Faith and life in a rational mind.
I don’t often reference my professional work on JeffHutson.com, but this Lent I’m offering a free six-week group devotional series. We’ll focus on six virtues that can reshape our relationship with God, money, and things. It’s a pilgrimage to good food – to real food.
For years, I’ve been inspired by some of Catholicism’s great thinkers as they discuss their journey into the Catholic Church on EWTN’s The Journey Home. That’s why I’m particularly humbled that The Coming Home Network chose a “regular guy” like me to share my conversion story on their Jan. 12 episode.
What I had quarantined years ago was my own desire to receive spiritual gifts as proof that God loved me. The book, Journeys Home 3, reinforced what I’d slowly begun to learn through the Catholic Church: That spiritual gifts – including the more dramatic Charismatic ones – are not about me. They’re there to build up Christ’s Church.
Over the years, many have told me they live life with no regrets. Yet many of us do have regrets whispering through our brains as we try to nod off at night. And we’re not alone. Saul of Tarsus, Dan Fogelberg, and Bob Dylan each had something to say – or sing – about regret.
I’m excited that my conversion story, “God Doesn’t Know Me,” is featured in the Coming Home Network’s September 2024 newsletter.
Tears welled as I sat in Lucas Oil Stadium for the National Eucharistic Congress. Since I’d left a Pentecostal church more than 30 years ago, I’d steadfastly avoided what I considered religious emotionalism. As I gazed around the stadium, four words came to mind: “You are not alone.”
One of the mind-blowing ideas I encountered through the Catholic church is the understanding that God – who is not bound by time or place – can remove those barriers for us.
When I entered the Catholic church, I left a piece of my heart in the Evangelical world. Yet I spent many years with a chip on my shoulder.
Why are our concepts of life after death so varied? I believe this comes from our overall discomfort with death – our mortality and that of our loved ones.
As I walked from his room, my dad called me back. “I just wanted to say I love you,” he said. As it turned out, those were the last words I would ever hear from him.