Keep Casting Your Lines: Your Catch Is Out There

Sometimes we want to have it all figured out before we make a decision.

My conversion to Catholicism took about 10 years. You could say I’m a little slow on the uptake. Or you could say I’m cautious. I realized it was a significant commitment and I wanted to thoroughly understand what I was getting into.

After becoming a Christian at age 16, I spent the next few years of my young adult life in the evangelical faith. It was rich and wonderful and grounded me in a knowledge of the Bible. But in college, I read a biography of Thomas Merton, who converted to Catholicism and became a monk in my home state of Kentucky. Then I read Julien Green’s book God’s Fool, about the wild conversion of Francis of Assisi at the turn of the 13th century.

It struck me that Merton and Francis had clearly experienced a genuine, radical conversion to the Christian life, even if their process looked totally different from mine. The faith culture I was in had an unfortunate bias that held that Catholics aren’t really born again. But suddenly I wasn’t so sure.

This launched me on a journey of studying Church history and theology. I compared Catholic beliefs with my Protestant presumptions. I attended RCIA twice but didn't commit. At some point, I realized I was not Catholic, but I was not Protestant anymore either. Existing in a spiritual no man's land in between, I kept seeking.

One night, I asked God the same question I’d been asking for years: Should I become Catholic?

It occurred to me that the fact I had to keep asking was my answer. It was time to make a commitment. 

I realized I couldn’t wait until I fully grasped every Catholic doctrine and tradition. I couldn’t wait until I had a 100 percent intellectual grasp on Catholicism. That would never come. But I knew enough to know I was being called to join the Church. On Pentecost Sunday 2007, I finally entered the Church and received my first Communion.

It was like walking into a giant mansion that had always been home and yet I was still unfamiliar with many of the rooms and interior design. My first few confessions with a priest were awkward. I still didn’t fully comprehend how bread and wine could become the real flesh and blood of Christ, but I chose to accept it anyway. I had a fondness for Mary, but felt uneasy about praying to her when I could just go directly to her Son.

But I also loved so much of the ancient tradition that was now new to me. It was intoxicating, like a love affair.

It’s the same with dating and relationships. We fall in love with a person and want to know more about them.

We want to merge our life with theirs. But, in the same way I had questions and misgivings about becoming Catholic, we want to identify red flags that might lead us into something unhealthy.

Red flags are not inherently bad. They can be a grace that protects us, prepares us, and leads us to make wise decisions.

At some point in a relationship, though, we have to make a decision. Are we going to move forward and pursue permanence, or is it time to end it, even if we have genuine affection for the person? As they say in Kentucky, the time comes to either fish or cut bait.

Fishing is an act of faith. We can’t see the fish beneath the water and there’s no guarantee they will bite. But we cast our line anyway, trusting we’ll catch something. 

There’s no way to know beforehand if a relationship will be successful. That’s why it’s important to take your time, as I did with my exploration of Catholicism, to make sure you know as much as you can before you make a rash decision. “But if any of you lacks wisdom, he should ask God who gives to all generously and ungrudgingly, and he will be given it” (James 1:5).

Gaining wisdom, knowledge, and preparation is good. At the same time, you can’t stay there forever. 

And so, in a relationship, you make a choice to move forward with the intention of permanently committing your life to one person in marriage. It’s an act of faith. Once you have made the decision, it’s also a continual choice you make to remain committed. 

My advice is to enjoy the process. Enjoy the delight and wonder and goodness of being with someone you like. Be careful to do the work of seeking out potential issues, and if you see red flags that warn you the relationship won’t be a healthy one, then make the hard choice to end it. Cut bait and move on.

But also know that you will never fully be ready to enter and live out marriage. It’s a process, and you learn it as you go.

Don’t let yourself become paralyzed into inaction by thinking you have to have it all figured out.

You’ll never have it all figured out. If we waited until we did, we’d never do anything. Life is meant to be lived.

The night I prayed for God to tell me if I should become Catholic, I felt an inner nudging telling me to “surrender to the mystery.” I didn’t have to fully grasp everything. And the things I did need to figure out would come in time. 

That night, I made a choice to enter into communion with the Church. In a similar way, after dating for three years, I made a choice to enter into marriage with the woman who is now my wife. I knelt in the loft of an old used bookstore, surrounded by stories, and we started our own. Now my wife and I are figuring it out as we go, and we always will be. That’s okay. 

Do the wise work necessary to make the best choice as you consider marriage. But also don’t wait until you have it all figured out. That moment will never come. After healthy, sufficient exploration and preparation, surrender to the mystery. Then start living out your love story. Along the way, always keep seeking God and trust Him to take care of things.  

“Trust in the LORD with all your heart, on your own intelligence do not rely; In all your ways be mindful of him, and he will make straight your paths” (Proverbs 3:5-6).