Same old, brand new me

I had heard the expression many, many times -- "I was walking down the street and Jesus tapped me on the shoulder."

Or heard from a colleague or acquaintance that "so and so had found Jesus."

Most times, one or both of these statements was accompanied by a snicker. Or a giggle. Or a less than flattering follow up comment.

But not from me -- I was usually intellectually intrigued, and even a bit envious -- "What would that be like?"

Now I know.

Jesus did not "tap me on the shoulder." Metaphorically speaking, he came at me with a two by four to the gut.

A bit of background: I was raised a Roman Catholic -- Catholic School, scary nuns, CCD, confirmation, the whole deal. And I was what you would call (at the time) a 'good' Catholic -- could recite mass - in Latin - along with the priest. Could whip through a ten decade rosary in nothing flat. Shuffled All Saints prayer cards with the best of them (most notably my grandmother). Donated money when I could. Could even call Bingo!

But I struggled with the church. I had questions. And I learned, fairly early on, that the church did NOT like my questions. Many of my conversations with Father LaCross or Monsignor Bierschmidt, or, heaven help us - Sister Maria Goretti - somehow ended in my having 'sinned' for asking the question and being handed some penance or another.

I once even questioned why I had to "go to confession?" Couldn't I just go right to the source? And don't even get me started on the classes I had to take before I was "allowed" to be my nephew's godmother -- I had no problem with the classes...but thought the hefty donation they 'strongly suggested' (as in you don't get your coat or your nephew baptized until you pay) was just, well, wrong.

After these, and other incidents too numerous to mention, I drifted away from the Roman Catholic Church. If pressed to self-identify, I'd say I was a lapsed Catholic. I still considered myself a believer and lived what I thought was a Christian life -- devoting countless hours to non-profit organizations and trying to be the most 'giving' person I could be.

Much had always been given to me -- and I always had a strong sense of returning the favor, paying it foward - whichever phraseology works for you. There was (and is) very little I would not do to help a friend or a person in need.

If you would have asked me a week ago, I would have told you in no uncertain terms how "blessed" I was. And I believed it. But I did not really "get" it.

Religion had been in the back of my mind, kind of lurking there, for the past year or so. When I received an Amazon Kindle for my birthday in June, it amused me that because of its black leather cover, complete strangers starting asking me if I was "reading the Bible." After the fifth or sixth time this occurred, I actually thought to myself, "maybe I should be reading the Bible."

During this same time period, I reconnected with close friend from high school. A great friend - the kind of friend any father would want for his sixteen-year-old daughter. Amazingly, a 20-year timeout had done nothing to break that again almost immediate bond. Even more amazing was the broad similarities our lives had taken - down to both of us eloping, to walking away from bad situations, to even working in the same cities during the same months/years.

And whilst catching up, my friend would occasionally slip in a Biblical reference, or a Faith-based anecdote. Not in an overt way, not in any kind of Bible-waving stereotype that you might imagine -- but in a kind, almost gentle "this is who I am now" turn of phrase. And I was further intrigued -- enough so that when he suggested a book he thought I might get something out of -- I started reading.

Most importantly, he was patient. He'd lob a couple of balls in my court (apologies for the tennis references) and then step back and see what I did with them. No outright evangelism. He let me take the lead in asking questions and expressing frustrations, and then would gently suggest a path, a verse, a column (he's a writer), a song. And his enthusiasm was infectious.

And after several weeks, it all began to come together for me.

The specifics - the exact moment, the precise phrase of verse that got me, those details are not for public consumption -- still too new, and very, very personal. As I think it should be -- at least for me, at least right now. Suffice to say it was among the most profound moments of my life.

I have accepted Jesus Christ into my heart and as my savior. That's the important part.

I didn't "find" Jesus - He found me. Exactly as it was meant to happen, at exactly the moment in time that He thought best.

The few folks I mentioned this to have seemed startled by my revelation. Or amused by it. Or threatened by it. Feel what you must, but be happy for me. For a long I felt as if something important was missing - and I don't feel that anymore. I ask nothing from friends and/or family - I'm sure I won't suddenly start evangelizing. You may notice a new lightness in my step - you may not notice anything.

To many of you, I will simply remain the goofiest person you know.

I am looking at this right now as a journey -- everything about me is the same, and yet nothing is the same.