I can practically see the eyebrows raised as I wrote the title for this article. But that was my initial spiritual journey. I was born into a strict, Southern Baptist family, and my first memories are of Vacation Bible School. While the rest of my family (aunts, uncles, grandparents, and cousins) were all Sunday churchgoers, my parents really weren’t. They were forced to go every Sunday when they were growing up, and had no desire to do so as adults. However, if you would ask them, (especially my mother), she would proudly say that she was Baptist and had been “saved” as a child.
My interest in religion started around the age of 12. I remember going with my cousin to Sunday school, and felt utter humiliation when I was asked to look up a passage in the Bible. I opened the book and stared at it, not sure what the names and numbers, shown as 12:6 meant. Thankfully, no one laughed, and they helped me, but I was still embarrassed by my ignorance. I was definitely going to hell.
I sat through the typical fire and brimstone sermons with my aunt, uncle and cousin, my eyes widening when the preacher told of a young man who had just accepted Jesus, and then died in a car wreck the next day. During an altar call, I was asked if I should go up there, and curiously enough, was told NO.
Now, I had always been interested in Catholicism. The beautiful churches, seeing girls in lovely first Communion dresses, and finding out about nuns fascinated me. Of course, my Baptist relatives were horrified. I was curious, however, and when I turned 16 and was able to drive myself to a nearby Mass, I went. I sat in the back since I had no idea when to kneel, stand, etc. I actually spoke with a nun, (who didn’t wear a habit like they do in the movies), and said I wanted to be Catholic. I had started reading about their beliefs, and found that my own beliefs completely aligned with theirs. I was told I could start RCIA in the fall, but that was several months away.
Fast forward a few years and I finally took the plunge. I went through RCIA, and I was received into the Church in 2016. I was baptized, confirmed and received First Communion all on the same day! I was officially Catholic! However, my particular Church wasn’t as hardcore Catholic as I was becoming, so I began looking for a Latin Mass. I found one and…wow! It was everything I hoped it would be. The altar was beautiful, and all of the other women their were veiled, just like me.
I found a Traditional Mass a bit closer to home, and although it wasn’t in Latin, they still used the Traditional form from pre-1963. The type of Mass that Pope Francis has railed about. I began praying the offices of the Church in the morning and afternoon (Lauds and Vespers), and tried to go to Daily Mass before work.
Something happened in 2020, (besides the pandemic). I just got tired. Tired of fearing hell constantly. Tired of having to run to Confession every day because I felt as if I had a sinful thought, or I accidentally swore. I knew I could die any moment and didn’t want to go to hell.
About this same time, I began exploring other ideas. I didn’t feel as if Christianity resonated with me any more, but I still had some fear of hell. I began reading different books about pagan paths. I am still on this journey, and I feel more empowered than I ever have before. I still do things I loved from Catholicism, like praying the rosary, but my belief is now more of an Earth-based, animistic style of spirituality. I feel this is the right path for me, since I’ve never felt happier.
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