“Where in the Bible does it say that?”
Oh Lord, here we go again.
If I had a dollar for every time my husband fired that question at me over the last seven years, I’d be funding our family vacations for life.
“Where does it say you have to confess your sins to a priest?”
“Why do you call him Father when the Bible says not to call anyone on earth father?”
“What’s the deal with the Eucharist?”
“Why do you guys worship Mary?”
“Show me where the word ‘Catholic’ is in Scripture.”
Early on, these pop quizzes didn’t just spark debates—they caused actual rifts in our marriage. My go-to defense? Pure, unadulterated passion mixed with a healthy dose of Catholic pride. “We were the original church! We’re 2,000 years old! We’ve been doing this since the Apostles!”
The problem? Passion isn't a theological comeback.
When it came down to actual Scripture, my knowledge was—shamefully—paper-thin. I knew the names of the books, but every time I tried to read the Bible cover-to-cover, my ambition died somewhere around Genesis 4, and the book went right back to gathering dust on the nightstand.
That was seven years ago.
Today? Things look a little different. I’ve rolled up my sleeves, dug into the Word, and learned how to stand my ground.
And that is what this blog is all about. It’s the story of how my Pentecostal husband unintentionally pushed me to fall madly in love with the depth, history, and beauty of my own Catholic faith. It’s about the playful sparring, the deep theological battles, and how wrestling over Scripture has ultimately strengthened our marriage and brought us closer to God.
Buckle up—it’s been seven years of debates, grace, and steady learning, and we’re just getting started.
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