By Laurie O'Driscoll in My Conversion Story, Blogging | 08th March 2021
"The time is sure to come when people will not accept sound teaching, but their ears will be itching for anything new, and they will collect themselves a whole series of teachers according to their own tastes; and then they will shut their ears to the truth and will turn to myths."
-2 Timothy 4: 3-4
I am an awkward human, with limited social skills. I spend a large amount of time worrying if I say or do the right things when around others. I never want to hurt anyone or make them feel uncomfortable, nor do I want to offend anyone. Also, there is fear that I will make a fool of myself, that humiliation will be easily won by my awkwardness. Depending on the day, it is a toss-up as to which of those fears and worries is the one most present in my mind. It is often a mix of all of them.
The one thing I never felt awkward doing, was praying. I am an only child who was alone a lot. I read books, I wrote in diaries, I listened to music, and I talked to God. I have been on a very diverse spiritual journey. Most of the time, whatever spiritual thing I was pursuing could be placed under the very broad umbrella of, 'earth centered spirituality.' Within that label are sub-groupings such as paganism, wicca, shamanism, druidism and similar paths. Those each have their own sub-groupings too. So, I learned over the years how to connect with the divine through many different kinds of ways.* At least, I thought I did.* I was not raised in a particular faith, so I had freedom to seek and find God where I could.
Over the years I have done just that. Or at least, I thought I had. I have called God by many names. I have sought divinity through the lenses of a sort of vague monotheism, then hard polytheism, then soft, then that turned into pantheism. Pantheism is where I have been over the last several years, probably since about 2011. At a certain point I wouldn't name divinity at all. I would just pray. Other times I gave 'it' a diff...
By Laurie O'Driscoll in My Conversion Story, Blogging | 07th April 2021
We had wanted to go to a midnight mass. My husband was usually working on Christmas eve and Christmas day, so we never went. Actually, we tried once when my youngest child was still a baby. She started to cry, as babies do, and we left, so as not to disturb anyone. That was about fifteen years ago.
Did I mention that I married into a Catholic family? Yes, my husband is a "cradle Catholic," as they say. Early on, after we met, we went to a few Masses. Then we lived around his family, who were all cradle Catholics. For a time, we lived with his grandmother, who taught me a lot about Catholicism.
Soon, my husband and I were married and began a family of our own. Things happened that challenged my husbands faith and between that and my husbands crazy work schedule, we just never had the time to go to Midnight Mass.
In December 2020 everything fell into place and we found ourselves outside our local Cathedral, just before midnight. As we neared the entrance of the Cathedral, my husband asked, "Are you sure this is a Catholic Church?" I nodded to the affirmative and added, "This is the place I took your mother to when she visited and wanted to light a candle on your brothers death anniversary." He seemed reassured and we entered the Cathedral.
As we walked in, there was the sound of harp music playing. There were many people, including lots of families. Some were already knelt down and praying at their pews. We took in the space around us and found a place to sit. As we sat, my husband was pointing to different things in the Church and explaining to our daughter what they were. I was half listening as I took in this gorgeous atmosphere and noticed a warm comforting feeling coming over me. A feeling of comfort is something I had not had in a very long time.
I hadn't felt connected to God, in a very long time.
While I believed in a general sense of 'divinity,' I also felt unsure of who or what that mi...
By Laurie O'Driscoll in My Conversion Story, Blogging | 18th April 2021
”…in what I have done and in what I have failed to do…”
-The Confiteor
"YOU are?"
This was my eighteen year old sons response to me saying I was becoming Christian. As we sat around the table on this Christmas Day, eating our Christmas Dinner, I had cautiously declared that I was changing everything my family had always known about me.
While I had not specifically raised my children as little witches or pagans, I did raise them to have 'open minds' and be tolerant of all religions. *Or at least, I thought I had. (As I write about my conversion, I have a feeling you are going to be seeing a lot of those, 'I thought I had' statements.) * I did however expose them to all that; New age ideas, pagan and wiccan practices, divination. On this Christmas Day, as joyous as it was for me to have had the epiphany I had been gifted with, just a few hours earlier, I also had another thought. This thought concerned my children and it was in regards to what I had exposed them to over their lives and that thought was simply: "Oh my God what have I done?"
The usual activity of the day continued. We exchanged gifts, had our dinner, watched Wonder Woman 1984, and ate WAY too much dessert. Soon the day would settle into a lazy quiet night. Which was exactly what my mind both needed and didn't want. I had gone over to my little office area in our house and took in all the trimmings of my former faith. I had chakra related things everywhere, I had books about witchcraft and paganism on my bookshelf. On top of the bookshelf I had a small altar set up for prayer and magickal working.(no that is not a typo. Wiccans and witches add the extra k to differentiate from what they do from stage magic.)
Now, remember, I had thought of myself as a pantheist so it had been years since I kept god and goddess statues around. Saying that, I did have traditional wiccan tools such as an athame (sharp double edged knife meant for directing ...
