It Didn't Kill Me

Well, it didn't kill me. I said it, and I'm still standing. Amazing.

I talked on the phone with my brother last night, and when conversation turned toward finding a "church home" in his new community, I casually suggested they check out the local Catholic parish.

Gutsy. My sister-in-law was raised Catholic, and my brother even considered the Catholic Church when they married (in the Church). But, as sometimes happens, my brother couldn't quite jump over the obstacle in the road. The Mary thing.

I can't blame him. It almost cost me a conversion.

So, I casually made the suggestion last night. And he shot it down. Kindly, of course. "We want to find a church that has an active youth program," he said.

I'm praying that the Catholic Church in his town has the best youth program around. Though I suspect they won't stop there to check it out. They will probably pop in and out of the evangelical churches for about six months and decide on something around Christmas.

So, it's a gutsy move to suggest the Catholic parish in town. Almost a waste of breath. What's a sister to do? Talk about it anyway, for starters.

Then, leave it to the Holy Spirit.

I'm not stupid. I can't change anyone's mind - especially my brother's mind. Sometimes, family members make the worst evangelizers. Too much shared history to get in the way. He's seen me make a lot of bad decisions. He's seen me marry and divorce. He's seen me at my worst. Who am I to make a case for the Church?

But the Holy Spirit can do far more than I can.

And so, I mostly put it to prayer. But when the subject comes up, when the Holy Spirit opens that door, I walk through it.

I realize, afterwards, that it didn't kill me to speak up. In fact, it wasn't hard at all.

Share our Faith with someone in your life. It probably won't kill you either.