God can use anything, even our stubbornness, to draw us to him

My faith has always been present in my life. Sometimes a bright burning flame. Other times, it was a low flicker. Yet, it was always there, a part of me. 

I was born into a ranching family where my mom had a strong Catholic faith. My dad was not Catholic, but would always attend Mass with us because he knew it was important. It was in the vows he took when he married my mom, and he respected my mom’s faith. 

In high school, my mom required that each of my siblings attend one retreat event. At the time, my faith had grown a little dim. I was questioning why the Mass was so boring, since some of my friends had churches that seemed more “fun.” I wondered, “what was the point?” and “why are there so many rules?” My parents however, did not waiver. While I lived in their house, their rules were to attend Mass, and pick a retreat. Out of rebellion, I picked attending a youth Steubenville Conference at St. Paul, Minn. because it was the most expensive. If I was going to go, they were going to pay. 

I soon regretted my decision when the day came to go. Even though there were only six or seven of us, a deacon (now Father Kurtis Gunwall), and a woman from the Diocesan office, Jennie Korsmo, I am shy by nature and didn’t know anyone. I also had rarely been away from home that long without family.

Sometimes, though, that is exactly where God wants us so he can reach our hearts.

The first few hours felt like torture. However, as the speakers shared their testimonies, and the band played uplifting Gospel music, it started to get better. I was listening more intensely to God in my heart, because I wasn’t distracted by outside chatter.

On the final evening, we had adoration. I had never been to adoration before, or if I had, I don’t remember it. It was beautiful. The priest processed around the whole auditorium going up in the bleachers and all around so Jesus could be near each person. I had been sitting, eyes closed in prayer. All of a sudden I felt, not a physical push, but something in my mind telling me to kneel. So I did, and when I looked up I saw our Lord coming down my aisle in the monstrance. Tears flowed from my eyes. I felt his loving gaze upon me, loving me exactly where I was in life. The love was so tangible and so pure. 

When I returned home, I was on fire with love for our Lord. However, being a teenager and human, it still dimmed for a time. However, that moment has been one that I have often called upon during the years. It was the first time that I remember having such a personal encounter with God. God of course, knew exactly what I needed. Being a middle child, I needed an experience that was just mine. Not my siblings, not my parents, but all mine.

I still try to go to adoration when I can. It has looked different over the years. Sometimes I go with my small children in tow, as a family of eight, or by myself. Just as I can reflect and appreciate the way my dad put aside his pride and work to make sure we went to Mass as a family, I can appreciate the way God used my stubbornness, shyness, and loneliness to meet me exactly where I was, and show me the beauty of adoration. I am eternally grateful for that gift.