Saint Josephine Bakhita: Forgiveness, Freedom, and the God Who Never Forgets You

When we think of saints, it’s tempting to picture people who had easy access to holiness: born into faith, surrounded by support, and raised in a world where prayer came naturally. But some saints come to us from the margins—those whose lives were shaped by violence, displacement, and loss. St. Josephine Bakhita is one of those saints.

Born in Sudan in the late 1800s, Bakhita was kidnapped as a child and sold into slavery. She endured years of abuse and terror, her name and identity stripped from her by those who considered her property. In fact, "Bakhita" wasn’t her birth name—it was a name given to her by slavers, meaning "lucky." The irony is sharp. And yet, it was under this name that she would eventually be baptized, enter religious life, and become a radiant witness to the unshakable dignity of every human person.

What St. Josephine Bakhita Teaches Us About God

1. God sees and stays—even in the worst chapters.

Bakhita’s early life was filled with suffering that could have broken her spirit permanently. And yet, when she eventually encountered the Catholic faith in Italy, she said something astonishing: that even during her captivity, she had a mysterious sense of a presence with her. She didn’t yet know who He was, but she sensed Someone was there.

That “Someone” was the God who never forgets us—not in pain, not in displacement, not in abuse. Her story reminds us that God’s gaze is not limited to the pews or the polished moments. He is with the wounded child, the trafficked woman, the survivor who has no words left.

2. Forgiveness doesn’t mean forgetting. It means freedom.

St. Josephine forgave those who enslaved and abused her—but that forgiveness wasn’t a denial of what happened. It was a refusal to let those events define her future. Through Christ, she found a deeper identity: not a slave, but a daughter. Not forgotten, but chosen.

Forgiveness in her life wasn’t about weakness. It was a holy defiance—the choice to be free, even when her past tried to chain her to bitterness.

3. Holiness is not tidy. It’s healing.

When Bakhita entered religious life, she was not trying to escape her past—she brought her story with her. She became a Canossian Sister and lived in humble service for the rest of her life. She was known for her serenity and radiant joy, even as she bore the scars of slavery.

This teaches us something vital: holiness is not about hiding your trauma. It’s about letting God redeem it. St. Josephine’s sainthood didn’t erase her past. It transfigured it.

What Bakhita Taught Us About Identity

When you’ve been renamed by trauma, reclaiming your identity isn’t easy. Bakhita’s name was taken from her—but her dignity never was. When she was baptized, she received a new name: Josephine Margaret. It wasn’t just symbolic. It was sacramental. Her identity was no longer based on what others called her, but on who God said she was.

So many of us live under false names we’ve internalized: Too Much. Not Enough. Damaged. Forgotten. But Bakhita’s story reminds us that baptism gives us new names: Beloved. Free. Daughter. Son. Heir.

Your wounds may be part of your story—but they are not your name.

“I have called you by name,” God says in Isaiah 43:1, “you are mine.” That truth was lived fully by a woman once known only as a slave. Now, we call her Saint.

When You Feel Forgotten by God

One of the most profound elements of Bakhita’s testimony is that she felt God’s presence long before she knew His name. Even in her captivity, she said, there was Someone with her.

This is a balm for anyone walking through silence, grief, or spiritual desolation. Maybe you’ve asked, “Where was God when that happened to me?” Bakhita doesn’t answer that with theology. She answers it with presence.

God doesn’t always explain—but He does not abandon.

Even in the worst chapters, Bakhita bore witness to a mysterious companionship. That’s not sentimentality. That’s grace in the dark.

How Her Story Speaks to Us Today

If you’ve ever felt invisible, unheard, or defined by something someone else did to you, St. Josephine Bakhita is a powerful companion. Her life is a declaration that:

• You are more than your wounds.

• You are seen by God even when the world tries to erase you.

• Forgiveness is not erasure—it’s the reclamation of your freedom.

• There is no trauma so deep that God cannot walk into it with you.

She reminds us that healing is possible—not because pain never happened, but because God is still writing the ending.

Want to go deeper? The book Bakhita: From Slave to Saint offers a moving, detailed account of her life and legacy. It's a powerful companion for those walking through questions of identity, suffering, and redemption. Find it here.

You might also find beauty in wearing a reminder of her presence: this St. Josephine Bakhita medallion with a rose is a quiet tribute to a woman who bloomed in the harshest soil.

A Prayer to Walk With St. Josephine

Litany of Identity Reclaimed:

When I feel like a burden—remind me I am beloved.
When I feel unseen—remind me I am known.
When I carry shame—remind me I am redeemed.
When I feel like property—remind me I am Yours.

St. Josephine Bakhita, walk with me when the past tries to steal my name. Help me claim the name God has written on my heart.

St. Josephine Bakhita, you knew what it meant to be stripped of your name and dignity. And yet, you found your true identity in the gaze of the God who loved you. Teach us to walk in that same truth. When we feel forgotten, be our witness. When we struggle to forgive, be our strength. And when we carry pain too heavy to name, remind us that we are never carrying it alone. Amen.

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God of the Small Things: Finding Holiness in Ordinary Life

Holiness doesn’t always look like candlelight and soaring cathedral music. It doesn’t always feel like mystical visions, spiritual highs, or tear-filled prayer. Sometimes, holiness looks like folding the same laundry again, offering a smile when you’re tired, or choosing patience for the hundredth time in a single day.

God is not only found in the dramatic. He is found in the deeply ordinary. In fact, some of the holiest ground we’ll ever walk is the same floor we sweep every morning.

The Lie of the “Big” Spiritual Life

In our achievement-obsessed culture, it’s easy to believe that a “good” spiritual life must be visible, measurable, impressive. We chase emotional intensity, long hours of prayer, dramatic conversions, or outward markers of sainthood. But Scripture—and the lives of the saints—paint a different picture.

Jesus never told us to impress Him. He told us to follow Him. And He often pointed to the smallest things as the place where holiness hides:

"Whoever is faithful in small matters will also be faithful in large ones." — Luke 16:10

We forget that Jesus spent thirty years in obscurity before His public ministry—working, praying, eating, sleeping, loving His family. Thirty years of small things. Thirty years that were not wasted, but sanctified by His presence.

We live in a world that rewards spectacle. God blesses faithfulness.

Heaven Sees What the World Overlooks

God does not measure greatness the way the world does. He doesn’t rank your life by visible outcomes or spiritual aesthetics. He sees the hidden choices:

• The single mom making it through bedtime routines with grace

• The caregiver offering quiet dignity to a loved one

• The employee choosing integrity when no one’s watching

• The chronically ill person offering up another hard day without fanfare

• The teenager resisting peer pressure in silence

• The lonely elder offering prayers for a world that barely remembers them

These moments might feel invisible. But they echo in eternity.

"Whatever you do, in word or in deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus." — Colossians 3:17

There are no wasted prayers. No wasted acts of kindness. No wasted struggles offered quietly to God. Heaven celebrates what earth often ignores.

The Domestic Monastery

Catholic tradition often speaks of cloisters and monasteries as places of sanctification. But your home can be a monastery too. Your kitchen can be an altar. Your mundane routines can become sacramental if you let God inhabit them.

The mother wiping a child’s nose, the tired soul making dinner again, the spouse offering forgiveness before sleep—these are liturgies of love.

In every generation, God has called ordinary people to extraordinary holiness through their simple faithfulness. Brother Lawrence found union with God while scrubbing kitchen pots. St. Zelie Martin found sanctity in weaving lace and raising children. St. Joseph, silent and steadfast, found his calling in carpentry and fatherhood.

If God could meet them in their daily lives, He can meet you in yours.

Sanctity doesn’t always require silence and candles. Sometimes it just asks you to be present, gentle, and willing—to make your life a living prayer.

Becoming a Saint in the Life You Already Have

You don’t need to wait for your life to get quieter, simpler, or more “spiritual.” The path to holiness is not somewhere out there. It’s already under your feet.

Ask yourself:

• How can I offer today’s work to God?

• What small sacrifice can I make out of love?

• Where can I bring beauty, order, or kindness?

These are not small questions. They are the building blocks of sainthood.

The saints were not superhuman. They were simply faithful. They said "yes" in the small things, often long before anyone ever noticed their "greatness."

Your yes matters.

Every load of laundry, every act of patience, every whispered prayer—these are the stones God uses to build the cathedral of your soul.

Final Reflection

The God of the universe stepped into time not with a fanfare, but through the hidden life of a carpenter’s son. He dignified the ordinary. He sanctified the unnoticed. And He still meets us there, in the kitchen, the classroom, the waiting room, the laundry line.

Holiness doesn’t always look like the mountaintop. Sometimes, it looks like washing feet.

Sometimes, it looks like you.

"Whatever you did for one of these least brothers of mine, you did for me." — Matthew 25:40

You are seen. You are loved. Your faithfulness matters.

Lift up your small offerings. In the hands of God, nothing given in love is ever wasted.

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Why the Church Feels Slow—And Why That Might Be Okay

Subjects Covered: Catholic conversion, waiting for sacraments, OCIA experience, faith formation, Catholic patience

There’s a common ache among adult converts, especially those of us coming from high-energy Protestant communities: Catholicism can feel slow.

The parish calendar moves at a different pace than we’re used to. Discernment takes months or years. Sacraments unfold slowly, often through complex processes. It’s not unusual to feel like you’re endlessly waiting—for clarity, for paperwork, for permission, for someone to see how ready you are.

And in that waiting, it’s easy to feel forgotten.

But what if that slowness is part of the Church’s fidelity, not its flaw?

The Fast Church We Left Behind

When my husband and I began this journey, we brought with us years of experience in fast-paced ministry. We were used to momentum. We were used to altar calls that pulled you forward in a rush of emotion. We were used to communities that equated movement with faithfulness.

So it felt disorienting to sit in stillness.

We weren’t used to spiritual growth unfolding over liturgical seasons. We weren’t used to waiting months just to complete paperwork, or discerning vocation over a yearlong timeline. We had to learn not to interpret that stillness as a lack of care—but rather, as care of a different kind.

It’s not that we stopped growing. It’s that growth was happening underground.

Many of us came from faith traditions that moved fast. Worship was emotionally charged. Decisions were made quickly. You could declare yourself saved, step forward at the altar, and be baptized on the same day. The response was immediate, the energy was tangible, and the sense of spiritual movement was constant.

That rhythm shaped us. It taught us to expect transformation in real time. To expect quick answers. To equate spiritual aliveness with visible activity.

So when we land in the Catholic Church and are asked to slow down—to submit to long processes, to wait for seasons to change—it can feel like we’ve hit a wall.

Slow Isn’t the Same as Cold

If you’ve ever felt like no one sees how urgently you want to belong—you’re not imagining it. But you’re also not alone. Many converts feel that ache.

But the Church moves slowly because she takes sacred things seriously. The Catechism teaches that the sacraments are not private declarations but divine actions that configure us to Christ (CCC 1116: Sacraments of the Church). And divine things—like Eucharist, reconciliation, and confirmation—require preparation, not performance.

The Church is not being dismissive. She’s being faithful. Slow grace is not lesser grace. It’s the kind that settles deep, changes your instincts, and shapes you for the long road.

But here’s what I’ve learned: the slowness of the Church isn’t apathy. It’s reverence.

The Catholic Church doesn’t rush because what she’s offering is real. Sacraments aren’t symbolic—they’re embodied. They do something. And anything that sacred is approached with caution and care.

It may feel like people don’t understand your urgency. But what’s actually happening is that the Church is choosing formation over transaction, discernment over impulse, and depth over spectacle.

The slowness is deliberate. And sometimes, it’s a mercy.

It’s Okay to Feel Impatient

I’ll be honest—there have been moments when I’ve felt the ache of waiting. While our own OCIA team has been deeply kind and attentive, the larger systems—like the tribunal or diocesan offices—sometimes moved at a pace that felt glacial. In those quiet, uncertain stretches, I occasionally wondered if we’d slipped through the cracks.

But every time I brought that ache into prayer, I heard something quiet and unshakable: This is forming you. Not punishing. Not sidelining. Forming.

The slowness forced me to listen more. To reflect more. To dig past emotional surges and ask deeper questions about faith and trust.

The USCCB reminds us that formation is not just intellectual—it’s personal and relational (source). What feels like delay is often invitation—into deeper knowing, deeper surrender, and deeper communion with the Church herself.

Still, the struggle is real. It’s okay to feel frustrated by the pace. It’s okay to feel restless. That doesn’t mean you’re doing something wrong.

There’s a sacred tension between the fire in your heart and the pace of the institutional Church. Hold that tension gently.

You’re not alone. Many converts walk this same path—eager, uncertain, wondering if they’ll ever feel fully caught up.

But over time, that slowness becomes something else. It becomes rhythm. It becomes rootedness. It becomes space to breathe.

Catholic Devotional Tools for Trusting the Wait

Sometimes what we need most in the waiting is a physical reminder to pause, breathe, and trust. That’s where sacred objects come in—not as magical solutions, but as gentle anchors.

I keep a Tiny Saints St. Monica Keychain on my bag. It’s a cheerful little reminder that patient, faithful waiting can be powerful—because St. Monica waited 17 years for her son’s conversion. And her persistence bore fruit.

On my desk is a small Saint Elizabeth (Mother of John the Baptist) figurine. She reminds me that joy sometimes arrives late—and that unexpected hope is holy, too.

If you’re navigating a season where grace feels slow, surrounding yourself with reminders of saints who understood waiting can be quietly transformative.

Final Thought: Embracing the Slow Work of God

If you’re in this in-between place, I want you to hear this from someone walking it with you: You are not behind. You are not forgotten. And you are not disqualified because the calendar hasn’t caught up to your heart.

You are becoming Catholic in the marrow. You are participating in the Church’s slow grace. And that counts.

If you need a place to feel seen in the meantime, we’ve built Converting to Hope for you—for all of us—who are finding holiness in the hesitation. We are your companions in the waiting, not because we’ve finished it, but because we’ve chosen to stay.

Take heart. The slow Church sees you. And so does Christ.

You may feel stuck, but you’re still becoming.

God’s timeline is not dictated by parish schedules. Your growth is not stalled because someone forgot to call. Every moment of waiting can still be infused with grace.

And maybe, just maybe, the slow Church is exactly what our fast hearts need—to breathe, to heal, and to deepen our faith through real Catholic formation.

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How the Saints Handled Doubt (and What It Means for You)

 

Saints weren’t immune to doubt. They just didn’t let it have the last word.

When you think of a saint, it’s easy to imagine unwavering certainty: pristine faith, perfect trust, no questions. But the real stories are far more human—and far more encouraging.

From dark nights to intellectual struggles, many of the saints wrestled with doubt. And not just once. Their paths were winding. Their trust was hard-won. And yet they stayed. They kept praying. They kept walking.

This post isn’t about glorifying struggle for its own sake. It’s about showing how real faith includes real questions—and how doubt can become a teacher, not just a tormentor.

Saint Case Study #1: Mother Teresa

Her doubt: For nearly 50 years, she experienced what she called a "darkness" in her prayer life—a sense that God was absent, even as she served Him with her whole being.

What she did: She kept going. She remained faithful to prayer, service, and the sacraments. She didn't deny the silence—she offered it.

What we can learn:

• Silence doesn’t equal abandonment.

• Your faithfulness matters even when your feelings vanish.

• God's presence is not always emotional—it is often sacrificial.

Try this: On days when God feels distant, light a candle and say aloud, “I will still show up.”

Saint Case Study #2: Saint John Henry Newman

His doubt: As an Anglican priest deeply drawn to Catholicism, Newman faced intense internal conflict. His conversion was slow, full of intellectual and spiritual tension.

What he did: He read deeply, prayed steadily, and allowed the tension to guide him into greater clarity. He didn’t rush his decision.

What we can learn:

• Doubt can be a sign you’re thinking deeply, not falling apart.

• Slow discernment is holy.

• Faith can grow through questions, not in spite of them.

Try this: Journal the questions that won’t leave you alone—not to solve them immediately, but to notice where they’re pointing you.

Saint Case Study #3: Saint Thérèse of Lisieux

Her doubt: Toward the end of her life, Thérèse experienced a crisis of faith. She doubted heaven, God’s love, and the very promises she had built her life on.

What she did: She clung to trust, even when her feelings contradicted it. She described walking in darkness, but holding God’s hand anyway.

What we can learn:

• Trust isn’t the absence of fear. It’s choosing love anyway.

• When your head is full of questions, your heart can still choose to stay.

• God receives even the smallest, most fragile acts of trust.

Try this: When doubts come, whisper, “Jesus, I trust in You”—not because you feel it, but because you choose it.

Saint Case Study #4: Saint Thomas the Apostle

His doubt: He missed the Resurrection appearance and refused to believe without seeing Jesus himself. His nickname—Doubting Thomas—has stuck for centuries.

What he did: He brought his doubt directly to Christ. He didn’t fake belief—he asked for proof. And Jesus met him there.

What we can learn:

• Jesus doesn’t shame honest doubt.

• Bringing your doubt to God is an act of faith.

• You don’t have to pretend.

Try this: In prayer, speak plainly. “I don’t understand. I’m scared. Help my unbelief.” That’s not a failure. That’s how trust grows.

Final Thought: Doubt Isn’t the Enemy. Despair Is.

Doubt can deepen your faith when it drives you to ask, seek, and wrestle with God. The saints show us that fidelity isn’t about perfect certainty. It’s about continuing the conversation.

So if you're walking with questions right now, you're not disqualified. You're walking a path many holy feet have walked before you.

Want a simple tool for navigating seasons of doubt and clarity? Download our Lectio Divina Journal Template in the Ko-Fi store to pray with scripture and track where God is moving—even in the questions.

Saint Dymphna: A Witness of Courage, Compassion, and Healing

When we think of saints, we often imagine people whose lives were tidy, holy, and peaceful. But many saints lived through chaos, grief, and trauma. Saint Dymphna is one of those saints. Her story is difficult—but her witness is deeply pastoral for anyone who has experienced fear, family wounds, or mental anguish.

Dymphna was born in Ireland in the 7th century, the daughter of a pagan king and a Christian mother. She was secretly baptized and raised in the Christian faith. When her mother died, her father—grief-stricken and mentally unstable—descended into a dark place. In his madness, he desired to marry Dymphna, seeking to replace his wife with his daughter. Dymphna fled the country with her confessor, Father Gerebernus, and a few companions. They found refuge in Gheel, Belgium, where they built a life of prayer and service to the poor. But her father eventually tracked her down, and when she refused his demands, he killed her. She was only around fifteen years old.

What We Learn from Dymphna

1. You Are Not Defined by What You've Survived

Dymphna’s story reminds us that suffering, even unimaginable suffering, does not define the worth of a soul. She is remembered not for how she died, but for how she lived—with bravery, integrity, and compassion. Her story offers solace to anyone who has faced abuse, trauma, or fear: God sees, God knows, and God calls you by name—not by what you’ve endured, but by who you are.

2. God Is Near to the Brokenhearted

Dymphna is the patron saint of those with mental illness, emotional suffering, and nervous disorders. Her intercession is sought not only because of her father’s madness, but because her life—and her death—testify to God’s closeness to those in anguish. If you are navigating the fog of depression, the sting of anxiety, or the weight of emotional pain, Dymphna stands with you. Not as a perfect example, but as a friend who has known suffering and has been made whole in God.

3. Healing Is Possible, Even If the Story Isn’t Clean

After Dymphna’s death, the town of Gheel became a place of pilgrimage and healing. For centuries, people with mental illness were welcomed into the community, not institutionalized but treated with dignity and integrated into village life. It became a model for compassionate care long before modern psychology. This legacy tells us something profound: even when life ends in tragedy, God can still bring healing. The ripple effects of faithfulness, even in pain, can outlast the suffering.

4. Boundaries Are Not a Lack of Love

Dymphna fled because staying would have been unsafe. Her courage to leave—even from someone she once trusted—was not a rejection of love, but a protection of dignity. For anyone struggling to reconcile faith with the need to walk away from harmful situations, Dymphna offers a powerful witness: that God honors boundaries, especially when they guard the sacredness of life.

A Final Word of Encouragement

Saint Dymphna’s life is not easy reading, but it is essential reading. In her, we see that holiness does not require an easy life or a picture-perfect ending. It requires fidelity, courage, and a heart turned toward God.

If you are struggling with mental health or emotional wounds, you are not alone. Saint Dymphna is already praying for you. And you don’t need to be healed to be holy—you only need to be willing.

Saint Dymphna, friend of the wounded, pray for us.

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How the Early Church Celebrated Easter

Introduction

Easter is the cornerstone of the Christian faith, the celebration of Christ’s resurrection and the fulfillment of God’s redemptive plan. But how did the earliest Christians observe this most sacred of days? Long before modern traditions like sunrise services, chocolate eggs, and floral decorations, the first believers commemorated Easter with deep reverence, powerful symbolism, and a focus on the resurrection’s transformative power in their lives.

By looking at the practices of the early Church, we can gain insight into how the first followers of Christ understood Easter, what it meant to them, and how their traditions can deepen our own celebration of the risen Lord.

Easter in the Apostolic and Early Church

1. The Jewish Roots of Easter: The Paschal Connection

The first Christians, many of whom were Jewish, saw Easter as the fulfillment of Passover (Pesach). Just as the Passover lamb was slain and its blood marked the doorposts of the faithful, Jesus—the Lamb of God—was sacrificed for the salvation of the world.

One of the earliest historical references to this connection comes from Melito of Sardis (c. 160 AD), who wrote a homily called On the Pascha, which describes Jesus as the true Passover Lamb. In this sermon, Melito proclaims that just as the Israelites were freed from slavery in Egypt, humanity is freed from sin through Christ’s sacrifice. This early understanding shaped Christian theology and deepened the Church’s Easter celebrations.

The early Church’s Easter celebration was deeply tied to this Paschal mystery, emphasizing that Christ’s resurrection was the new exodus—the deliverance from the slavery of sin and death. Many of the first Christians continued to observe Passover but did so in the light of the resurrection, seeing Jesus as the ultimate Passover Lamb.

2. The Vigil and Baptismal Celebrations

One of the most significant early Christian practices was the Easter Vigil, an all-night gathering of prayer, Scripture readings, and hymn singing that culminated in the dawn celebration of the resurrection.

We have historical accounts from figures like Tertullian (c. 200 AD) and Hippolytus of Rome (c. 215 AD), who describe how the Easter Vigil was the most sacred time for baptisms. According to Hippolytus’ Apostolic Tradition, catechumens (new believers preparing for baptism) would fast, renounce sin, and profess their faith before being immersed in water at sunrise—symbolizing their passage from death to life in Christ.

Even today, the Easter Vigil remains one of the most solemn and beautiful liturgies in the Church, echoing these early traditions., an all-night gathering of prayer, Scripture readings, and hymn singing that culminated in the dawn celebration of the resurrection.

3. The Celebration of the Eucharist

At the heart of the early Easter observance was the celebration of the Eucharist (Holy Communion). The early Christians gathered to break bread in remembrance of Christ’s sacrifice, just as He commanded at the Last Supper.

One of the earliest descriptions of an Easter Eucharist comes from Justin Martyr (c. 155 AD), who wrote in his First Apology about Christian worship. He explains how believers met on Sunday, read from the Scriptures, prayed, and then received the Eucharist, which they saw as the true body and blood of Christ. This testimony provides a glimpse into how central the Eucharist was to early Easter celebrations.

The Eucharistic feast was not only a commemoration of the resurrection but a participation in it—the real presence of Christ among His people. The joy of the risen Lord permeated their gatherings, as they proclaimed, “Christ is risen! Truly, He is risen!”. The early Christians gathered to break bread in remembrance of Christ’s sacrifice, just as He commanded at the Last Supper.

Fasting, Feasting, and the Joy of the Resurrection

1. The Fast Leading to Easter (The Origins of Lent)

Early Christians prepared for Easter through fasting, a practice that evolved into what we now call Lent. While modern Lent lasts 40 days, early fasting traditions varied—some fasted for a few days before Easter, while others extended their preparation for weeks.

One historical account comes from Eusebius of Caesarea (c. 325 AD), who noted in Church History that different Christian communities had different lengths for their pre-Easter fasts. By the time of the Council of Nicaea (325 AD), the 40-day fast had become more standardized, leading to the Lenten practice we recognize today.

The purpose of fasting was not mere ritual but a spiritual preparation, a way of aligning oneself with Christ’s suffering before rejoicing in His victory. This self-denial heightened the joy of Easter morning, making the feast all the more celebratory.. While modern Lent lasts 40 days, early fasting traditions varied—some fasted for a few days before Easter, while others extended their preparation for weeks.

2. The Easter Feast: A Time of Great Rejoicing

After the solemnity of Lent and Holy Week, Easter was marked by joyful feasting. The resurrection was not just a doctrine to be affirmed—it was a lived reality, a victory worth celebrating. The early Christians saw their Easter feasts as a foretaste of the heavenly banquet, a tangible expression of the joy of salvation.

One well-documented account comes from John Chrysostom (c. 400 AD), whose famous Easter Homily reflects the exuberant joy of the feast. He calls all—those who have fasted and those who have not—to join in the celebration, emphasizing that the resurrection is a gift to all. His words capture the spirit of early Christian Easter feasts, where the entire community rejoiced in Christ’s victory over death.

This tradition continues today, as many cultures observe Easter with festive meals, reinforcing the deep spiritual meaning behind the celebration.. The resurrection was not just a doctrine to be affirmed—it was a lived reality, a victory worth celebrating. The early Christians saw their Easter feasts as a foretaste of the heavenly banquet, a tangible expression of the joy of salvation.

The Message of Easter: Living the Resurrection

For the early Church, Easter was not just a single day of celebration—it was the defining event of their faith. They saw themselves as Easter people, called to live in the power of the resurrection every day.

This is the same challenge we face today. Easter is more than a holiday; it is a call to renewal, to embrace the new life Christ offers. As the first Christians boldly proclaimed the risen Christ, so too are we called to reflect His light, live in His victory, and share the hope of the resurrection with the world.

How can we reclaim the depth of Easter in our own lives? How can we celebrate as the early Church did—with a focus on Christ’s victory, the power of the sacraments, and the joy of new life in Him?

For more on Easter, check out the Catechism of The Catholic Church. My favorite version is the one put out by the USCCB with added teaching and devotional elements. But you can also check out the most inexpensive version. Either way, this volume is essential for any Catholic family.

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• The Face of God in the Book of Isaiah – A theological and devotional study on the themes of divine revelation and Christology in Isaiah.
• 365-Day Prayer Guide & Journal – A full-year resource with daily Scripture, meditations, and journal prompts for deepening your spiritual life.

How Your Support Helps

By supporting Converting to Hope, you’re not only investing in high-quality Catholic resources, but you’re also directly contributing to the mission of the Church. 50% of all proceeds are donated to the Catholic Ministry Appeal, ensuring that essential ministries in the St. Petersburg Diocese receive support.

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St. John Henry Newman: A Convert’s Guide to Understanding the Catholic Church

 

Introduction

For many Protestants considering conversion to Catholicism, the journey is filled with theological questions, personal doubts, and often, opposition from family and friends. St. John Henry Newman—a towering intellectual and a convert himself—offers a profound source of guidance for those navigating this transition.

Newman’s journey from Anglicanism to Catholicism was not an easy one. He wrestled deeply with history, authority, and the true nature of the Church, ultimately coming to believe that “to be deep in history is to cease to be Protestant.” His writings and personal struggles resonate deeply with modern converts, offering timeless lessons about faith, perseverance, and the search for truth. For a modern version of the conversion experience, I really recommend Rome Sweet Home by converts from Protestantism Scott and Kimberly Hahn.

If you are considering—or in the midst of—conversion, here’s what you can learn from St. John Henry Newman’s own path to the Catholic Church.

1. Seek Truth Relentlessly—Even When It’s Uncomfortable

Newman did not take the idea of conversion lightly. As a respected Anglican theologian, he knew that embracing Catholicism would come with great personal and professional costs. Yet, he remained committed to seeking truth, no matter where it led.

What Converts Can Learn:

• Be willing to ask hard questions about history, authority, and doctrine.
• Recognize that truth is not about comfort—it is about following Christ wherever He leads.
• Intellectual honesty requires being open to where evidence and deep study point you.

“I sought to hear the voice of God and climbed the topmost steeple, but God declared: ‘Go down again – I dwell among the people.’” – St. John Henry Newman

2. Embrace Church History as Part of Your Faith Journey

One of Newman’s most famous conclusions was that history itself refutes Protestantism. He found that the early Church—from its structure to its sacraments—looked unmistakably Catholic.

What Converts Can Learn:

• Church history matters. The early Church was not Protestant; it was sacramental, hierarchical, and liturgical.
• If you are struggling with doctrines like the papacy, apostolic succession, or the Eucharist, study the writings of the early Church Fathers.
• Truth is not about modern opinions but about continuity with what Christians have believed for centuries.

“To be deep in history is to cease to be Protestant.” – St. John Henry Newman

3. Expect Opposition—And Persevere in Faith

Newman’s conversion cost him friends, status, and a career within Anglicanism. His intellectual integrity forced him to leave behind everything he had known, stepping into the unknown with trust in God.

What Converts Can Learn:

• Family and friends may not understand your decision. That does not mean you are wrong.
• Conversion is not just an intellectual choice—it is an act of obedience to where God is calling you.
• Christ Himself promised that following Him would come with sacrifices—but also great rewards.

“I will not lead you where the way is easy, but where the way is right.” – St. John Henry Newman

4. The Role of Conscience and the Magisterium

Newman famously wrote about the relationship between conscience and Church authority. Many Protestants struggle with the idea of submitting to the Magisterium, but Newman found that true freedom comes in obedience to God’s revealed truth.

What Converts Can Learn:

• Conscience is not about personal preference but about seeking what is objectively true.
• The Catholic Church’s authority is not a human invention—it is the structure Christ established.
• True faith is not just “me and my Bible”—it is being part of the Church Christ founded.

“Conscience has rights because it has duties.” – St. John Henry Newman

5. Let Your Conversion Deepen Your Spiritual Life

Newman’s journey to Catholicism was not just theological—it was deeply spiritual. He found in the Catholic Church the fullness of grace through the sacraments, a richness of devotion, and a deeper personal relationship with Christ.

What Converts Can Learn:

• Conversion is not just about changing labels—it is about deepening your walk with Christ.
• The sacraments—especially the Eucharist and Confession—will transform your spiritual life.
• Growth in holiness comes not just from belief, but from living your faith daily.

“Growth is the only evidence of life.” – St. John Henry Newman

Conclusion: Your Journey is Part of a Greater Story

Newman’s path to the Catholic Church was long, difficult, and at times, painful—but it led him to the fullness of truth and the beauty of Christ’s Church. If you are struggling with your own conversion, take heart: you are not alone.

The same God who guided Newman will guide you. Trust in His leading, stay rooted in prayer, and know that seeking truth will always bring you closer to Christ.

Next Steps for Converts:

• Read Newman’s “Apologia Pro Vita Sua”—his personal account of conversion.
• Study the early Church Fathers to understand Catholic continuity with history.
• Find a Catholic mentor or priest to help guide your journey.
• Trust that God will give you the grace to follow where He leads.

“God has created me to do Him some definite service.” – St. John Henry Newman

Your conversion is part of God’s greater plan. Walk forward with faith.

Want to learn more about the heart of Catholic belief about seekers? I like to recommend the Encyclopedia of Catholic Social Thought. It's a two-volume deep-dive into why Catholics behave the way they do in the world. 

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A Convert’s Guide to Navigating Catholic Parish Life (Without Feeling Lost)

Converting to Catholicism is a deeply personal and often transformative experience. But after the Easter Vigil and the initial excitement of joining the Church, many converts find themselves wondering, What now? The structure, traditions, and rhythms of parish life can feel overwhelming, especially for those coming from non-liturgical backgrounds. This guide is designed to help new Catholics integrate into parish life with confidence, avoiding the common pitfalls of feeling isolated or unsure of where they belong.

1. Understanding Parish Life: It’s More Than Just Sunday Mass (Catechism of the Catholic Church, 2177)

One of the biggest shifts for new Catholics is realizing that parish life extends beyond Sunday Mass. While Mass is the heart of Catholic worship, parishes are communities with ongoing ministries, social events, and spiritual formation opportunities.

What to Expect at a Parish

• Regular Mass Schedules – Most parishes offer multiple Mass times, including daily Mass, which is a great way to deepen your spiritual life.
• Sacramental Life – Confession, Eucharistic adoration, baptisms, weddings, and funerals all play an integral role in parish life.
• Ministries and Groups – Bible studies, service groups, and community outreach provide ways to connect beyond the pews.
• Liturgical Seasons and Events – Advent, Lent, Holy Days of Obligation, and feast days bring unique traditions and celebrations.

Your parish is more than just a place of worship—it is a spiritual home. Engaging with the community fosters deeper connections and enriches your faith journey.

2. Finding Your Place in the Parish

Many converts experience a post-RCIA void—a feeling of spiritual drift after completing their formal instruction. If this happens to you, don’t panic. The key is to take the next step in deepening your faith and relationships within the parish.

Ways to Get Involved:

• Join a Ministry – Whether you feel drawn to liturgical service (lector, choir, altar server) or outreach (food pantry, pro-life ministry, St. Vincent de Paul Society), your gifts have a place in the Church.
• Find a Catholic Study Group – Bible studies, book clubs, or RCIA follow-up programs can provide ongoing formation and fellowship.
• Volunteer for Parish Events – Helping at festivals, fish fries, and fundraising events is a great way to meet people and serve the community.
• Attend Adoration or Prayer Groups – Spending time before the Blessed Sacrament or joining a Rosary group fosters both spiritual growth and connection with fellow Catholics.

The Church is not just a place to attend—it is a place to belong. Stepping forward will open doors to meaningful friendships and a deeper relationship with God.

3. Understanding Catholic Culture and Etiquette (Catechism of the Catholic Church, 2142-2167)

For many converts, Catholic customs can feel foreign at first. Whether it’s knowing when to kneel, understanding feast days, or learning the unwritten rules of parish life, here are some practical insights:

Common Practices to Know:

• Genuflecting and Bowing – Catholics genuflect before entering a pew if the tabernacle is present and bow before receiving the Eucharist.
• Sign of the Cross – This sacred gesture is a visible expression of faith, used in prayer and worship.
• Receiving the Eucharist – Catholics may receive on the tongue or in the hand, but should always do so reverently.
• Holy Days of Obligation – These are special days outside of Sunday when Catholics are required to attend Mass.
• Fasting and Abstinence – Fridays in Lent require abstinence from meat, and Ash Wednesday and Good Friday include fasting.

Catholicism is rich in tradition, and while it may seem overwhelming at first, these practices soon become second nature.

4. Building Catholic Friendships (Catechism of the Catholic Church, 1939-1942)

One of the biggest challenges for converts is forming authentic friendships within the Church. Unlike some Protestant communities, Catholic parishes don’t always have built-in social structures. Friendships often develop through shared service, prayer, and participation.

Tips for Making Catholic Friends:

• Attend Parish Socials – Coffee and donuts after Mass, parish dinners, and other gatherings are great places to start conversations.
• Seek Out Fellow Converts – Many converts share similar struggles and can offer guidance.
• Talk to the Priest or Deacon – They often know of groups or opportunities that align with your interests.
• Get Involved in Small Groups – Whether it’s a men’s or women’s group, a young adult gathering, or a prayer circle, smaller groups make it easier to form connections.

Relationships take time, but intentional engagement creates lasting bonds.

5. Avoiding Common Pitfalls

1. Expecting the Parish to “Come to You”

Unlike some Protestant churches that assign mentors or actively recruit newcomers into small groups, Catholic parishes often operate on an opt-in model. Take initiative—attend events, introduce yourself, and look for ways to contribute.

2. Becoming Overwhelmed by Catholic Devotions

The Church offers countless devotions, but you don’t need to embrace them all at once. Focus on what draws you closer to God rather than feeling pressure to adopt every practice immediately.

3. Letting Fear of Mistakes Hold You Back

Catholicism is full of lifelong learners. No one expects perfection—only a heart willing to grow in faith. Engage confidently, knowing that missteps are part of the journey.

4. Isolating Yourself Spiritually

If you struggle with doubts or difficulties, don’t keep them to yourself. Seek guidance from a priest, a spiritual director, or trusted Catholic friends. Faith is meant to be lived in community.

6. Growing Deeper in Your Faith (Catechism of the Catholic Church, 2650-2651)

Catholicism is a lifelong journey of growth. After RCIA, your spiritual formation continues.

Ways to Continue Growing:

• Develop a Prayer Routine – Daily prayer, whether through Scripture, the Rosary, or silent meditation, deepens your faith.
• Read Catholic Books – Classics like Introduction to the Devout Life by St. Francis de Sales or The Imitation of Christ by Thomas à Kempis offer timeless wisdom.
• Learn About the Saints – The saints provide examples of faith in action, offering inspiration for daily life.
• Stay Rooted in the Sacraments – Frequent confession and regular reception of the Eucharist provide grace for the journey.
• Ask Questions – The depth of Catholic teaching ensures there is always more to discover.

Final Encouragement: You Belong Here (Catechism of the Catholic Church, 1267-1269)

If you’re a new Catholic feeling a bit lost, take heart—you are not alone. Every Catholic, even cradle Catholics, had to learn these rhythms at some point. The Church is vast and ancient, but it is also your home. Step forward, engage, and trust that God has a place for you here.

What aspects of parish life have you found most challenging? How have you navigated them?

For a deep-dive on Catholic sociology and how it applies at the parish level, turn to the Encyclopedia of Catholic Social Thought. This two volume set is a deep dive into why Catholics behave the way they do.

The Life and Lessons of St. Padre Pio: What We Can Learn from His Example

St. Padre Pio is one of the most beloved saints of the 20th century. While many know him for his miraculous healings, stigmata, and supernatural gifts, the true power of his life lies in the lessons he left us—lessons of suffering, humility, and radical trust in God. His life was not about the miraculous, but about what it means to live as a true servant of Christ, embracing both suffering and grace.

The Lesson of Redemptive Suffering

Padre Pio bore the wounds of Christ in his body, but he never saw them as a burden—only as a way to unite himself with the suffering of Jesus. His pain was not meaningless; it was an offering, a participation in Christ’s passion for the salvation of souls.

In our own lives, suffering is inevitable. Whether it is physical pain, emotional wounds, or spiritual struggles, we can follow Padre Pio’s example by transforming our suffering into something meaningful. Instead of resisting hardship or falling into despair, we can offer it up for others—whether for the souls in purgatory, for the conversion of loved ones, or for those in need of grace. This doesn’t mean we should seek suffering, but rather that we should trust that God can bring good even from our pain.

The Power of Prayer and Spiritual Resilience

One of the most well-known aspects of Padre Pio’s life was his deep commitment to prayer. He often said, “Pray, hope, and don’t worry.” This simple yet profound statement encapsulates a spiritual mindset that every Catholic can embrace.

Padre Pio prayed constantly, often spending hours in communion with God. He believed in the power of intercession and frequently reminded people that prayer could change hearts, heal wounds, and bring souls closer to Christ.

In our busy world, it’s easy to let prayer become an afterthought. But if Padre Pio could maintain an intense prayer life despite suffering, demands from others, and spiritual attacks, we can certainly strive to integrate more prayer into our daily routines. Whether it’s through the Rosary, Eucharistic Adoration, or simple moments of silent conversation with God, we can follow his example by making prayer the foundation of our lives.

The Call to Humility and Obedience

Despite his supernatural gifts, Padre Pio never sought attention or glory. He faced constant scrutiny, even from Church authorities who questioned his stigmata and mystical experiences. Yet, he never fought back in pride or indignation. Instead, he submitted in obedience, accepting humiliations as a way to imitate Christ’s humility.

We live in an age that prizes recognition, validation, and self-promotion. But Padre Pio teaches us that humility is the path to true holiness. He reminds us that we don’t need to seek approval from the world—only faithfulness to God. We can practice humility in our daily lives by embracing patience, accepting correction without defensiveness, and serving others without expecting recognition.

Loving Others Through Sacrifice

Padre Pio spent countless hours hearing confessions, guiding souls, and offering himself completely to the needs of others. He didn’t seek comfort or an easy life; instead, he poured himself out for others, embodying Christ’s command to love sacrificially.

How often do we avoid inconvenience, put ourselves first, or hesitate to go out of our way for others? Padre Pio challenges us to embrace a life of service, even when it is difficult. Whether it is through acts of charity, showing patience with difficult people, or simply being present for someone in need, we can reflect the love of Christ by making sacrifices for others.

Final Reflections: Living Like Padre Pio

Padre Pio’s life was not about spectacle or supernatural gifts—it was about unwavering faith, endurance in suffering, and love for Christ. His example teaches us that holiness is not reserved for the extraordinary, but is found in the daily choices we make: to embrace suffering with purpose, to pray with conviction, to remain humble, and to love others with selfless devotion.

As we reflect on his life, we should ask ourselves: Where in my life am I being called to surrender more deeply to God? How can I turn my struggles into offerings for others? In what ways can I deepen my prayer life and serve with humility? If we take these questions seriously, we will begin to walk the same path that led Padre Pio to sainthood.

His legacy is not just about what he did—it’s about what we do in response.

Saint Padre Pio is also featured in the United States Catholic Catechism for Adults, one of my favorite versions of the catechism.

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Why Do Catholics Pray to Saints? A Theological Breakdown

 

Introduction

For many outside the Catholic Church, the practice of praying to saints can seem confusing—some even mistakenly believe that Catholics worship the saints. However, Catholic teaching is clear: worship belongs to God alone. When Catholics “pray to” saints, they are not worshiping them, but rather asking for their intercession, just as one might ask a friend or family member to pray for them.

Perhaps you’ve wondered about this practice yourself. Maybe you’ve lost a loved one and instinctively felt their presence still watching over you, or maybe you’ve turned to a trusted mentor for wisdom in times of struggle. The Catholic understanding of the Communion of Saints takes these natural human experiences and places them in the light of faith—showing us that we are never alone.

This article explores the biblical, theological, and historical foundations of why Catholics turn to the saints for guidance and intercession, focusing on the inspirational role of the saints rather than miraculous claims. Of course, for the ultimate guide, turn to the Catechism of the Catholic Church. I prefer this version, put out by the USCCB

The Communion of Saints: A Biblical and Catechetical Foundation

Catholics believe in the Communion of Saints, a doctrine that teaches that the Church is made up of three groups:

1. The Church Militant – Those of us still living on earth, striving for holiness.
2. The Church Suffering – Souls in purgatory, being purified before entering heaven.
3. The Church Triumphant – Those who have entered heaven and are in full communion with God.

This belief is deeply rooted in Scripture and supported by the Catechism of the Catholic Church (CCC 946-962). It is a reminder that God’s family is not bound by time or space.

Biblical Support for Asking Saints to Intercede

The idea of asking others to pray for us is thoroughly biblical:

• 1 Timothy 2:1-3 – St. Paul urges that “supplications, prayers, intercessions, and thanksgivings be made for all people.” If we ask those on earth to pray for us, how much more should we seek the intercession of those already in heaven?
• Revelation 5:8 – The saints in heaven are depicted as presenting the prayers of the faithful before God: “The twenty-four elders fell down before the Lamb, each holding a harp, and golden bowls full of incense, which are the prayers of the saints.”
• Hebrews 12:1 – Describes the saints as a “great cloud of witnesses” surrounding us, inspiring and encouraging us in the faith.

Catechism Teaching on the Role of Saints

The Catechism affirms:

• “Being more closely united to Christ, those who dwell in heaven fix the whole Church more firmly in holiness… They do not cease to intercede with the Father for us.” (CCC 956)
• “It is therefore quite in accordance with the truth that we should love these friends and fellow heirs of Jesus Christ, who are also our brothers and extraordinary benefactors.” (CCC 957)

The Church sees the saints as exemplary models of faith, and their prayers are powerful precisely because they are in the presence of God (James 5:16). But their role is not just about intercession—it is about companionship. They have walked the road of faith before us, and they remind us that holiness is possible.

Saints as Role Models: Finding Strength in Their Lives

Beyond intercession, Catholics turn to saints for inspiration and encouragement. The saints were not perfect; they struggled, suffered, and doubted just as we do. Their lives prove that holiness is possible, no matter one’s background or circumstances.

One example is St. Josephine Bakhita, a Sudanese woman who was kidnapped and sold into slavery as a child. Despite unimaginable suffering, she found faith in Christ and ultimately became a Catholic nun. She forgave her captors and spent her life serving others with gentleness and joy. Her story is not one of supernatural miracles, but of perseverance, healing, and the power of faith.

Her example teaches us that faith transforms pain into purpose—a message that resonates with anyone who has endured hardship.

Similarly, St. Thérèse of Lisieux, known as “The Little Flower,” lived an ordinary life, yet she developed a “little way” of holiness—serving God in small, daily acts of love. Her example speaks to those who feel like their efforts are insignificant, showing that God sees and cherishes even the smallest acts of kindness.

What About Directly Praying to God?

Some may ask, why not just pray directly to God? Catholics absolutely do! Every Catholic prayer, whether said privately or in the liturgy, is ultimately directed to God alone.

However, just as Christians ask friends, pastors, or family members to pray for them, they also ask the saints—who are closer to God than we are—to pray on their behalf. This is not a detour around God but a participation in the unity of the Body of Christ.

St. Paul himself urges Christians to “bear one another’s burdens” (Galatians 6:2), and intercession is one way the saints continue to do so from heaven.

Saints and the Modern Catholic

Many Catholics today find comfort in the companionship of the saints, especially during difficult times. Unlike figures of the distant past, saints feel real, relatable, and deeply human. They experienced suffering, loss, doubt, and fear—yet they remained faithful.

A young woman struggling with anxiety might find solace in St. Dymphna, who is the patron saint of mental health. A parent praying for patience might look to St. Monica, who prayed for years for her wayward son, St. Augustine. A person feeling lost in their career might turn to St. Joseph, a quiet but strong figure who worked diligently as a carpenter while trusting in God’s plan.

For many Catholics, these saints become friends in faith—not because they expect miracles, but because they find encouragement in their struggles and triumphs.

Conclusion: The Saints as Our Spiritual Family

Praying to saints is not about replacing God, but about recognizing that we are part of a larger, spiritual family. Just as we ask our earthly friends to pray for us, we ask our heavenly friends to do the same.

The saints are not far-off, untouchable figures—they are real people who walked the path of faith before us. Their lives remind us that holiness is possible, suffering has meaning, and we are never alone in our journey.

 Take Action: Choose a saint whose story resonates with you. Read about their life, reflect on their struggles, and invite them to walk with you in faith. Their journey can help illuminate your own.

Why Do People Convert to Catholicism? The Most Common Reasons (and Misconceptions)

Every year, thousands of people make the journey into the Catholic Church. Some come from other Christian denominations, others from entirely secular or non-religious backgrounds. But why? What draws people to Catholicism in an age when many are leaving organized religion? we will begin to answer these questions here, but for a deeper, heartfelt and honest dive into one family's conversion, check out the book Rome Sweet Home by Scott and Kimberly Hahn.

Let’s explore the most common reasons why people convert to Catholicism—including my own family's journey—and dispel some of the biggest misconceptions along the way.

1. The Search for Truth

Many converts describe Catholicism as the answer to their search for objective truth. For me, my experience in Protestantism felt like a starving person reaching out for something they deeply needed—only to be fed wax fruit. My soul knew there was something more real out there. In a world of shifting beliefs and relativism, the Church’s consistent teachings provide an anchor.

• What draws them? The depth of Church history, Apostolic Succession, and a faith that has remained doctrinally intact for over 2,000 years.
• Misconception: Some think Catholic teachings are arbitrary “rules.” In reality, Catholic doctrine is built on logic, history, and biblical foundations.

2. The Eucharist: Christ’s Real Presence

For many, the belief in the Real Presence of Christ in the Eucharist is the defining reason for conversion. For me, this was the most compelling reason—if the Eucharist is truly Christ’s gift of Himself to us, then participating in it is the most important thing in life.

• What draws them? The idea that Jesus is physically present in the Eucharist, just as He promised in John 6.
• Misconception: Some assume Catholics “re-sacrifice” Jesus at every Mass. In truth, the Mass is a re-presentation of the one sacrifice of Christ, not a new one.

3. The Authority of the Church and the Witness of Early Church Fathers

Many converts find that Protestantism’s wide range of interpretations left them feeling lost. They seek a Church with authority to teach truth—not just personal opinions on Scripture. For my husband, the witness of the disciples of the disciples was deeply compelling. As he studied the writings of the Early Church Fathers, he realized that the Catholic Church had the strongest claim to authority.

• What draws them? The Church’s claim to be the original Church founded by Christ, with authority given to Peter and the Apostles.
• Misconception: Some think Catholic doctrine is based on human inventions rather than biblical truth. In reality, Catholic teachings are deeply rooted in Scripture and Tradition.

4. The Beauty of Catholic Worship

We initially thought this would be a problem for us. All the liturgy and tradition seemed like "the traditions of men." As we experienced it, it came to life for us—not a puffed-up set of gatekeeping rituals, but rather a rich reminder of the most important aspects of our faith that we can participate in every day if we choose to.

• What draws them? The reverence of the Mass, the beauty of Gregorian chant, the depth of traditional devotions.
• Misconception: Some believe Catholic worship is “too rigid” or lacking in personal expression. In truth, the liturgy provides a deeply meaningful, communal form of worship centered on Christ.

5. The Communion of Saints

This was the hardest part of conversion for us. We had received so much teaching that this was somehow evil. We were so intent on avoiding "worshiping" Saints, Mary, and Angels. When we found out the realities of what Catholics really do, we found this to be a help to us, not a stumbling block. Many converts are drawn to the Catholic understanding of the Communion of Saints—the idea that the faithful on earth, in purgatory, and in heaven are spiritually connected.

• What draws them? The ability to ask saints for intercession, knowing they are alive in Christ.
• Misconception: Some think Catholics “worship” saints. The truth is that Catholics honor saints and ask for their prayers, just as we ask friends and family to pray for us.

6. A Deeper Understanding of Suffering

Many who have faced suffering find meaning in the Catholic teaching of redemptive suffering—uniting one’s struggles with Christ’s. As a chronic illness sufferer, this was compelling for me. My pain wasn't wasted. I could use it to help others.

• What draws them? The idea that suffering, when offered to God, has deep spiritual value.
• Misconception: Some think Catholics “glorify” suffering. In reality, Catholic teaching emphasizes offering pain to God, not seeking it out unnecessarily.

7. The Call to Holiness

Catholicism offers a clear roadmap for growing in holiness through the sacraments, prayer, and virtue. My husband really resonated with this. He was seeing so much political drift in the churches we attended. People were forsaking the clear moral teachings of the Bible to follow their political parties on both sides of the aisle.

• What draws them? The sacramental life, confession, and the wisdom of saints as models of holiness.
• Misconception: Some assume Catholicism is just about following rules. In truth, it’s about growing in love for God and neighbor.

Final Thoughts: Conversion is a Calling

People don’t convert to Catholicism lightly—it’s often a journey of intense study, prayer, and personal transformation. While each person’s path is unique, the reasons above are some of the most common motivations for entering the Church.

If you’re considering conversion, take your time, ask questions, and let God lead the way. He calls each of us in His perfect timing.

Understanding Jesus’ Cry on the Cross: “My God, My God, Why Have You Forsaken Me?”

As Jesus hung on the cross, he uttered one of the most haunting and misunderstood cries in all of Scripture:

“My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” (Matthew 27:46)

This moment is not just emotionally powerful—it’s theologically rich. These words, drawn directly from Psalm 22, invite us to look deeper. They are not a loss of faith. They are a full and embodied cry of anguish, saturated with scripture, fulfillment, and trust.

A Direct Echo of Psalm 22

Jesus’ cry is not spontaneous. It is intentional. The opening line of Psalm 22 is this:

“My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” (Psalm 22:1)

This psalm begins with abandonment, but it does not end there. As it unfolds, we find a trajectory: from isolation to deliverance, from lament to hope. By invoking this psalm, Jesus does what he so often does throughout his public ministry: he teaches through Scripture. Even from the cross, he is pointing to something larger than the moment of pain.

Entering the Full Depth of Human Suffering

At this moment, Christ is not simply reciting a prophecy—he is living it. He is the fulfillment of Psalm 22 in body and spirit. His words express real abandonment, real agony, and real separation. Not from the Father in essence—but from every felt assurance of consolation.

He feels what we feel when suffering consumes us:
Where is God now? Has He left me, too?

This is the mystery of the Incarnation taken to its most radical depth. Jesus is not performing suffering. He is fully entering it.

And that means when you cry out with confusion, when you feel forgotten, you are not alone. Jesus has gone before you.

Theological Mystery: The Sin-Bearer and the Abandoned

Many theologians reflect on this cry as a glimpse into the cost of sin. Christ, the spotless Lamb, is now bearing the full weight of humanity’s rebellion. In this bearing, he experiences the consequence of sin: distance from God.

“He who knew no sin became sin for us, so that we might become the righteousness of God.” (2 Corinthians 5:21)

That experience—of being cut off, of feeling forsaken—is not fake. It is a lived spiritual reality. Not because the Father rejected the Son, but because the Son entered into our estrangement so we could be restored.

As the Catechism reminds us:

"In the redeeming love that united him to the Father, Jesus knew that the Father had not abandoned him." (CCC 603)

Prophetic Fulfillment in Real Time

Psalm 22 doesn’t just begin with forsakenness—it details the crucifixion with uncanny accuracy:

• "All who see me mock me..." (v.7)

• "They have pierced my hands and feet." (v.16)

• "They divide my garments among them and cast lots for my clothing." (v.18)

Jesus is not only suffering, he is showing us that he is the suffering servant long foretold. By quoting Psalm 22, he aligns his agony with divine prophecy—not in resignation, but in revelation.

Even on the cross, he is revealing the Father.

Pope Benedict XVI: Crying Out in Trust

Pope Benedict XVI reflected deeply on this moment. He reminded us that this cry is both a lament and a prayer. It is not a break in the Trinity. It is the sound of ultimate vulnerability held within divine love.

“In that hour, Jesus takes on himself all the anguish of humanity and all the petitions of salvation history... His cry is not despair, but a profound expression of trust in the Father.”
(Benedict XVI, Homily for Good Friday, Vatican.va)

Even in pain, Jesus prays. Even in silence, he speaks to God.

This is not faithlessness. This is faith at its most honest.

What This Cry Means for Us

When we read this passage, we are invited to:

• Enter the mystery of Jesus’ suffering without rushing to solve it

• See our own abandonment mirrored in his

• Remember the arc of Psalm 22: despair does not get the final word

• Trust that Jesus is present not only in victory, but in devastation

Jesus doesn’t skip the pain. He names it. He enters it. He redeems it.

What This Cry Tells Us About God

One of the most radical truths of the Christian faith is this: God does not stay distant from suffering. He enters it. Not just as an observer, but as one who participates.

Jesus' cry on the cross isn't just a moment of pain—it's a revelation of God's nearness to every hurting soul. It shows us that God is not scandalized by our questions. He does not turn away when we feel lost, undone, or confused. Instead, He meets us in that space. Not always with immediate answers, but always with presence.

This cry also dismantles the false idea that faith requires constant strength. Jesus—fully divine, fully human—models a kind of faith that includes lament, doubt, and longing. If the Son of God can cry out, so can we.

In a world that glorifies resolution and quick comfort, Jesus teaches us to stay present in the mystery. To name the ache. To pray the psalms. To trust that God is still listening, even when it feels like He is silent.

Final Thought: When You Feel Forsaken

Jesus didn’t quote Psalm 22 because he doubted God.
He quoted it because he trusted God to meet him in the silence.

If you feel forsaken, forgotten, or unseen—you are not outside of God’s reach. You are, in fact, walking a path Jesus knows well.

And just like the psalm ends with rescue and praise, so does the story of the cross. Because the cry of abandonment is not the end. It is the turning point.

"He has not despised or disdained the suffering of the afflicted one; he has not hidden his face from him, but has listened to his cry for help." (Psalm 22:24)

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Want to go deeper? This and many other themes are beautifully explored in the Catechism of the Catholic Church. The USCCB edition is especially readable, with footnotes and clarity for prayerful study.

Saint Teresa of Calcutta: Radical Love in Everyday Holiness

 

Some saints lived in monasteries. Some preached to kings. Saint Teresa of Calcutta spent most of her life washing wounds, holding the dying, and finding Christ in the gutters of human suffering.

She didn’t chase grandeur. She didn’t want fame. Her one mission—spoken clearly and lived daily—was this: “To love Jesus in the distressing disguise of the poor.”

In a noisy world full of ambition and distraction, Mother Teresa offers us something beautifully simple and radically holy: Love the person in front of you.

Holiness Starts at Home

One of her most quoted lines is also one of her most challenging:

“If you want to change the world, go home and love your family.”

Mother Teresa understood that true charity starts closest to us—not in distant missions or noble causes, but in the small, sometimes gritty work of loving the people we live with.

Before solving global poverty, she said, love the people who frustrate you. The ones who leave dishes in the sink. The ones whose wounds you can’t fix. The ones who need your patience more than your plans.

This message is especially relevant during Lent—a season not just for fasting, but for deepening love. What good is giving up chocolate if it doesn’t make us kinder? What’s the point of penance if it doesn’t soften our hearts?

No One Is Too Poor to Be Loved

Mother Teresa didn’t weigh who was “deserving.” She didn’t require moral backstories, insurance, or stability. She saw the face of Christ in every person, especially the poor and dying.

“Each one of them is Jesus in disguise.”

To her, no act of love was too small: a hand held, a smile offered, a mouth fed. Her radical vision of dignity aligned perfectly with Catholic social teaching. She embodied the principle that human life is sacred not because of what it produces, but because it reflects the image of God.

She didn’t serve the poor out of pity. She served them out of reverence.

Her Secret Suffering: The Long Night of the Soul

What many people don’t know is that Saint Teresa spent much of her life in spiritual darkness. Despite an early experience of God’s voice and call, she later entered what the mystics call the dark night of the soul—a prolonged sense of God’s absence.

Her prayers often felt unanswered. Her soul felt empty. And yet—she stayed.

She chose love over and over again, even when she couldn’t feel God’s presence. That hidden suffering became part of her sanctity. It allowed her to understand the loneliness of the poor more deeply—and to love them not from a place of comfort, but solidarity.

“I have come to love the darkness... for I believe now that it is a part, a very small part, of Jesus’ darkness and pain on earth.”

In her silence, she trusted. In her emptiness, she gave. And in her hidden agony, she loved God all the more.

What Mother Teresa Teaches Ordinary Catholics

Her holiness wasn’t found in visions or eloquence—it was formed in exhaustion, in repeated acts of mercy, in the decision to show up.

If you’ve ever:

• Felt like your prayer life is dry

• Wondered whether small things matter

• Been too tired to be “holy”

• Loved someone who didn’t love you back

...then Saint Teresa is your patron.

She teaches us that holiness isn’t about constant consolation or spiritual fireworks. It’s about staying close to Jesus through service, faithfulness, and trust—even in the absence of feeling.

How to Carry Her Spirit Into Lent

Mother Teresa didn’t ask us to suffer more—she asked us to love more.

This Lent, let your penance lead you to presence:

• Speak gently when you feel irritable

• Feed someone who can’t repay you

• Hold space for grief or loneliness

• Revisit your own family with patience

• Offer your spiritual dryness with trust

Don’t aim to impress God. Aim to reflect Him.

Because for Saint Teresa of Calcutta, holiness was never about drama—it was about love in action.

Final Reflection

If Lent feels complicated, Saint Teresa invites us to return to simplicity:

Love those around you. Trust God in the silence. Let grace into the smallest places of your day.

And when you feel like you’ve failed, remember: Mother Teresa’s holiness wasn’t built on spiritual success—it was built on surrender.

She is the saint of presence, the saint of trust, the saint of showing up.

And she walks with you.

Looking for More?
Mother Teresa lived Catholic social teaching in motion. For a deep dive into those foundations, check out the Encyclopedia of Catholic Social Thought (2-volume set).

Helpful Tool: Keep a small reminder of her courage and tenderness nearby. This Saint Teresa of Calcutta devotional statue is a beautiful, simple way to remember her presence and carry her mission of love into your daily life.

You might also find peace in praying with a Saint Teresa of Calcutta rosary—a tangible way to hold her presence close and meditate on the mysteries she lived so fully.

Want more saint reflections rooted in real life? Follow Converting to Hope or visit our Ko-fi store to support the work.

Saint John Bosco: A Saint For Right Now

Holiness, Hustle, and Loving the World Around You

Saints aren't just ancient history. Every generation raises new saints, whether recognized formally by the Church or known only to God. Holiness is not locked away in some distant past—it walks the streets of every age. In Saint John Bosco, we find a man who speaks powerfully to the modern heart.

He lived in a loud, messy, modern world—and he shows us that holiness isn’t about escaping life. It’s about entering it with love.

The Life and Times of Saint John Bosco

A Child of Humble Beginnings

John Bosco was born in 1815 in a small village near Turin, Italy. Raised in poverty by a widowed mother, he learned resilience, faith, and hard work from an early age. His early life was marked not by ease but by perseverance through hardship—preparing him for a mission he could not yet see.

Responding to a Broken World

As the Industrial Revolution reshaped society, countless young boys were left abandoned, jobless, and hopeless. Factories demanded labor but cared little for the lives shattered in the process. Prisons overflowed with children. The Church struggled to respond.

John Bosco didn’t turn away. He stepped into the chaos.

What Makes John Bosco So Modern?

Leaning Into the Noise

John Bosco didn’t retreat from the noise and brokenness of his time—he leaned into it with open hands and a fierce heart.

He saw potential where others saw problems. He offered hope where others offered judgment. He believed that the solution to the suffering of his world wasn’t condemnation—it was compassionate presence.

Innovating Ministry for a New Age

• The Oratory: Bosco founded the Oratory of Saint Francis de Sales, a new model of ministry that combined work, study, play, and prayer into a single, life-giving community.

• Teaching Trades: Instead of preaching from a distance, he taught practical skills—carpentry, printing, tailoring—that helped young men escape cycles of poverty.

• Building Relationships: He believed deeply that "education is a matter of the heart," and that love, not fear, was the most powerful teacher.

In a performance-obsessed world, John Bosco shows us that simply showing up is itself a kind of holiness.

Not perfection. Not prestige. Presence.

The Spiritual Legacy of Saint John Bosco

A New Vision of Holiness

John Bosco shattered the false division between sacred and secular. He showed that holiness is not found only in monasteries or pulpits, but in workshops, classrooms, and city streets.

Holiness, for Bosco, was gritty. It was loud. It was messy. It smelled like sawdust and sweat. It sang in the laughter of boys who had once been forgotten.

A Faith That Works

• Prayer and Action: Bosco taught that prayer must fuel action, and action must return to prayer. The two are inseparable.

• Joy and Discipline: His famous "preventive system" of education combined loving kindness, reason, and faith—an approach that avoided punishment and cultivated virtue through encouragement.

• Trust in Providence: Despite constant financial struggles and opposition, Bosco trusted utterly in God's provision, moving forward with hope even when resources were scarce.

What We Learn from Him Today

Ordinary Faithfulness Changes Lives

You don't need a monastery or a microphone to be holy. You don't need to escape your real life to follow Christ.

Holiness lives quietly in the ordinary acts of faithfulness:

• Showing up for your neighbor

• Teaching a skill to someone who needs it

• Believing in someone no one else sees

• Refusing to give up when the world shrugs and walks away

This is the way John Bosco lived. And it's the path of holiness open to all of us.

Creativity in Ministry Matters

Bosco reminds us that we are called to meet people where they are—not where we wish they were.

• Are we willing to learn new skills to reach hearts?

• Are we willing to get messy for the sake of love?

• Are we willing to risk looking foolish in order to offer hope?

The Church needs saints who are not afraid to innovate for love's sake.

Saint John Bosco, Pray for Us

A Prayer for Today

Saint John Bosco,

• Pray for us when the world feels too loud.

• Teach us to stay present when escape feels easier.

• Show us how to love with creativity, patience, and joy.

Help us believe that even the smallest acts of love ripple out further than we can see.

Give us your heart for the young, the forgotten, the lost.

Give us your stubborn hope in the face of overwhelming need.

Teach us to love the world like you did: fiercely, tenderly, faithfully.

Saint John Bosco, pray for us.

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