First Name: Karla
Last Name: Wilkinson
Your Story: Every week it seems like I see so many Catholics who are lukewarm and don't know or want to know their faith. Catholics are freely given every gift the Lord intended for us on this earth. Tragically, for many reasons, we don't know how blessed we truly are to be Catholic. We trade the blessing in for a lifestyle that seems more reasonable or that fits in with the times. Lukewarmness is a sad reality in this country. It is a reality I never gave much thought to until tragedy and God's grace came into my life.
I may sound very judgmental towards lukewarm Catholics, but I know all about being one because I, Karla Wilkinson, was one for most of my adult life. As a lukewarm Catholic I married Paul, a lukewarm Protestant over ten years ago. We were a "good" couple who cared about others, loved our family and wanted God in our marriage, but we had no clue that embracing the fullness of Christianity was the way to go. Yet, God gave us eyes to see and hearts that would one day long for the fullness of the faith.
In 1996 we lost our son, Aaron when he was three months old. It was a sudden and unexpected death which broke our hearts in a way I can't fully describe. At the same time my mother, who had brain cancer, was on her death bed. Her cancer broke our hearts over and over again and we were helpless to do anything to save her. As it turned out my mother died two weeks after my son. But my turning back to the faith began just before she died. Paul's conversion would take a few years longer.
A short time after we buried our son, I went to Hospice to see my mother who was in a coma. I think she could hear what was said to her so I made the decision not to tell my mother that we lost our son. Others who visited her promised me they would not say anything about his death when they were in her room. She didn't need anymore pain and soon she would know anyway. This trip to Hospice was a hard one which by God's design I made alone. My husband and two year old daughter, Andrea, waited for me at home. It was difficult if not close to impossible for me to leave the house and drive anywhere because every fiber of my body ached from the loss of our son and the tragedy of my mother's cancer. Still, I had to go because my mother wasn't expected to live much longer. I think my guardian angel was the one who really drove the car to Hospice that afternoon so I could spend some time with my earthly mother and get reacquainted with the Blessed Mother.
At that point, I had been a lukewarm Catholic for so long I had completely forgotten that Jesus gave us His mother when He was on the cross. She had always been my mother and loved me even though I hadn't given her much thought since I was a child. As I was sitting in my mother's room, my pain was enormous. I couldn't talk to her about the unbearable pain I had from losing Aaron. I couldn't tell her that I had been praying for her recovery, but God would not bring forth that miracle. I felt paralyzed as I left her side to sit across the room. I wanted to leave but I promised my father I would stay with her until he got back.
As it turned out, there was a rosary and a cassette tape of a singer and a priest praying the rosary on the table across the room. I had turned into such a generic Christian that I did not remember any of the mysteries of the rosary. But, I turned on the tape, picked up the rosary and followed along. For a short time afterward I felt a sense of peace in my heart. I kept thinking how odd it was to feel this peace as I drove home to be with my family.
All too soon we buried my mother and the sense of loss overpowered me again. I couldn't prepare for the pain of her loss even though I knew her cancer was terminal for a year before she died. But something occurred to me after she died that I would have never believed to be true. My brand of Christianity which fit well with the world around me was no match for my pain. Several weeks later, I was home alone for a short time. I was out of bed, dressed and functioning to the point where I had the energy to clean the living room. As I was dusting the fireplace mantel, I picked up a picture of Aaron. Suddenly, I fell back on the couch and sobbed as if his death had just happened. My energy was gone in a flash and I could feel my heart breaking all over again. I wanted to run back to bed and fall back to sleep so I could wake up and have his and my mother's death be a nightmare that really didn't happen.
But then as I was sitting on the couch clutching Aaron's picture, I heard something in my heart. I believe it was Our Lord who had something very definite and in no way lukewarm to say to me. He said, 'If you’re Catholic, then be Catholic and through the fullness of the faith I will bring you peace." You have to understand something here. I was a full-fledged lukewarm Catholic. I thought every Christian in every denomination had the fullness of the faith if they loved God and practiced the golden rule. But by "coincidence", I knew what the fullness of the faith really meant. I knew because during my maternity leave I sometimes turned on EWTN. I didn't watch it because I wanted to become a devout Catholic. I watched it because some of the shows on that Catholic TV station seemed pretty interesting. Someone, I don't remember who, referred to Catholics as having the fullness of the faith.
Since then there has been no turning back. I began my journey back home to the Catholic faith. I heard the call and was so desperate for some peace in my heart. I began by pulling out an old rosary in my closet and following along when they prayed it on EWTN. It was an easy thing to do and I didn't have to be around a lot of people which was still so hard to do. After a while I was ready to learn and relearn everything I could about the faith and I am still learning. I read books. Crossing the Tiber is one of my favorites. I listened to tapes. I watched EWTN and listened closely. I went to a Catholic Bible study and back to Mass on a regular basis. It took a while, but in time I knew with all my heart Who I was receiving at Holy Communion. Now even after many years have passed, I still cry sometimes during the Consecration.
As I grew in the faith, I also began to recognize my sins and felt a deep desire for the Sacrament of Reconciliation. I hadn't been to confession in years and had never experienced a longing for the sacrament before. Through time and many experiences, I also grew to love the Sacrament of Baptism. The love began to blossom when I realized that by God's grace, our son was baptized less than a week before his sudden death. I was in no hurry to have him baptized, but "circumstances" prompted me to get it over with that particular weekend. Then through people, places, events, prayer and the sacraments the Lord was showing me all kinds of holy habits over and over again.
Finally, I came to the point where I wanted my husband to be Catholic in the worst way. How could I not want everything Jesus would want for my husband? But I couldn't push him. After all, before we were married we both agreed it was no big deal what Christian faith we were. He only came to my Catholic church because he really didn't belong to any particular Protestant church. So, instead of bugging him to convert because of everything the Lord was showing me about His Church, I prayed for Paul's conversion as I prayed my rosary. I asked Our Lady to pray that he would receive his First Communion by the time our daughter would receive her First Communion.
And, to make a long story short, Paul received Jesus in the Eucharist two years before Andrea. It was a great blessing to be united in the faith sooner than I even dared to pray for, complements of the Blessed Mother! Our journey is still taking us places I never would have imagined. I ended up writing a couple of books. We published them on our own and so far almost 3,000 people have read them. We have been involved with several projects that remind people of their Baptism day by sending them Happy Baptism Day cards. We also have a Catholic jump rope program called Jumpin' with Jesus. This ministry is a part-time thing for my husband and me and is not widely known, but it is still an amazing thing.
Because now we can proclaim with great confidence that through Catholicism, there can be great joy even after great tragedy. One of my favorite movies, "The Wizard of Oz", reminds me of my journey. I found out that everything I need to sustain me, bring joy into my life and guide me to heaven has been right under my Catholic nose all along. The culture I was comfortable in blinded me to something I now know with all my heart... There is no place like home! There is no place like the Catholic Church! Embrace it like crazy. ~ Karla Wilkinson