“I just can’t be Protestant anymore,” I blurted out one night as my husband and I were driving in the car.

“What?” “This is just crazy.

Every church teaches something different. Every pastor interprets the Bible according to his own personal beliefs. How is anybody supposed to know who’s teaching the truth?”

“Well, all we can do is choose the denomination that’s most faithful to the Bible.”

“So we decide what the Bible means? We decide what’s true? Then the Bible isn’t our final authority – we are.”

Kerry was silent for a moment. “Well, if you’re not Protestant anymore, then what are you?” he asked. I didn’t know.

“Lord,” I prayed later that night, “I’ll go wherever You want me to go. Please, just lead me to the truth.”

I never imagined that I would one day become Catholic, even when I knew I could no longer be Protestant. Catholicism simply wasn’t an option.

When I left Protestantism, I had no idea where I was going. I only knew that there had to be something else. No matter where it led, I had to find the truth. I never dreamed it would be in the last place I ever wanted to look.

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