Confessions of an Orthodox Christian Convert

I never felt like a worse Christian
until I became Orthodox.

Not because there’s impossible standards,
but because I finally saw
what fullness looked like.

The path I was walking—once focused
on simply avoiding sin—
suddenly opened up
into something far more sacred:
a roadmap for becoming holy.

I don’t yet fast—
except during Great Lent
and Sunday mornings before the Eucharist.
I still pray in my head
instead of standing reverently
before my prayer corner.
And I know little to nothing
about living liturgically,
and following the traditions of the Church.

But I know now there is a path I can follow to become better.
A path that produces saints.
A path that is rooted in ancient truth.

I pray for the day
I’ll see this life not as a ruler
measuring my daily failures,
but as a divine invitation.
I pray to love God
more than I love the comfort
of everyday life.
And I pray to become
a true follower of Christ.

Where I stand now
is somewhere in between—
knowing I came to the Church
to experience the fullness of the faith,
and now slowly learning
how to live it.

I came to the end of myself
trying to draw near to God
without a guide.
I longed for a roadmap,
for the Sacraments,
for the ascetical life.
And in the Church,
the burden of figuring it out alone
was lifted.

Maybe this is how it works—
first learning the fasts and feasts,
the calendar,
the traditions we hold dear,
and then stumbling through it all
for years,
until they finally root deeply in my soul.

So please don’t judge
if you see me eating meat
on a Wednesday or Friday,
if there aren’t icons
in every corner of my home,
and if I fail to reflect Orthodoxy
in every word and deed.

I am but a baby deer—
learning how to walk,
how to follow the narrow road toward Christ,
and—slowly—
how to love the Orthodox faith.