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On Holy Thursday of 2012, I had my conversion; I didn’t know it was a holy day. It happened when I saw a doctor. I had back pain from a football injury. Pain-killers were injected into my back where it hurt, but something went wrong. My heart started racing, and I was dizzy. I thought I was going to die.
Up to this point, I was lost and empty; little did I know of my emotional wounding. I sought love in the wrong places and dropped out of college three times. My life was a mess.
On that hospital bed, I opened my heart and grace flooded in. I cried to the Lord, “If you spare my life, I’ll do whatever you want.”
That Sunday I went to Mass for the first time in years with my mom who later became Catholic. During that Mass, I received the healing gift of tears.
Soon after that, I got fired from a job. When I arrived home, I saw my sister Anna in the driveway. When I told her I had been fired, she told me about Madonna House. I figured the Lord wanted me there.
So I drove north all night and arrived in Combermere in early morning. No one was around but Mary Davis. She brought me in and gave me breakfast. I had come for the summer program but stayed much longer. Being in a community of love nurtured my faith.
I later entered a seminary but, after a few years there, I discerned that I needed a community to help me live the Christian life.
The rest is history. I came up north again to figure things out. In the dining room one day, it hit me like a ton of bricks. I fell head over heals in love with Madonna House. I had to come back to stay.
What a gift! The Lord has called me to his mother’s house. I am home.
