This is a guest post by Joe Durepos.
I’m the oldest child, and my parents decided that despite their frayed relationships with God and the Church, they wanted their son raised a Catholic, as they had been.
My mom began taking me to Mass and registered me for CCD as soon as I was old enough. She read me stories about the saints, taught me about Jesus, helped me memorize my prayers, and—perhaps without really believing it about herself—taught me that God loved me.
In taking me to Mass, she eventually came back into her own faith. My growing faith touched something in her. She eventually returned to the Church. Along the way, she became a catechist, an RCIA volunteer, a lay Eucharistic minister, a lector, an adult faith formation instructor, and even a certified spiritual director.
When I ask her about it all now, she gets a little misty-eyed and tells me that when she looks back over her life, she realizes all her greatest blessings came when she was trying to help others—and so much of that started when she walked me into that church as a kid.
Joseph Durepos is an editor at Loyola Press and author of A Still More Excellent Way. The picture is of Joe and his mom.