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Where I was in my life
Set the scene. What was your life like then?
I grew up in a Christian family. Both my parents were baptized. My father tried to attend Catholic church every Sunday. My mother started Catholic, then moved toward Evangelical Christianity. Christmas in our house was more of a family reunion than a religious celebration. My parents gave us the freedom to practice our faith in our own way, but God was always there. Thank God. God willing. God protects us. I heard those words from day one. At first, I repeated them because that was simply how we spoke. But the older I became, the more I started wondering whether someone—or something—really did have a protective hand over my life. I put myself in so many bad situations through immaturity, bad decisions and sometimes a complete lack of faith. Yet somehow, I kept finding my way back to the right path. Sometimes it felt like a sixth sense about a person or situation. Sometimes déjà vu would stop me from doing something. Sometimes a dream seemed to reveal something before I understood its meaning. When I was around five or seven, I fainted several times for maybe twenty seconds. Afterwards, something significant—good or bad—would happen. As a child, I couldn't explain it. It almost felt as though my body had gone somewhere for a few seconds and returned knowing something I didn't. Then I became a teenager. And honestly, I was far too busy being a terrible teenager to pay attention to signs from God. But around eighteen or nineteen, they started again. Rarely at first. Confusingly. Never frightening. If anything, they seemed to be pushing me toward questions I wasn't yet mature enough to answer. Who should be in my life? Who shouldn't? What kind of woman did I want to become? And what exactly did I believe?
