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I read a lot.  Edit that…I read a ton.  Any time I have a new topic of interest, I tend to read as much as possible.  My journey into Catholicism has proved to be no different.  I was recently devouring The Screwtape Letters and Mere Christianity, by C.S. Lewis.  Granted, C.S. Lewis was not Catholic.  He was, however, converted to Christianity by the coolest catholic ever, J.R. R. Tolkien.  For the uniformed Tolkien wrote The Hobbit and Lord of the Rings.

I needed to stop about half way through Screwtape.  It is a very different kind of book.  I will discuss it in greater detail…later.  I needed a break from Satan and his legions of demonic influence.

I own a Kindle.  One of my favorite pastimes is to pack it down with as many books as possible, then read like a mad man.  Back in July, I purchased Rome Sweet Home, by Scott and Kimberly Hahn.  I am not sure why I didn’t read it early.  It made for a really good read.  Though not deeply protestant, I could appreciate the struggles and triumphs that the Hahn’s experienced.  I find it fascinating that there seems to be more and Protestant ministers coming home to Rome.  The book touched on several subjects that I have not previously read very much about, birth control especially.

I think that the differences were what made it such a refreshing read.  Scott was a Presbyterian Minister, a Calvinist to the marrow of his bones.  His wife studied and obtained a theology degree as well.  Though the things I pause over a slightly different from theirs, than feelings are identical.  I have experienced Catholicism at a deeply emotional level.  I also feel like I have been given the grace of faith.  Now, through mass, adoration, prayer, lectio divina, and reading I am beginning to understand that grace of faith on an intellectual level.  I always refer to my Protestantism as nominal.  It may be due for an upgraded title.  Or possibly a warning label.  Something like, “WARNING, this protestant knows enough to be dangerously wrong!”

I am reminded tonight that it isn’t a race to the finish line at Easter.  The finish line is the moment after I draw my last breath.  I hope to hear the words, “You fought the good fight and have won the race.”