He approached me after my New Testament class, which is a course that he is also taking.
He is Catholic and he goes to BYU-Hawaii, a Mormon school. He is a very happy person. And he follows God with all his heart.
It's interesting some of the things I learned in class today.
I have always known of the bible, since I was a baby. I was taught by wonderful Catholic parents.
We went to church every Sunday, and we would frequent the local Bagel Shop called "Jeepers" right after church. It was a perfect breakfast right after church.
But my church going days started way before then.
My Grandma Pat, is a born and raised Catholic who raised all her children in the Catholic church. I have fond memories of going to Grandma's house to go to early morning church with her. We would go everyday at 6 am! And afterward was always my favorite! (not saying that church wasn't fun, but I was young, and it was early). But everyday, after church there was this thing called "Coffee-Hour". I would never drink the coffee, because at age 6, coffee was pretty gross. BUT! I would always eat the donuts. The circle donuts that tasted so good.
It was always the weirdest thing for me to see Father Tom, who is a Catholic Priest, outside of church, wearing his black Catholic Priest suit. I was used to the white robes. But I felt immensely special knowing that I was the only one out of ALL My friends to see Father Tom outside of church.
Even at a young age, I was very analytical. I distinctly remember always watching him, wondering what he did, how he acted, and when he would go "home" (I thought his home was the church, and that he slept there.) It was fascinating to try and guess all these life details about him, and what he did besides conduct mass everyday. I could have asked, but I found it more interesting to analyze and guess, and I was a bit fearful of the big bellied man who spoke in front of hundreds of people each week.
My point being, is that I knew the gospels of Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John very well. And often at church we would hear all about Paul's letters to the Corinthians or to the Galatians, or the Colossians (which I still have trouble pronouncing).
I would hear these gospels every week. But I had never really analyzed them myself. So, although I was a good-church going Catholic, I wasn't the best Catholic at home, I didn't read the bible, nor did I pray that often alone. But each night, my Mom would sing my favorite Christian song to me until I fell asleep. And that was her prayer for me.
Some may wonder, why I speak about being Catholic, when I am Mormon, and believe 100% in the Mormon beliefs.
The reason I reminisce about my Catholic days, is not because they mislead me, or because they taught false doctrine, or tried to get followers away from God. No, I talk about my Catholic days because of the exact opposite. They helped me have the knowledge of the gospels.(Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John).
By the time I was 6, I was already on my journey, learning and loving God with every step of the way.
I was lead from the beginning, and I won't stop being lead. Because God will never abandon me. He started me off good, on good grounds, with a great foundation of the knowledge of Jesus Christ, my Savior. The more I study, the more I learn. The more I learn, the more I want to learn.
God never wants me to stop learning. He ignited that fire in me during each of those masses I attended, during all the "Coffee-Hours", during the church and then Jeepers breakfast, and the prayers and guidance of a loving Catholic family who has wanted only the best for me.
I am grateful for my childhood. I am grateful for my upbringing. God has a plan, and I know that he made no mistake when I was born to my parents, with my sisters, to my grandparents, and aunts and uncles. We are all a family for a reason, and I truly believe it.
(17 May, 2013. Me and Grandma Pat at Pybus Market)
I love my family,
With love,
-Libbie Poirier
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