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How I’ve Struggled With Spirituality After a Medical Trauma That Led to Disability
I was born into a Roman Catholic family. We went to mass on religious holidays, had weddings and funerals officiated by priests, and prayed before meals at family gatherings. Like most of the other kids I knew, I was baptized, attended Catholic school from K-12, and celebrated my First Holy Communion, Confirmation, and Confession. I read the Bible, completed the mandatory Religious Studies in each grade, and memorized the Lord’s Prayer and the Hail Mary. In my child’s mind, God was a mysterious and powerful figure who watched over me (which was simultaneously comforting and frightening), Heaven was an ethereal idea of the wonderful place waiting for me when I die, and Hell was the terrifying end I would experience if I had been a bad person.
