Dear apprehensive reader,

Out of all my fears, the fear for my soul has been one of the biggest one.

I grew up in a God loving household. I wouldn’t consider us a Church-going-family, but we would occasionally attend.

I was baptized Catholic, earned my First Communion as a child, and later, as a young adult earned my Confirmation. I knew the prayers and could perform the Sunday Mass rituals, but I wouldn’t say I really knew Christ.

During my tween ages I had Christian friends, so I then started to attend their Youth Classes. But if we’re being honest here, I gravitated towards being involved mostly because I was dating the Pastor’s son. Unfortunately, his father ended up cheating on his mother and they shortly after left the church. When this all happened, we were all on our way to graduating and attending high school. I believe that due to the scandal and us dispersing to different schools, our little group kind of fell apart and I eventually lost touch with everyone and that church.

Around the age of 18, my boyfriend at the time was an active member of the Catholic Church and his family was what I would consider a Church-going-family. We did have young, naive conversations about marriage, so at that time I wanted to make sure I was doing my part to earn a place in the family. From what I can remember, during that time my heart was open to learning more about God, but I always felt unworthy. This feeling would then lead me to feeling bad about myself and at times it felt hard to move forward with loving myself.

After we broke up, I met my now husband; another man who knows Jesus. Now don’t get me wrong, this is a value that I wanted in a partner, something I searched for. So having relationships with men who had a relationship with God was not on accident, it was more like a requirement.

My 20s and early 30s were spent lost. I was struggling to love and respect myself and those around me. I was on a one-way road, and my destination, self-destruction. The craziest thing about it all is that I knew it was happening. At times it felt as if I was outside my body watching it happen and I was there, pouring gasoline on it. I felt like I didn’t deserve happiness.

There were several times I fell to my knees begging for help… peace… forgiveness. At first, I felt as if no help was coming to calm the thoughts. But oddly enough it didn’t deter me, I continued to pray as it was the only thing I felt I could do- so, it’s what I did.

When I look back now, I realize God was always there. He kept me safe when I needed protection, he kept me sane no matter how dark the thoughts got, he brought me a friend when I was in need, and I believe he kept my husband strong and open hearted so that he too could be my rock. I was never truly alone.

Yet, even after all this, I’m still fearful. I’m terrified to open up the Bible and read what a terrible person I am. It all feels to overwhelming as if I’m just going to read about my path to hell. Still, it’s something I have to do. Because instead, what if there are redemption, security, unwavering love and peace.

So, if you’re just as scared as I am but brave enough to still move forward, then let’s go together. I hear it’s beautiful on the other side.

-Lucille