregnant with Eoin. I exprienced fullness and richness in my faith like I've never experienced before and it's only gotten better. I'm very proud to be raising my children Catholic. I have found my home in the Church and a deeper love for Jesus. I am healed of my brokeness and I'm one of the flock now. I rest peacefully knowing I am in the care of the Good Shepherd and in the protection of His gates.

I came to You late, O Beauty so ancient and new. I came to love You late. You were within me and I was outside where I rushed about wildly searching for You like some monster loose in Your beautiful world. You were with me but I was not with You. You called me, You shouted to me, You wrapped me in your Splendor, You broke past my deafness, You bathed me in Your Light, You sent my blindness reeling. You gave out such a delightful fragrance and I drew it in and came breathing hard after You. I tasted, and it made me hunger and thirst; You touched me, and I burned to know Your Peace.

— St. Augustine (354-430 AD)

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