Editor’s Note: On this twenty-fourth day of our Advent blog series “Hidden Joys,” DC Service Corps volunteer Grace Kueber shares memories of specific times of growth in her relationship with God.


In honor of remembering you, 

I may not remember all of the moments of the day I came home from Korea, into the arms of my new family. I may not have made sense of much, except for the newfound smiles, love, and warmth. And I remember to thank You every day for that. 

I remember sitting in an enormous wooden pew, dangling my small legs out straight, nowhere near touching the floor. There is a giant book of illustrated bible stories in my lap. My favorite was Jonah and the big fish. It was the perfect amount of fascinating and horrifying, mystical and real at the same time. I remember my voice seeming to echo through the Church as I told my parents, “I not too loud!” and I kind of liked it. It was here I remember meeting You for the first time.

I remember praying to You every night as a child. I would cozy up with my dad or my mom and we would pray, “Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my Soul to keep; If I should die before I wake, I pray the Lord my Soul to take.” It was here You became my Protector, the God that kept me and my family safe through the night. 

I remember wanting to question everything- not questioning You, just challenging the notion of why something makes sense. I desired further knowledge of the dogmas of the Church, the Why behind why believe.  It was here I remember struggling to understand why I believe what I do. 

I remember It was here I felt hurt enough to wonder if I’d be better off on my own. Here, I decided to put only faith in myself. Maybe I will be open to remembering why later on, just not right now. 

I remember coming home in the midst of a pandemic. The whole world was struggling to find the good in each other, themselves, and their surroundings. Everyone was full of rightful fear and anxiety. But my days were able to slow down, I could readjust my pace. It was here I remember I found You again, in these small pockets of peace and quiet. 

I remember discerning what the next year might look like. I could feel myself doubting my abilities, my path. I wanted to maintain a calm, consistent schedule that I could control. I wanted to stay physically near those who had wrapped me in a blanket of love from the very beginning of Our journey. 

I am able to remember all the moments from the day I moved into Casa San Salvador, into the arms of my new family. I may not have made sense of much, except for the newfound smiles, love, and warmth. And I will remember to thank You every day for that. It is here I will always remember all the light you have brought to me.

It is crazy to think how vividly I can pinpoint specific times where my relationship with God evolved. Like any relationship, there have been times of happiness, dependence, struggle, pride, joy. Even now, there is still so much unknown to explore. I think there is a small bit of sadness that comes with remembering, good or bad memories or feelings. I envied the childlike awe and wonder I once had and doubted whether or not I would ever feel that specific desire to know God like that again. But with each faith-filled conversation I have with my housemates, I can feel their passion and devotion and am reminded of that awe and desire. I remember the journey I’ve taken with God thus far as I continue on my own path.