Rediscovering My Faith

By Margo Jacob

I grew up Catholic in the most ordinary and profound ways: grace before meals, bedtime prayers, Sunday Mass, Catholic grade school, First Communion, First Confession, Confirmation. For a long time, faith was simply woven into the rhythm of my family life. I was all in. I read at Mass, served at the altar, and looked for ways to stay connected when I moved from Catholic grade school into public high school. Through CYO, I discovered T.E.C. — Teens Encounter Christ — and that weekend changed something in me. The music, the meals, the letters from loved ones, the quiet time for reflection, and the witness of others made Christ’s love feel close and real. I didn’t want it to end, so when I was invited to serve on future retreats, I said yes without hesitation. Soon after came graduation then college.

I promised myself I would stay committed to my faith and attend Mass regularly. The truth is, I don’t even remember if I made it through my first semester without skipping. Confession was not happening. I never stopped believing in God, but I stopped leaning into that relationship. Prayer became something I reached for in emergencies — when my gas tank was empty, when I was overwhelmed, or when I needed something. Looking back, I can see that my faith had become familiar enough to take for granted. It was still there, but I was no longer choosing it with intention.

After college, I moved back home while I searched for work during a recession. Being home made it easy to return to Mass with my family, but once I found my first real job and moved out, my attendance became sporadic again. That pattern followed me for years. I would return to church when life brought me home or when I needed grounding, then drift when things felt settled. During one serious relationship, my fiancé began the process of becoming Catholic, and I became his sponsor. Although that relationship ended, it reminded me how much I cared about sharing my faith — not by forcing it on anyone, but by walking beside someone who was curious.

When I met my husband Mike, he supported my connection to the Church from the beginning. He began attending Mass with me almost every week, and after our marriage preparation, we were invited to serve on the Pre-Cana team. For more than ten years, we stayed committed to that ministry as an interfaith couple — even after moving away and driving hours to continue serving. Later, in Granville, my faith felt especially alive. I joined a parish, helped develop a St. Vincent de Paul chapter, and became part of a women’s Bible study. I loved our church, our neighbors, and the life we were building.

Then another move changed things. We struggled to find a parish where both of us felt at home. I eventually joined one, but Mike did not, and going to Mass alone became uncomfortable and lonely. For almost twenty years, I remained a parishioner mostly from a distance. I rarely attended Mass, but I still read the bulletin. I still wanted to feel connected. Then one day, a giant red question mark caught my eye: Alpha. Before I could talk myself out of it, I registered. I remember thinking, “What did I just do? Am I really going to sit with strangers and talk about faith?” Apparently, yes.

At my first session, I was met with kindness, acceptance, and breakfast — which, if I’m honest, helped get me there each week. But it was the people who kept me coming back. The Alpha team created a space where I felt welcomed exactly as I was, and my tablemates quickly became companions on the journey. I looked forward to each session. I talked about it with Mike, then with family and friends. Little by little, Alpha helped me let go of the guilt and shame I had carried about not being a “good Catholic.” It helped me pray more honestly and intentionally. It reminded me that God had not been waiting for me to become perfect before coming close. He had been meeting me where I was all along.

Alpha did not give me a new faith. It helped me rediscover the faith that had always been there, waiting beneath the busyness, the excuses, and the distance. It gave me friendship, healing, peace, and a way back to Mass. Most of all, it reminded me that questions are not a threat to faith; sometimes they are the doorway back. So, if you are wondering whether Alpha is for you or someone you know, my question is simple: why not Alpha? Registration opens January 30, and we’ll begin gathering around the table on February 13. I’ll save a seat for you.

To learn more about Alpha and register, visit: www.saint-max.org/alpha.