Baptist Convert

Stacy Trasancos

Stacy is a Catholic convert from the Baptist tradition. A former chemist, Stacy is now a stay at home mom pursuing a MA in Theology at Holy Apostle's College and Seminary.

I am Catholic, simply, because I am alive. I began conversion in 2004 and entered into Communion with the Catholic Church in 2006. That I know of, I have a full decade of children to remember when I pray the Rosary, seven whom I am raising and three whom I never held in my arms. My life these 42 years has been full of self-induced pain. Today I know deep joy and peace because I am accepting the abundances of Truth and Love. I'm telling my story because as shameful as it is, it is real and needs to be told so others will know the dangers of life without a moral compass.

I grew up as the oldest of three in Texas with a loving family and wonderful parents. Some people say that babies are born atheists because they can't believe in God, but my first memories were naturally of God, of being awed by the world and my ability to do new things, and of loving my family with all my heart. I spent a lot of time outdoors and on my paternal grandparents' farm with their young daughter who was like a big sister to me. There was never any doubt that I was loved and that I could make people happy. Those are my first memories.

I was a naturally shy child. The first time I remember fear is not from a dangerous or physically painful situation, but at my second birthday party surrounded by so many people. I didn't know what they expected of me, and I remember hiding in my room with my maternal grandmother. She is the one who later taught me to read my Bible daily and write down my prayers. I still have them because my mother saved them for me.

My shyness made me anxious in grade school, and I was medically treated for it in Kindergarten. I didn't understand people. I liked being alone but I wanted to please others too, and to do the right thing. I often felt misunderstood. When my overzealous hand came down from my heart after the Pledge of Allegiance in Kindergarten and broke a leaf on a nearby plant, I was shamed in front of others. When I accidentally fell on a slide I was spanked for bad behavior. When I was told not to talk on the bus, I was ridiculed by other kids for very literally obeying.

There was an undercurrent of racism where I grew up in the 1970's, and I do not ever remember hearing of the Catholic Church as a young child. There is so much I did not understand. I remember a single mother who brought her mixed-race child to our Baptist church one Sunday. She sat in the back and during the invitation when the preacher called for anyone to come forward who wanted to be "saved," she held her daughter's hand and walked down the aisle in humility before the small congregation.

She requested membership in the church and, as was customary, the congregation voted with a verbal "Aye" or "Nay." People were of course always voted in with lots of affirmative votes, and I never heard that last word used even once, until that day. The same people who taught me to follow the Bible and to "Love thy neighbor as thyself" rejected and humiliated a woman who was broken.

I remember watching the mother leave with her daughter, in tears, and wanting to run after them, to leave that church and never go back, to scream that it was all so wrong. My parents, kind and loving people, hated it too but no one knew what to do. I was a child and I didn't know what to do. Thus began my doubting of religion. That is not the God I read about in the Bible. It seemed that everywhere there was hypocrisy and contradiction.

The Baptists taught me to follow the Bible, but they condemned drinking alcohol and dancing –however gymnastics were applauded and being asked to prom was a high honor. Alcohol was so forbidden that we wondered if cooking with it was sinful. I was told that sex outside of marriage was wrong, but beautiful people on TV disobeyed that rule religiously. People gossiped and I was constantly worried about what others were saying. Sunday seemed to be more about wearing the right dress and worrying about who was going to perform what song. It seemed all a performance.

Over the years I learned to perform well, as that seemed to be when people were most loved. I, like all children, wanted to be loved. I was in beauty pageants, and I was so loved. I won talent shows, dancing and doing gymnastics, and I was so loved. I was a cheerleader, and I was loved. I became a feature twirler, and I was loved. I learned to play the piano and the violin and the clarinet and every time I was on stage, I was so loved. I was addicted to that feeling and I excelled at whatever I did that would put me on a stage – so I could feel loved.

I know now that God gives us the desire to be loved so we will seek Him. If we seek love without seeking God we will be desperate because that desire will never be satisfied. Performing was stressful because I was shy, but the love I felt when I was on stage was wonderful so I kept performing. I learned to tell people what they wanted to hear and to behave as people wanted me to behave. God gives us the desire to learn so we will know Him and know ourselves, but without seeking Him that love of learning turns to sinful pride.

In this confusion, anxiety, and stress I formed private compulsive behaviors in my early teens, my secret physical pains. I pulled out my eyelashes and eyebrows and bit my nails until they bled. The compulsion caused me to feel ugly and ashamed, and that made me more stressed and anxious. To perform well I had to be pretty and without eyelashes, eyebrows or fingernails I thought I was very ugly and doomed to be unloved. I grew angry and more confused.

In my first year of college I began drinking and partying sorority-style because I got attention when I did. I remained alcohol-free and chaste until college but when I was surrounded by popular people living promiscuously I conformed, and performed, so I could feel loved. I knew it was wrong, but I wanted to feel loved.

By the summer of that first year I found out I was pregnant before my worried mother could take me to the doctor for birth control. "Don't have sex, but let's get birth control just in case you do." I don't fault her for that; it was the message of our culture. Birth control was the responsible thing to use if you weren't going to be responsible in the first place. Like I said, contradictions abounded.

I loved my parents and I knew I disappointed them, and I loved my baby so I vowed to be a good mother and to finish college in spite of "screwing up." The leather wedding dress I insisted on might have been a clue to someone that I was indeed harboring some serious anger.

In 1991 when I found myself divorced and rejected by an unfaithful man, I took the popular advice of the rock group R.E.M. and "lost my religion." Finally something made sense. After trying so hard to please people and failing, it felt like freedom to let it go. So what if I was a divorced single mother at the age of 22? Wasn't I living just like the soap opera, sit-com and movie stars? All around me the sophisticated and pretty people were the ones free of religion and the complication of "marriage." Just me and my baby out to conquer the world.

"Oh, life is bigger. It's bigger than you, and you are not me. The lengths that I will go to..."

I finished school in record time and taught high school for two years. It was during those days that I discovered Ayn Rand and wanted to be like her, to climb higher and excel as an academic. Eventually I decided to go back to school for a Ph.D. in Chemistry. What success! I appeared to be a pretty and modern single mother who hadn't let the world stop her, who had survived in a man's world. Alone I was terrified because I couldn't control the hair pulling and self-injury and I felt worthless. The pain felt good.

I was a horrible mother and I knew it. I didn't have any time to raise my little daughter, but I couldn't even entertain the idea of giving up my career. Rand-style-rugged-individualism meant I had to show the world, and my daughter, that I could make it. "That's what women should do, and they should do it without men." The weird thing is, I obsessively had to have a boyfriend, one right after the other, because I had to perform to feel loved. The relationships never lasted and I still remember the look of sadness on my daughter's face as I ignored her day after day after day. I was too busy chasing an appearance so I could feel loved when real love was staring at me every day through two big hazel eyes.

"The distance in your eyes..."

I grew angrier but suppressed it, more dependent on the approval of others and addicted to the appearance of success. I met people in Dallas and became involved in the dark world of cocktails and "sexual freedom," ecstasy and cocaine, image and "everybody's somebody" attitude – the extreme and fabulous Dallas night life. I thought this was how to be really free. In a few months' time a man proposed and agreed to move to Pennsylvania with me as I began graduate school in 1994. I became pregnant the week he arrived and gave birth in my first year. He stayed home with the baby and he tried to do the right thing, but I belittled him as if I were the only one in the new family that mattered. Nothing mattered more than my career, my craving for attention.

From time to time I wanted to revisit religion again. I tried a Unitarian church, but why bother? You may as well stay in bed and just say a quick prayer. I was "married" by an Indian medicine man on a cliff, ironically a legendary place of suicide for failing college students. As the medicine man chanted and I finished my vows (which I made up at the last minute) two black crows flew up in a gust of wind, like a dark warning. The whole thing was ominous. I wondered what commitment I really had just made.

"Oh no, I've said too much. I set it up..."

While I was pregnant he took me to lunch one day and I remember thinking maybe we would be happy. Then, two college girls walked by and the skirt of one of them blew up. Rather than pretend not to see it, he was giddy about her red underwear. Maybe that should be harmless enough - even on television men do that and wives laugh along good-naturedly - but on that day, in that moment, it cut so deeply and severed a thread of sanity. If someone out-performed me, I feared I would not be loved. In jealous revenge, that was when I set out to make him never look at another woman again, to be his superstar, and then to ruin him...oddly, for love.

I did not leave this newly found party life behind even as a graduate student and mother. I did, however, leave my two children behind often with babysitters, anyone I could find to watch them, so I could go out at night. I managed to do well by day in classes and in the laboratory; I managed to do my part to get my children to school and keep them fed and clothed, but I was becoming dangerously detached. My ego thrived on attention, and I became brilliant at getting it, at being noticed, at being the life of any party, but the nights ended in the wee hours of the morning, often in a dark closet or a bathroom crying in the corner like a deranged child afraid of her own shadow. I did love my baby boy and I loved my little girl, but there were so many contradictions, so much confusion.

"That's me in the corner. That's me in the spotlight. I'm losing my religion, trying to keep up with you. And I don't know if I can do it..."

I discovered strip clubs, and was instantly jealous. Few would believe that a mother of two, a supposedly intelligent woman who had it all, used a stage name and took money for dancing while attending graduate school. The stage was where I was loved, and at least a bare body with fake eyelashes and fake fingernails could perform in the dark and pretend to be loved while a terrified spirit retreated further from reality. It wasn't enough. I began to experiment sexually outside the relationship, I spiraled further, every day losing more of myself and living a lie, every day raping myself. The anger was uncontrollable and the hair-pulling and self-injury turned to self-hatred, self-battery and self-destruction. I knew what I was doing was wrong, but no one seemed to care. My hateful façade was impenetrable and everyone thought I was so free. Even the unreligious professors who found out about my double life hailed me as the "new paradigm."

"Consider this, the hint of the century. Consider this, the slip that brought me to my knees failed. What if all these fantasies come flailing around..."

Not once did I ever stop believing in God. I stopped believing in religion. If that single woman with a mixed-race child was rejected, why should I even try? It was later in Virginia, where I got my first job, that the "marriage" ended after six years of unmentionable tragedy, after I found myself alone and hated, after a cloud of close calls and substance overdose, after missing the childhood of my children, after realizing my career was only that, after getting the shame I deserved in my community, after alienating my parents, after hurting so many people, after realizing I had nothing to offer the world...that I just one time called out to God. "Please God let me remember what it's like to be a baby again."

Like an infant learning to walk I tried to take new steps but fell often with nothing to guide me. Sometimes I clawed my way back up, but I had nothing to hang onto. As the random story goes, I found myself one day in North Carolina on a business trip. A man from Missouri passed me in the hallway and in the morning sunshine he looked me straight in the eyes and said, "Good morning." That moment stands out, and even though the demons in me raged for years to come, I look back and know without a doubt that that was the answer to my prayer. I felt hope in that moment for the first time in my adult life and God was mercifully leading me home.

"Every whisper. Of every waking hour I'm choosing my confessions."

He said he was a Catholic man, but I refused a Catholic wedding because they wanted me to wait a year. We were married quickly in a chapel. We both loved numbers so we married on 01/02/03, the only three consecutive prime numbers whose sum and product equal the same thing. I learned two weeks later that I was ten weeks pregnant.

This was my third (civil) marriage and my third time as a pregnant bride. I didn't understand marriage, love or commitment, and all I knew was that I couldn't survive this man rejecting me too so I panicked. My fits of rage and self-battery became torment. Fear became a prison and I just wanted it to end. When my aunt, my "big sister" of my childhood on my grandparents' farm, committed suicide that year because she found herself facing divorce and living alone, I knew exactly why she did it. Yet, I was spared.

With my husband's help and love, I took on those demons. I have been hospitalized for suicidal thoughts and spent years in therapy. I have heard the internal screams, the wailing and gnashing of teeth that is hell. I have beaten and burned my body in gross and ugly ways to shut them out, and they have only laughed. They are real, and physical pain is at least a pain with limits. The harder I tried to do good, the more fearful I became because I knew I did not deserve anything good. Instead of loving my committed husband back, I only tried to hurt him before he could hurt me. One day, amidst all that confusion, my husband asked me in a moment of clarity to answer one single, critical question. "Stacy, how do you define success?"

"I thought that I heard you laughing. I thought that I heard you sing. I think I thought I saw you try...."

That was the light that reached my cowered soul. For the first time since childhood I thought about what I wanted, not what I thought others wanted me to want. I kept thinking about dolls. How I once loved dolls! I once wanted to be my mother so badly. I left my job when our daughter was born and began homeschooling my older two children who had never really had a mother present. I taught them all I could. They were already hurt and I had a lot to make up to them, but I had the day and I had the chance and so I took it. I learned that each day is a gift. When I wanted to know more about my husband's Roman Catholic faith, he suggested I enroll in an RCIA program and he went to every class with me. I thought I would struggle mightily with the idea of Transubstantiation but I did not. It was an instinctive grasp of the simplest and deepest reality. I learned to believe. I learned about living with purpose and being open to life. By grace our family grew and we had four daughters in the first four years, even as I was still confronting my demons. We made it through because we clung to the Sacraments. These children have always had a mother present no matter what.

It has not been easy and the past still haunts me, but it also drives me. My penance is my daily prayer that my life will shine light where there is darkness. I don't want any little girl to ever suffer from confusion and anxiety the way I did. I know what Marriage is now and I have found the One True Religion. I said in the beginning that I have at least a decade of children. I used birth control for many years and there may be children I never knew existed. We sadly lost two in miscarriage in 2010 and then were blessed with a baby boy.

And there's one who briefly lived in a time and place on a college campus in Texas where single mothers who have lost their religion could make a terrible but legal choice to try to forget all about life and head to graduate school. I killed my own child by paying for an abortion – a suicide unto itself – just before I met a man in Dallas and begged him to show me freedom. Children are created to love their mother and mothers are created to love their children. I do love that child and I don't forget. I never will. Not a day passes that I don't mourn that loss and although I can't undo that terrible action, I can live to stop the lies that led to it. That's what a redeemed mother does.

I'm blessed eternally with children, and I live for them all now by living for God who created, knows and loves us all. Across the world, and right in front of me, there are lost and broken people, broken families and broken communities. Children need to be taught the Truth, without compromise, so that as they grow up they will know right from wrong, and that they are loved unconditionally by their Creator.

For the two years it took to finally finish RCIA, I went to daily Mass without receiving Communion just to be in the presence of the Truth and Love I so desperately sought all my life. The Church does not ask me to perform. She asks me to serve, to love, to be loved, to know and to be known for the Kingdom of Heaven. I am not worthy, but I know that the Lord only has to say the Word and I am healed.

When I finally stepped forward and uncrossed my arms from my heart to receive the Body and Blood of Christ, a broken and lost woman became a healed and whole daughter welcomed into the community of faith. Somewhere there is a dark-skinned woman about my age whose single mother was rejected from religion while I watched and I pray that they both found their way home too.

We celebrated the Sacrament of Marriage the same day as my First Communion and we were instructed to select scripture. Inspired by it during a Mass, we chose Isaiah 61:10, "I rejoice heartily in the LORD, in my God is the joy of my soul; For he has clothed me with a robe of salvation, and wrapped me in a mantle of justice, Like a bridegroom adorned with a diadem, like a bride bedecked with her jewels." When the demons of my past try to cower or taunt me now, to stop me from telling the truth, to tell me to be afraid, I make one gigantic sign of the cross over my body and raise my hands Heavenward, and then I let that robe and that mantle clothe me in protection. There's work to be done for the Kingdom of Heaven.

After our Sacrament of Marriage, a friend of my husband's randomly gave him a daily devotional book as a gift. It seemed remarkable because my husband had also just purchased a copy of the same book a few days earlier to give to me as a gift. For no apparent reason we both had a copy of the same book, seemingly random gifts of kindness. Weeks later he called me at home on the date of our original wedding anniversary – January 2nd, the day we had selected to begin our life together four years earlier 01/02/03 - and told me in tears to look at the scripture for that day.

It was Isaiah 61:10. God was telling us, "I am here, I was then and I always am." I know this family will survive. I know I will survive. By grace and because I am loved, I am a child of God, a wife to my husband and a mother to my children. All of them. And that is the truth of my life, and why I'm Catholic.

To read more about what a scientist turned homemaker and joyful convert to Catholicism is learning about faith, reason, order, infinity and life please follow her blog "Accepting Abundance".

If you have found this story helpful in your spiritual journey we hope you will consider sharing it. Have feedback or would like to share your story? Email us at  This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it.

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40 comments

  • Comment Link Nicole Tuesday, 21 June 2011 11:49 posted by Nicole

    What a story. Beautifully woven. God bless you, sister in Christ!

  • Comment Link Ricks Tuesday, 21 June 2011 16:45 posted by Ricks

    Thanks God!

  • Comment Link Mike Tuesday, 21 June 2011 21:08 posted by Mike

    Thank you for sharing your wonderful story! Deo Gratias for all the graces in your life.

  • Comment Link Mark Wednesday, 22 June 2011 05:04 posted by Mark

    Beautiful! Imagine, the whole of Heaven rejoicing your return home.

  • Comment Link Jim Mazzarelli Wednesday, 22 June 2011 14:40 posted by Jim Mazzarelli

    Thank you, Stacy, for sharing your witness, a beautiful story of redemption. May God bless and keep you and your family.

  • Comment Link Stacy Wednesday, 22 June 2011 15:31 posted by Stacy

    Thank you all for your kind comments.

    In the Joy and Peace of Christ,
    Stacy

  • Comment Link WI Catholic Wednesday, 22 June 2011 17:22 posted by WI Catholic

    Wonderful story, and I love how God Himself has shown you and others how He IS there when we say our vows, whether we admit it or not (and two Baptized people are also in a Sacramental marriage, even though they may not know what it is at that time). Welcome Home!

  • Comment Link JoAnn Wednesday, 22 June 2011 17:29 posted by JoAnn

    Absolutely beautiful. Thank you for sharing. In tears, reading your journey. God bless.

  • Comment Link Marie Thursday, 23 June 2011 03:55 posted by Marie

    wow. This is our faith. This is why we believe, because the Lord can reach anyone, anywhere. Thank you for sharing your story!

  • Comment Link jojo Thursday, 23 June 2011 11:09 posted by jojo

    thank you for sharing this to us! it surely inspired me more of my Catholic faith. Indeed, God loves you so much that He guided you to His Home.. the Catholic Church!!

  • Comment Link Chuck Thursday, 23 June 2011 13:11 posted by Chuck

    Stacy, from a Catholic gentleman in Missouri (who moved here from Texas) I salute and pray for you. Thank you for this wonderful story that made a grown man cry. I have unfortunately been to many of the dark places that you have been, being a child of the 60's, and I believe God watched us do these things to ourselves for a reason and that is to love and to serve him without question. God bless you. In his service.

  • Comment Link Laura M Friday, 24 June 2011 04:51 posted by Laura M

    Welcome home sister :)

  • Comment Link Dexter Friday, 24 June 2011 17:34 posted by Dexter

    Truly Inspirational. I really like your incorporation of REM's "Losing My Religion" song in your write-up. Sometimes I feel the same way. I am a Catholic in a dominantly Catholic Country, but my wife is BORN AGAIN, so there is difficulty in raising the Children. I just kept praying that one day, like you, they would see the light. I have to admit I too would not be considered as a good Catholic Christian Role Model since I still have demons of my own.

    I am glad I read your story. It brings a message of hope and solid faith to our Lord. Welcome to the Catholic family my sister-in-Christ.

  • Comment Link Angela Santana Saturday, 25 June 2011 05:42 posted by Angela Santana

    Stacy,
    Thank you so much for sharing each terrible detail of your pain. It brings so much more glory to our great God. My future husband and I are committed to raising children in a household where they learn the real meaning of love, and your story gives so much insight. Our future children will benefit from my having read your story - and I will certainly pass it on to my fiance.
    God is so good!

  • Comment Link jun v Monday, 27 June 2011 04:54 posted by jun v

    Wonderful and meaningful story and journeying with God. Let's pray for one another, our Church and for all the people of God! God bless you always!

  • Comment Link todd Saturday, 02 July 2011 04:57 posted by todd

    Always good to see a fellow Baptist find their way home to the Catholic Church - and, strange to say, I had a similar experience with the R.E.M. song "Losing my Religion", I was already tettering in my Baptist faith, leaning more toward doubt - that song helped pushed me on out - although the song really has nothing to do with religion, I realized later

    - anyways, welcome home!

    I hope to make my story from my blog concise enough to be posted here -

    by the way, you have a beautiful family!

  • Comment Link George @ Convert Journal Saturday, 02 July 2011 16:45 posted by George @ Convert Journal

    A truly beautiful story Stacy. For God, all things are possible!

  • Comment Link Manny Sunday, 03 July 2011 04:04 posted by Manny

    What a well written testimony. Thanks for sharing. It was captivating.

  • Comment Link Caoimhin Saturday, 16 July 2011 23:02 posted by Caoimhin

    ".....my daily prayer that my life will shine light where there is darkness."....

    Well done Stacey. Listening to your story reminds me of something of my own. The one thing you did not seem to lose was faith itself, and it's faith that makes us well.

    http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9m5GIXfPjIs

    God bless you and your husband and children.

  • Comment Link Bernard Monday, 22 August 2011 14:48 posted by Bernard

    I want to congratulate the "Free Press" for using your weekly writings.and especially August 19 "Its the relationship"-- It caused me (88yrs) to look you up and be edified by your above humbly revealings

    . -Praise God!. and please continue your column . We need it.

  • Comment Link Richard Thursday, 25 August 2011 13:18 posted by Richard

    A remarkable and straightforward testimony. What courage it must take to face one's impulses and the emotional toll acting on those impulses had on yourself and others.

  • Comment Link martine Sunday, 11 September 2011 20:26 posted by martine

    You story is of much courage, inspiration and of course all the sadness you went through, I think you would not be the compassionate and loving person you are today without what has happened in your life. I wish you much happiness and you are an inspiration to all especially to converts..God Bless you and let our Mother in Heaven guide you.
    Martine.

  • Comment Link GADEL Saturday, 24 September 2011 13:53 posted by GADEL

    Excellent!

  • Comment Link Fr Shane Johnson, LC Monday, 26 September 2011 12:20 posted by Fr Shane Johnson, LC

    Stacy, thanks so much for sharing your story! I told it yesterday in my homily at Sunday Mass in the Bronx as an example of those who said "No" at first (or, better yet, didn't even know what the question was) and then found the greatest possible joy in saying "Yes" to the God who had been saying "Yes" to them the whole time and inviting them to echo his.

    God's continued blessings on you and your family!

  • Comment Link Rainier Castillo Tuesday, 15 May 2012 00:49 posted by Rainier Castillo

    wow! i read this and cried, and i am still in tears. i am very happy for you. may our Lord Jesus Christ, through His ever loving and caring Mother, bless you and guide you, and your family. AMEN.

  • Comment Link Melinda Tuesday, 15 May 2012 21:06 posted by Melinda

    Thank you for sharing your story. I'm a convert to Catholicism too and find your experiences profoundly moving.

  • Comment Link Patrick Sunday, 10 June 2012 05:10 posted by Patrick

    Stacy,

    Thank you for your courage, your story, your journey, your sharing. May our most loving God continue to bless you and your beautiful family. My His Mother - our Mother - wrap you in her mantle and guide you in your motherhood and on your journey to heaven. Please know that your witness has served all of the rest of us so well. Gotta love this Communion of Saints! To God be the glory, the praise and the honor ...forever!

    Viva Cristo Rey!

  • Comment Link T. Monday, 11 June 2012 08:09 posted by T.

    You know, those stories of women converting to the Catholic Faith would be a lot more convincing if said women weren't, for the 90% "former" something and "current" mothers.
    IE: if Catholicism said that women could do something else from their life than popping up kids.

    God could have saved himself trouble if he had given brains just to men, for how much He wants us to use it

    *shakes her head*

    Well, be happy sister :)
    Hopes you are, and best wishes.

  • Comment Link shawna b Saturday, 16 June 2012 22:08 posted by shawna b

    wow.

    God has shown you immense favor.

  • Comment Link Misty Sunday, 17 June 2012 17:47 posted by Misty

    I cried and cried reading this. God is so amazing, to have pursued a lost and broken soul like you until you surrendered to His love. My heart rejoices, dear sister, that you have come home and found healing through the Divine Physician for those deep, painful wounds. Your story is a beacon of light and hope to anyone who has ever drifted away from God and punished themselves through sin for doing so. Thank you so much for one of the most beautiful and candid conversion stories I've ever read.

  • Comment Link Dawn Sunday, 17 June 2012 17:56 posted by Dawn

    This is for T, who said how unfortunate it is that women who convert to Catholicism are "former" something and "currently" mothers. Your comment reveals a profound ignorance of what it means to be a Catholic woman. The reason so many of us say we're "former" editors/chemists/businesswomen and now "currently" mothers doesn't mean that we are ONLY mothers, just that our priorities have shifted. We no longer define ourselves primarily by external indicators of success, but by relationships. And arguably the most meaningful relationship we have is with our children, who are the direct means by which God turns us from selfish creatures into loving ones. You mistakenly assume that a woman who identifies as a Catholic mother can't do anything else but mother, whereas most women I know are mothers but also writers, small business owners, actresses, etc. The real problem you seem to have is that we don't put what we DO before who we ARE--mothers. As Stacy articulated so beautifully in her article, that's the sure way to lose your way as a person, to have your identity rooted in anything other than those loving relationships with God and others.

  • Comment Link R Monday, 25 June 2012 22:20 posted by R

    Stacy's story is wonderful, because she suffered a lot and now is finally getting peace. This is so wonderful that I'm writing this almost in tears.
    However, I'd like to make a somewhat intrusive comment. Forgive me because I've no intention of being rude, just making a point: Stacy's was pregnant when she married for the third time. But she married a catholic man.
    As catholics, we've been told and taught that waiting for marriage and being chaste is the ideal.
    But by Stacy's story, we can see: it is very hard to find catholic men being in abstinence.
    The majority of men, catholic men included, don't follow that abstinence rule. It's just after(see my point, after) marriage that catholic men seem to live a life of chastity. Chastity in marriage, but no before marriage.
    It seems we're all sunk in our contemporary sexualized society...

  • Comment Link R Monday, 25 June 2012 22:32 posted by R

    And now a silly comment: Tim Tebow, you're one of a kind!
    LoLo Jones: you're truly unique!
    Congrats, guys! So hard to stand like you do! Like Stacy did by telling us her story!

  • Comment Link Elvia Tuesday, 11 September 2012 19:02 posted by Elvia

    Blessings to you, your family and all readers. Thanks for sharing your story with us, God says "the truth will set you free" and I can see the miracles that happened in your life. You reminded me something very important, that as kids the most important thing is to be loved, and loved like God does unconditionally. I believe when love is conditional, then we turn to other ways to get it and making mistakes is so easy. Let's keep this in mind when loving our kids. By the way, I loved how you used the R.E.M song to tell you story. :-)

  • Comment Link Jon Juergensen Sunday, 02 December 2012 03:33 posted by Jon Juergensen

    Wow. I'll have to reread this.

  • Comment Link Domingo Tuesday, 04 December 2012 03:12 posted by Domingo

    I read this over dinner before my 2 teenaged daughters. Thank you, Stacy, and I praise God for giving you the courage to tell your story. God is glorified in your story. Like the hound of heaven He followed you all your life. Your belief in God is a gift, and when you finally realized It was He you were desperately looking for all your life, then your love story wth Him began. But His love for you began a long time ago, even before you were born.

    Indeed, how great is our God!

  • Comment Link Catholic Grammie Wednesday, 02 January 2013 10:16 posted by Catholic Grammie

    Stacy,
    Thank you so much for sharing your story! That took so much courage and I'm so glad that you found your way home - you are such an inspiration! take care and God bless!

  • Comment Link Sophie Tuesday, 15 January 2013 19:28 posted by Sophie

    I don't know how we became "friends" on FB but I always enjoyed your sharing of posts every now and then. I have never seen your testimony and today I was drawn to the 3 videos on Archbishop Fulton Sheen about Angels. I have just been contemplating about my guardian angel yesterday and thought that our Lord has used your page to confirm the message that I should be more devoted on my angel. Then I surf through your website and was led to the FB photos and to the link on your conversion story. I never read it before. I just want to thank you for sharing bec you have uplifted me in the most difficult moment of my life now. Thank you for sharing that God never abandons His children. I am passing your story along to 2 people now whom I know is struggling in their lives.

    God bless you and your family.

  • Comment Link Ed Tuesday, 17 December 2013 17:06 posted by Ed

    Dear Stacy,
    I just finished reading the book "Melissa:A Father's Lesson from a Daughter's Suicide" written by Southern Baptist Frank Page. It's about the suicide of his daughter Melissa on November 27, 2009, the day after Thanksgiving. She rebelled against the codex of her Baptist upbringing with an out of wedlock pregnancy, drinking, etc. coupled with the sad downward spiral of mental illness.You might find this difficult and emotional book interesting.

  • Comment Link John D. Blomquist Sunday, 30 March 2014 03:57 posted by John D. Blomquist

    Thank you for this, Stacy.

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