When I was 16, I just knew I'd get my transplant in time. I didn't think God would so something stupid and le me die after going through so much. The 31 year old "talking" to you is scratching her head wondering how that teenager found the faith, courage, and confidence to believe in a Higher Being.
When I was a kid, I LOVED listening to this Saturday morning radio show, Kids Kingdom. I liked the music (some religious, some from old Disney films) and they would insert various biblical lessons throughout the program. My sister and I enjoyed it so much that our parents would record it off of the radio and then play it during long family road trips during the summer. Also, during the school year I would attend CCD (Confraternity of Christian Doctrine) classes at my parish center. In laymen terms, CCD classes are where I'd learn basic teachings of the Catholic Church.
I still remember The Prodigal Son and it's because of those CCD classes. Also, I went to CCD to receive the sacraments of the Church: Reconciliation (yup, the infamous "confession" thing that Catholics are known for and I'm still bad at going) and First Holy Communion. After my elementary years, I then graduated to youth group. The lessons were getting harder and were prepairing me for Confirmation (which I would receive in high school) yet the environment as a whole was a bit more relaxed. Our youth leader (Kevin) knew that we were in our adolescence and needed fun church-related games as well as nothing-to-do-with church activities. (The lock-in at the parish center when I was in 6th grade comes to mind. :-)) I enjoyed youth group but when I was in 8th grade something happened--Kevin changed parishes. Many of us were very sad at this news.
The new leader for our youth group was someone I had known for a long time; in fact, I was friends with two of her daughters. Unfortunately, youth group was no longer "fun" and the people in my group just went through the motions.
Also around that time I was asking myself the all important questions but from a slightly different angle: Why am I here? Why was I born with so many health problems? What did I do to deserve this? Am I being punished?
So with a bad combo of slowly deteriorating health and now boring youth group you now had a 15 year old girl who was very much questioning her faith and why she was even on this Earth.
Around the time of Easter of 1996 my family and me went to a church's production of Jesus' life leading up to Easter Sunday. Many scenes featured Jesus's miracles (turning water into wine, the leper is clean, casting out the devil in a blind and dumb man, etc.) and it was in that moment that I was overcome with emotion and thought 'Okay, God and Jesus MUST have a purpose for me--but what is it?!' In a way, I think that belief helped me during those last few months pre-transplant.
By the time we moved to St. Louis in mid-April I knew that I needed the transplant but I was still scared. By late May/early June I thought, How long do I have to wait?! and wanted to throw the beeper up against the wall. I was just sick and tired of BEING sick and tired.
During the late hours of June 13th, while driving to the hospital, I had some last minute fears. Dad assured me that I wouldn't have gotten beeped if God didn't think it was my time. This helped put me at ease. The moment that I walked through the door, I was ready for whatever was in store. We had two pictures taken of the five of us right before I was wheeled into the O.R.; I was the only one smiling. I just KNEW God/Jesus/my donor/SOMEONE was watching over me. Also, it turned out I was receiving my transplant the Feast of the Sacred Heart! Seriously! Feast of the Sacred Heart is a religious devotion to Jesus' physical heart as the representation of His divine love for Humanity. (Description from Wikipedia)
During my late teens/early 20s we had some changes within the parish I attended--mainly, a new priest that I REALLY didn't like. He started trying to do things differently and for some reason, that shook me and turned me off from the church for a while. Oh I still attended but I only went through the motions.
When I moved to Tallahassee in December 2007 I was in a bad place spiritually. I had lost many transplant friends, had gone through a bad case of chronic rejection less than two years ago, and was just angry at God in general.
Fast forward over two years later I thought, You know what? Maybe I could start going back to church again. After going online to Google I found out that the closest church was about a 15 minute walk for me.
Okay.....I can do this. I walked and did the sign of the cross like always and started going through the choral mistal. I then went through the misalette, remembering the stories I had learned when I went to CCD.
I liked the church but it wasn't until this past Spring I took a giant step~I attended a CRHP (pronounced 'chirp') weekend. CRHP stands for Christ Renews His Parish. I'd heard about these weekends a couple of times every six months during mass but I never went. In March, I approached the sign up sheet. Afterwards I thought what have I gotten into?! but as soon as I walked through the doors of the retreat, I knew I'd be okay.
I met many women from different backgrounds, ages, life experiences, etc. but we all shared the same common faith. I was learning a lot more about my Catholic faith (still am!) after that weekend I knew I had to be apart of it. I now attend weekly CRHP meetings in preperation for the next retreat (which is in September) and for my witness which is (approporiately) New Life in Christ. :-)
The new leader for our youth group was someone I had known for a long time; in fact, I was friends with two of her daughters. Unfortunately, youth group was no longer "fun" and the people in my group just went through the motions.
Also around that time I was asking myself the all important questions but from a slightly different angle: Why am I here? Why was I born with so many health problems? What did I do to deserve this? Am I being punished?
So with a bad combo of slowly deteriorating health and now boring youth group you now had a 15 year old girl who was very much questioning her faith and why she was even on this Earth.
Around the time of Easter of 1996 my family and me went to a church's production of Jesus' life leading up to Easter Sunday. Many scenes featured Jesus's miracles (turning water into wine, the leper is clean, casting out the devil in a blind and dumb man, etc.) and it was in that moment that I was overcome with emotion and thought 'Okay, God and Jesus MUST have a purpose for me--but what is it?!' In a way, I think that belief helped me during those last few months pre-transplant.
By the time we moved to St. Louis in mid-April I knew that I needed the transplant but I was still scared. By late May/early June I thought, How long do I have to wait?! and wanted to throw the beeper up against the wall. I was just sick and tired of BEING sick and tired.
During the late hours of June 13th, while driving to the hospital, I had some last minute fears. Dad assured me that I wouldn't have gotten beeped if God didn't think it was my time. This helped put me at ease. The moment that I walked through the door, I was ready for whatever was in store. We had two pictures taken of the five of us right before I was wheeled into the O.R.; I was the only one smiling. I just KNEW God/Jesus/my donor/SOMEONE was watching over me. Also, it turned out I was receiving my transplant the Feast of the Sacred Heart! Seriously! Feast of the Sacred Heart is a religious devotion to Jesus' physical heart as the representation of His divine love for Humanity. (Description from Wikipedia)
When I moved to Tallahassee in December 2007 I was in a bad place spiritually. I had lost many transplant friends, had gone through a bad case of chronic rejection less than two years ago, and was just angry at God in general.
Fast forward over two years later I thought, You know what? Maybe I could start going back to church again. After going online to Google I found out that the closest church was about a 15 minute walk for me.
Okay.....I can do this. I walked and did the sign of the cross like always and started going through the choral mistal. I then went through the misalette, remembering the stories I had learned when I went to CCD.
I liked the church but it wasn't until this past Spring I took a giant step~I attended a CRHP (pronounced 'chirp') weekend. CRHP stands for Christ Renews His Parish. I'd heard about these weekends a couple of times every six months during mass but I never went. In March, I approached the sign up sheet. Afterwards I thought what have I gotten into?! but as soon as I walked through the doors of the retreat, I knew I'd be okay.
I met many women from different backgrounds, ages, life experiences, etc. but we all shared the same common faith. I was learning a lot more about my Catholic faith (still am!) after that weekend I knew I had to be apart of it. I now attend weekly CRHP meetings in preperation for the next retreat (which is in September) and for my witness which is (approporiately) New Life in Christ. :-)
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