a.d. elliott - Take the Back Roads

Dear Henry, Has anyone ever asked you, "when you heard the call?"  I've been contemplating this question lately. I seriously approached the Big G and the church on an Ash Wednesday, so every Ash Wednesday has been very nostalgic since then. When I get that question,  I generally refer people to my posts " Taking the Back Road to Rome " and " Finding God In Gomorrah " to explain how and why I found God and converted to Catholicism. Recently, though, someone realized I was holding back part of the story and asked, "That's it? But what made you actually decide to walk through the door?" Sigh. Why I chose that day to walk into Mass is a sad story. And because so many of my stories are sad, I don't like to tell them. I feel like a croaking little raven whenever I talk about my life. Plus, there is a weird backstory as well. The story starts back on my parent's wedding day. As I've mentioned, my parents were raised in a restoration

Dear Henry, When I first moved to Roanoke, I'll admit, I cried.  Not because of the area  - The Blue Ridge Mountains are beautiful, and the Roanoke area has a lot to offer. It really is a great place to live. But, I struggled with the house we had to live in. We rented it online, from Oklahoma, sight unseen, with no other choices, and I really wish there had been another option. We arrived at a small, mean, poorly maintained home in a bad neighborhood. It reminded me so much of the small, mean houses in crime-ridden neighborhoods where I spent my younger years.   And we had a year-long lease. The situation was disappointing because so much of this move seemed to be part of a divine plan, and I was sure everything was going to be "perfect." It wasn't. The condition of the house and the neighborhood it was in was a soul-sucking and crushing blow at the end of a 3-day drive. I found myself (again) asking God if He was being serious and reminding Him (again) that it was s