Hello, dear readers! I am excited to share with you a significant milestone in my faith journey that happened just this weekend. It’s a story filled with faith, transformation, and the grace of Jesus’ salvation. Through this personal narrative, I’ll take you on a journey through my varied experiences with different churches, all of which have played a unique role in shaping my faith.

In the Beginning

I was born into a Catholic household, and from a very young age, I was immersed in the traditions of the Catholic Church. I was baptized as a baby and took part in my first communion during my third-grade years. Middle school led me to a Catholic school, and as part of my graduation requirement, I went through the sacrament of confirmation. My days were filled with mandatory retreats, Sunday masses, and active participation in the youth group.

During this time, I had a superficial understanding of salvation, believing that merely attending church and professing faith in Jesus was enough to secure a place in heaven. Little did I know that a deeper spiritual awakening awaited me.

My perspective on faith took a significant turn when I turned 18 and attended a retreat. It was there that a leader guided me to the altar, and I was asked if I accepted Jesus as my Lord and Savior. I said yes, more out of fear of saying no to God than true understanding. I later spoke with a priest, admitting that I didn’t quite grasp the significance of my declaration. He assured me that it would take time to fully process.

A New Start

In a neighboring town, there was a Catholic church that had a unique flavor. While still connected to the Vatican, they called themselves Catholic Charismatics. Their mass was like what I was used to, but their sermons went deeper into the scriptures. This church introduced me to a new desire for reading the Bible and a more frequent attendance at services. I also began to learn about the gifts of the Holy Spirit and the baptism of the Holy Ghost.

The pivotal moment in my faith journey occurred during a revival event under a tent. On the final day, there was an altar call, and I found myself running to the front, shouting, and crying, “I surrender!” On that day, I consciously gave my life to Jesus, accepting Him as my Lord and Savior.

I don’t remember how long after, at this church, there was a renewal of our baptism ceremony. It was a ceremony where we were asked if we rejected all the works of the enemy and accepted Jesus, and they pour water over our heads. I was happy about that ceremony because I was not a child. This had been my decision to be rebaptized.

My then husband and I started an outreach ministry within that church. We did all kinds of activities that are not worth mentioning. But life is never a straightforward path, and my marriage took an unexpected turn, we got divorced.  Although I was not excommunicated or officially ousted from the church, I knew that divorce was regarded as a sin, and I chose to step away from the church.  For some time, I was away from the church, but I knew that seed was planted, and I needed to get back home.

New Location and Finding Home

In 2006, after moving thousands of miles, I joined a new church, and it was during a presentation of a play named “Final Destination” in 2008 that I rededicated my life to Christ. I felt truly “born again” but questions of my baptism started lingering in my mind.

 I grew tremendously at this new home. I learned a lot about myself. I was able to heal a lot of past wounds and find a new community. But most journeys are not linear and this one hasn’t been one either.

As one does, something happened in the church that I didn’t agree with and I didn’t leave, I would say I paused attending. I researched other churches, but nothing felt right. I knew in my heart where my home was, but I can be hardheaded.  Then the pandemic hit, and it gave me an excuse to stay away.  But then the little man showed up. Him being the fulfillment of my biggest prayer and God’s perfect gift. I knew my home church was precisely that, HOME. It was time to come home. First, because I was grateful for God keeping me through all that time, second for giving me what I had desired the most and finally because I wanted to give this child the best spiritual upbringing I could.  

As I returned, I witnessed others getting baptized, and the question of the validity of my previous baptisms came back and it kept weighing on me. I always wondered if my baptism “counted”. First, I was baptized as a baby, and then yes kind of later as an adult, but there’s the whole dogmatic conversation between sprinkling vs submersions. I was never submerged which is what my church practice. Now, nobody ever asked me if I was baptized and if they had I would have said yes. That choice of baptism that I did as an adult counted for me. But that was at a Catholic church. And yes, Catholics are Christians, but protestant churches make a distinction. Yes, I knew Jesus is not Catholic or Lutheran or Baptist, but it was tormenting me the question, did my baptism count?

A Fresh Start Through Baptism

I must admit that I gave these thoughts more power than they needed to. For years, yes years, I kept looking at those participating in baptism feeling like I was missing out and did nothing about it.

During yesterday’s service, the pastor announced an impromptu opportunity for baptism. I hesitated. He then said that service was ending early, so having another commitment was not an excuse. I didn’t have a commitment, but I was still in my seat. Then he said, if you have not registered, no problem we register you now. I didn’t move. Then he said, if you didn’t bring a change of clothes, we have a change of clothes for you as well. Don’t worry about the size, we have it.  I hesitated no more. I left my seat and joined the others. I was baptized, and as I stood in the water, I knew that I had cast away all doubts. This act of faith was a declaration that I was “all in.”

Gratitude for the Journey

Today, I am filled with gratitude for my journey of faith. Each chapter, from my Catholic roots to charismatic experiences and recommitting to my faith, has been instrumental in shaping my relationship with God. My baptism is no longer a question mark but a symbol of my unwavering faith.

I share this story not to criticize any church but to inspire you to reflect on your own faith journey. May you find peace in knowing that God is not a God of confusion, and through faith, you can overcome any doubt. My journey is a testament to His grace, love, and mercy, and I hope it encourages you to embrace your own faith with renewed enthusiasm and conviction.