The place: my heart. The time: only a few years ago. The reason: life.
Life is tough, and it’s full of both joy and suffering. I reached a point where life looked pretty hopeless. Oh, I wasn’t going to kill myself. But there was a lot of pain — not because I had been abused, or traumatized, or even ill. I experienced the pain of life. I experienced the pain that my sin sowed into my very being.
In my mid-twenties, I met a young man who would lead me, quietly and with no persuasion, to the Catholic Church. I knew, somehow, that he was the man I would marry. I knew that if I was going to give in and actually get married, even though I considered it an outdated institution, it was going to be with this guy. He was different, and in being different, he was right.