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Growing up, I was a good Catholic boy. In grade school, I was an altar boy, and I was in the parish choir. As a teenager, I attended a Catholic high school and went to Mass at least twice a week.
In my own way, I loved God, really wanted to go to heaven, and wanted God to help me in my life. But with the benefit of hindsight, my faith was more about living a good and upright way than it was about knowing Jesus and having a personal relationship with him. While I did all the right things, I was really consumed with my life and my plans.
That all changed in May 1971 when I attended a prayer meeting in my parish. I was eighteen years old. I went to see a friend who had been involved in drugs, but who was now clean because he had met the Lord. For the first time, Jesus became real to me. For the first time, I saw how much he loves me. He was a real person, not…
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