Ashley’s Testimony

Ashley shares how an unexpected invitation to Discovering Christ from her neighbor at the exact moment she needed it, and how this invitation helped her encounter the personal love of Jesus Christ.

I didn’t grow up with a strong Catholic foundation. I was baptized as a baby, but that was about it. My parents didn’t raise me in the faith—we didn’t pray together, we didn’t go to Mass, and we didn’t read Scripture. I didn’t a Bible until I was eighteen.

The home I grew up in was abusive and chaotic, and as I got older, I began to drift further and further away from any belief in God. Eventually, by the time I was in high school, I called myself an atheist. I thought that even if there was a God, He certainly didn’t love me. He didn’t care about me. I felt completely alone.

At seventeen, I left home and got my own apartment. I was trying to survive, to build a life, to escape the chaos I’d come from. But inside, I was empty. Angry. And lost.

When I was eighteen, my life took a turn that I’ll never forget. I was involved in a break-in, and I was shot in the chest at gunpoint. I remember lying there, bleeding, thinking… Wow. This is it. This is how it all ends. I thought it would just all go black—no light, no afterlife, no God. Just… nothing. And I remember being terrified.

They rushed me to the hospital. I survived the surgery. I remember lying in that hospital bed trying to make sense of it all when a Catholic priest came in to give me Last Rites. I felt two things at once: I wanted someone there because I didn’t want to die alone, but I was angry that it was him. He represented a God I didn’t believe in—a God who felt cold, and distant, and absent. So I was rude to him. I pushed him away. I told myself I didn’t need his prayers.

But something about that moment stuck with me. After I was released from the hospital eight days later, I couldn’t shake it. So I went back to find that same priest to apologize. And that conversation… was the first small step that began leading me home.

I started going back to church again. But honestly? It didn’t mean much at first. I was still angry. Still doubtful. Still searching for something I couldn’t name. Over the years, my life went up and down like anyone’s does. I did all the things that are supposed to make you happy: I went to college, earned degrees, got a good job, earned a doctorate, got a better job, made good

money, had nice things. And yet it all felt empty. No matter how much I achieved, something was missing. There was this ache inside that no success could fill.

Then, in 2023, my life changed again; this time through heartbreak. A close friend of mine, someone I deeply cared for, had a heart attack on Christmas morning. I was there. I did CPR, called 911, did everything I could to save him, but he died right in front of me.

He had a strong faith. I didn’t. And I was angry; angry at God for taking him, and angry that it happened on the day that’s supposed to be about love and life and hope. I remember yelling at God. I remember walking the Stations of the Cross at night, demanding answers.

I’d stand there in front of the crucifix and ask, “Why? Why did You do this?” But even in that anger, I kept showing up. Because somewhere deep down, I hoped God might show up too. And one night, He did.

On one of those walks, I met another parishioner. We started talking, and he invited me to join something called the ChristLife program. I had never heard of it, but I thought, Why not? I was looking for answers I couldn’t find anywhere else.

When I started ChristLife, I was nervous. I didn’t know many people, and I wasn’t sure if I would fit in. But as the sessions went on, I met people from all walks of life—some strong in faith, others searching like me. What struck me was that everyone there was looking for something real.

The program talked about having a relationship with Jesus— not just knowing about Him, but actually knowing Him. That was new for me. Because to me, God had always been far away—distant, unreachable, someone out there.

But through ChristLife, I began to see that Jesus wasn’t far at all.

He was close.

Personal.

A friend.

A brother.

Someone who had been walking beside me through everything—I just hadn’t noticed Him.

As I went on to the next sessions—Following Christ and Sharing Christ—something in me began to change. I even signed up to be a table facilitator because I enjoyed it so much. I started to pray differently. To think differently. And for the first time, I began to see God not as someone I feared or resented—but as someone who loved me deeply, who had been with me all along.

Through ChristLife, I also came to know the Holy Spirit in a real, living way— something I’d never really considered before. I met people who cared about me, who prayed with me and for me, people who supported me when I wasn’t sure what faith even meant anymore. And that sense of belonging—of being loved both by God and by His people— it changed everything.

After completing the ChristLife series, I knew I wanted more. Not more in the sense of knowledge, but more of Him. I wanted to understand this faith that had found me in the ruins of my unbelief. So, I did something I never would’ve imagined a few years ago. I applied to the seminary. And now, I’m pursuing a Master’s degree in Theology, and I’m in the Lay Ecclesial Minister certification program.

When I look back over my life, I can see something I never saw before. Every moment I thought was proof of God’s absence—every pain, every loss, every unanswered question—was actually a place where He was quietly working to bring me home. My suffering wasn’t wasted. My anger wasn’t wasted. Even my doubt wasn’t wasted. Because all of it brought me to Him.

Today, I don’t stand here as someone who has all the answers. I stand here as someone who was found. Someone who was lost and is learning, day by day, what it means to be loved by God. Faith isn’t about having it all together. It’s about relationship. It’s about saying yes to grace, even when you don’t understand it.

If my story says anything, it’s this: God never stops pursuing us. Even when we’re running in the opposite direction. Even when we’ve given up on Him. He never gives up on us.

I used to think I was too far gone for God to care. But now I know—the same God who met me in that hospital room, who walked with me through grief, and who led me to a community of believers— is the God who never stopped calling my name.

And if He can do that for me… He can do that for anyone.

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Ashley experienced ChristLife in the Diocese of Cleveland.

Ashley’s testimony was originally shared on the November 2025 Proven Path webinar.