When I became Catholic, I didn’t just change churches.

I lost a language.

I had spent years in the Protestant world, not just attending church, but living it. I knew how to lead someone to Christ. I knew the Roman Road, the ABCs of salvation. I could teach a Bible study, walk someone through the sinner’s prayer, explain the differences between denominations and where each fell short, theologically speaking.

I knew the Reformation. I knew the awakenings: first, second, even the Azusa Street revival. I knew my Johns: Wesley, Calvin, Piper. I knew what repentance looked like, how to walk in holiness, how to pray in a way that moved a room.

I was fluent in that world. It was my knowledge base.

And I left it behind.

Not because I rejected it all but because God called me deeper. And deeper meant unfamiliar. It meant starting over.

Becoming Catholic felt like moving to a new country.

I could speak the language but not fluently.

I knew some customs, but not all the etiquette.

I was new. And painfully aware of it.

Cradle Catholics knew what to say and when to say it. They genuflected at the right time, knew which knee, knew whether the red candle was lit and what that meant. They lit prayer candles, crossed themselves with confidence, understood feast days and holy days of obligation.

Me? I was in the back of the church, clinging to my little missal and whispering responses half a beat late.

I felt like a child again.

And that…that was the hardest part.

To go from confident to clueless.

From teacher to beginner.

From full knowledge to open hands.

But here’s what I’ve learned:

It’s okay to settle into a small corner of understanding.

It’s okay to be quiet.

To learn slowly.

To love what you do understand and let the rest come in time.

So here’s where I live now:

I love the Eucharist.

I love Adoration.

I love the quiet.

The mystery.

The slow and sacred.

I don’t have all the language yet.

But I know He’s here.

And for now, that’s all I got.

And maybe…that’s enough.

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Martina Griffin is a Catholic convert, writer, wife, and mother of four. She writes about faith, motherhood, beauty, books, and the quiet ache of transformation. A lover of popcorn, deep questions, and old classics, she shares her heart at Big Bowl of Popcorn—one post at a time. Instagram | Facebook | Email Me

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