My Faith Journey

A personal account of challenging long-held beliefs and searching for truth with conviction.

By Joanne Grey

Read Time: 5 minutes

My parents were Dutch immigrants, and I was born to them about seven years after they arrived in Canada. I’m one of five children, and my parents were devout Catholics, so we were all raised going to church every Sunday. We went to a Catholic elementary school. We prayed before our meals. And even though we didn’t read the Bible together as a family—I never saw my parents read the Bible—their example taught me that God is real, that He is good, that we are accountable to Him, and that it’s important to make Him first in my life. For that, I am forever grateful to them.

In my early teens, I became interested in playing the organ at our church because no one else was available. Even though I wasn’t very qualified, I was welcomed into that position, and I’ve been involved in worship music ever since.

Being involved with church music and choirs meant that I was practicing a lot and singing the words of hymns over and over—often words directly from Scripture, though I didn’t realize that at the time. Through that, I was learning and internalizing so much about God that, as I got a bit older in my teens, I began to have some questions.

One of the verses we sang repeatedly came from Psalm 72, though I wasn’t aware of the connection at the time. The verse says that “he” will “have dominion,” or rule, from “sea to sea.” At one point, I thought, “Well, that’s talking about Jesus—but how is he going to rule from sea to sea? Are there seas in heaven?” That was a question I never asked anyone to help me understand, but one I kept, as Mary often did, deep in my heart.

As time went on, one of my children asked me, “Mommy, if Easter is about Jesus coming back to life, then what’s the Easter Bunny all about?” Good question. I didn’t know the answer. I made something up, and he accepted it, but it made me think, “I don’t know. Why is there an Easter Bunny?”

Another time in church, I remember hearing the reader read a portion of Revelation, which wasn’t read often in the Catholic Church, and I thought, “What? I didn’t know that was in the Bible—beasts with seven heads and ten horns! Oh my goodness.” I was curious.

This curiosity began to push me toward a better understanding. In my early twenties, the Catholic Church launched a major program called “Renew,” which encouraged people to return to the Bible. I nudged my husband and said, “Hey, do you want to do that?” He said, “No, no—you go ahead.” So I planned to attend one of the daytime meetings. But when I attended, I was so disappointed. I moved mountains to get there and found that it was basically just a bunch of old ladies gossiping about people who weren’t there. I thought, “Forget that. I’m going to read the Bible myself.”

I started in Genesis. I got tired in Exodus. And I was completely lost in Leviticus—I didn’t make it any farther.

Around that time, Jehovah’s Witnesses came to my door, as they often did. I explained my dilemma, and they said, “Well, we can help you with that. We can come to your home. We can give you Bible classes. It won’t cost you anything. You won’t need a babysitter.” I thought, “Well, that’s great.” I told them to come during the day when my husband was at work, because he wasn’t interested in this kind of thing.

I had no plans to change religions, but after about a year, I realized that maybe Catholics didn’t quite have it all together the way I had been taught. So I left the Catholic Church—much to the chagrin of my husband—and started attending the Kingdom Hall with my children. I did that for about a year, but I wasn’t ready to commit. I kept thinking, “What if I’m wrong again? I thought Catholics had it all together, but I found out they didn’t. What if it’s the same here? I have children to raise properly. I need to know for sure what the truth is.”

Providentially, God put me in contact with a brother named Tim, who then connected me with two local sisters. They came to my home regularly to study the Bible with me and encouraged me to seek the truth for myself. One thing they encouraged me to do was to explore as many other religions as I could find and then decide which way to go.

So I did. I wrote a letter, photocopied it, and mailed it to all the churches listed in the Yellow Pages. I received books, phone calls, and visitors who taught me about their religions. I learned a lot—and became increasingly confused.

At that point, I found myself wondering, “Why did I open this can of worms? I was much more comfortable being an ignorant Catholic than learning how much more there was in Scripture that I didn’t understand. But what is the truth, really?” That’s when one of my favorite passages came to me one day when I was reading:

If you will receive my sayings and treasure my commandments within you, make your ear attentive to wisdom; incline your heart to understanding; For if you cry out for discernment, lift up your voice for understanding; if you seek her as silver and search for her as for hidden treasures, then you will discern the fear of the LORD and discover the knowledge of God. (Proverbs 2:1-5 NASB95).

Another verse that really helped me is “Prove all things; hold fast that which is good.” (1 Thessalonians 5:21 KJV). God wouldn’t ask us to prove something if it wasn’t possible. Since I loved science and experiments when I was in school, I thought, “I’m going to keep trying. I’m going to try to prove what is right.”

After sorting through many religions—Christian Science being a particularly difficult one—I finally concluded that I had enough confidence to move forward with the Christadelphian understanding of Scripture. What I loved most was the encouragement to read the Bible yourself every day, to study it, ask questions, and remain open-minded. I thought that motto had to be the best one, because at least I would be in the right ballpark.

In November of 1987, I was baptized again, much to the chagrin of my husband and my father, though they both attended, albeit reluctantly. I think they thought I was going to grow two heads or something. Over time, they got used to it. Seven years later, when my son was baptized, both my husband and my father attended without issue. Six years after that, they also attended my daughter’s baptism.

Sadly, my husband, Curtis, was diagnosed with cancer in 2002 (I’ll share his story in the next issue). As he became terminal and began to examine his life more deeply, he wanted to know more about what I believed—about Christadelphians and about God in general. He began reading the Bible a little. Twelve days before he died, he was baptized in a wheelchair, going down a ramp into the water. They tipped the wheelchair back to baptize him. That was the last time he left the house.

We had been praying for a physical miracle, but we received something even better.

That’s the short version of my journey of faith so far—and it isn’t over yet. I continue to be challenged and to learn. I’m deeply thankful for the habit of daily Bible reading and study. As I get older, I go through the Scriptures more slowly and more deeply, finding even more to think about, consider, and internalize.

One final verse that keeps me going, and I pray will for the rest of my life, is Philippians 1:6: “I am confident of this very thing, that He who began a good work in you will perfect it until the day of Christ Jesus.” (NASB95).

What God has begun in me, and what He has begun in you, will be completed. Don’t give up. Just cooperate with God. He is doing the work. He does 99%; we just need to give our 1% and be open to His work in our lives.

Joanne Grey,
Niagara Ecclesia, ON