I almost didn’t post this because it sounds overly sentimental and cheesy, but it’s true. So here it goes…
I turn 31 this weekend. I’ve never been one to freak out about birthdays, but there have been a couple milestones here and there that caused me a bit of anxiety, thinking, “Man, am I already that old?” And when I thought about turning 31, it gave me pause for a moment to realize that I am truly a “30-something” now, which I think means that I am officially an adult.
But those thoughts were immediately overshadowed with overwhelming joy to think that this year will bring the one year anniversary of us becoming Catholic. And every year that goes by from now on is one more year that I’ve had God in my life.
I had a great life before my conversion. I was a happy atheist surrounded by family, friends, and all the worldly comforts a person could ever desire. Yet, when I look back on it all, it seems so bleak and somehow lonely compared to now. It’s like if you’ve ever gone inside on a winter day, and it was only when the warm air of your home hit you that you realized just how cold you were outdoors.
When I think of the astounding peace and joy that Christianity has brought to my life, it’s hard not to lament all the years I spent without it. It’s hard not to find it distressing that I spent three decades ignoring God. I will have to wait until I’m 61 to say that I’ve been a Christian for more than half my life. From here on out, I think that any anxiety about having one more year gone by will always be vastly overshadowed by the knowledge that it’s one more out of the cold, one more year spent in the warmth of home, the Catholic Church.
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