I grew up in a small town in the Upper Peninsula. My parents were born and raised Catholic, but both of them actually came back to the Church within my lifetime — my mom a lot earlier than me. I was one or two when she came back, maybe even younger. She taught faith formation at the church and stuff like that. Growing up, I had a really deep love for the Lord, especially at the Mass. I remember during the Our Father, we as a family always raised our hands. And whenever I was at the end of the pew, holding my hand out I thought, “Oh, God's going to grab me and lift me up to heaven!” and stuff like that. So when I was very little, I just had those beautiful moments with the Lord that I cherish. 

I was confirmed in the fourth grade and during Confirmation, you know, a lot of kids kind of went through the motions. Their parents or grandparents told them to go to get confirmed, but I was still in this phase of my life where I was really in love with God. I had this very childlike faith, but was surrounded by a bunch of people who really didn't. 

I was made fun of at my Confirmation, and then at school, for being the “church kid.” That led me to have a sort of internal falling out with the Lord. I was kind of resentful towards Him. You know, I thought, “I'm loving you, Lord. What are you doing for me?” I couldn't comprehend why, if I'm being a good person, if I'm loving God, then why would God allow these hardships to happen in my life? There were a couple other things that happened in my life that really got me down, including losing a great grandmother I was very close to.

That question always came up: “Why — when I'm being so good, I'm trying to be the best person I can be — are all of these bad things happening?” Then I ended up getting involved with kind of like a bad crowd in school. They proclaimed themselves to be atheists and I was at a time in my life where I thought if you're going to be good to me, I'll be good to you. And that was even my relationship with God, too. Like my atheist friends, I was starting to question, “What is this all about? What is there really?” And I was coming to the conclusion that there isn't really that much meaning in the world. All of these bad things happen and what's the point of all of it?

That's where I was in middle school and through all of this, my mom was bringing me to church, we were still going to Sunday Mass every week, and she made me go to youth group in seventh and eighth grade. So I would go and it was just kind of this internal battle for me, asking “Why am I here when I don't even know if I believe this type of thing?” And that question kept on stirring. I noticed that I started becoming more and more down as I questioned the meaning of the world. 

I would say there was a sadness, or maybe even a depressive way of thinking, partially because I didn't know if I fit in. I wanted to believe in God. I wanted to believe that all of that was good. But the only good people I was encountering were people who said there is no God. 

At that time, I was offered the opportunity to go to a Steubenville retreat right before starting high school. I tell people that this was my last chance. I told God at that moment, “You have to show me who you are or I'm done.” That was my prayer right before going in. I guess that first day of the retreat was peaceful, but I just really didn't know what I was getting myself into. They had adoration and everything, but I was just confused at that point. But I still had that prayer in my heart: “God, this is your chance to do something.” 

And then that Saturday night, they had adoration again, and it was…it was completely different. The second the priest came in with Jesus in the monstrance, I knew I was loved from the core of my heart. It changed me forever. I had been going through all of this questioning, “Who am I? Why do I feel so down? Why are bad things happening? Who are you, Lord? Why can’t you just take care of it?” And all I needed was His presence. That's what came to me that night. He desired to see me. Seeing and feeling our Lord walk into the room in the Eucharist, it was almost like walking into one room where it's all one way and then stepping into a completely opposite room. When He stepped into that room, He was there for me and He loved me. That's where everything changed for me. I felt like He said, “I love you,” and I felt it to the very core of my being.