Raised in A.A., my first church. Attended meetings with my mom until I was old enough to stay home alone, age eleven or so. Theology: the Our Father, the Serenity Prayer, the Original Sin of “powerless over alcohol” (Step 1), “my Higher Power” (Step 2), the bumper-sticker “Let Go and Let God” (Step 3), the sacrament of reconciliation for drunks (Steps 4-11),  evangelism (Step 12).

The idols of my young adulthood: existentialism, Buddhism, Taoism, American Indian sweat lodge, Victorian Spiritualism, radical leftism, fruitless sexuality, booze, hard pavement, The Almighty Written Word, the spoken word, looking cool, acting tough, post-modernism, freneticism, Rousseauian psychoses, and whatever Christian doctrine managed to stick to my clothes as it wafted past me in my cultural wandering.

Age 33, I had a miraculous spiritual awakening alone in my bedroom and went out and proclaimed myself a Christian even though I didn’t profess the Resurrection or go to any church. I started this blog.

I shopped around for a church. I tried a non-denominational church. Transportation issues. I tried another, local, non-denominational church. Personal differences.

I enrolled in RCIA, Rite of Christian Initiation for Adults, at a large urban cathedral. This culminated in my baptism and confirmation at age 35 on Holy Saturday, for which I am wholly grateful. I’m in.

An RCIA sponsor gave me hardcover copies of The Didache Bible and Catechism of the Catholic Church. To this day, I read them and sleep with them. I listen. I fight, within myself and without, to apprehend the truth. I dispense with the primacy of feelings and pursue sound Biblical exegesis. I strive towards God.