I am a cradle Catholic. Mom and Dad were quite intentional about a Life in Christ. They both were incredible witnesses and loved Jesus dearly.  

However, there came a time in my life where it simply felt like my faith was existent because of my parents. My faith was not my own; it was Mr. and Mrs. Powell’s. I often thought that there was no way that God could love me as much as He loved my parents. 

My problem was not believing that God existed or that Jesus was real, it was believing that He wanted anything to do with me because I could never be as holy as my parents. 

My conversion happened about three years ago. To be completely honest, the idea that I could even have a conversion as a cradle Catholic propelled me into this curiosity. I remember feeling invited into a specific type of intimacy with Jesus. It tugged at me until I could not ignore it any further. I was gently shown the doors of my heart that were governed by shame, fear, perfectionism, control, pride and selfishness. 

Entering into a personal relationship with Jesus was the best decision of my life. In my room, sitting on a black bean bag chair, this message was clear: me, who I was, the individual that I was, was so deeply loved. It had nothing to do with who my parents were and everything to do with my identity as the daughter of a King. 

At that time, I was in my final year of undergraduate studies. I was finishing my honours degree in psychology and completing a thesis. I had already gotten into a masters program for counselling psychology and had a research assistant job lined up at the University of Saskatchewan where I would be researching topics like eating disorders and Indigenous child-rearing. 

I thought my mission was clear: the Lord was calling me to take up space in the research world. I was to bring truth in the form of numbers, measures, participants and research hypotheses. However, my first year of master’s studies revealed a lot in me: I started to feel disconnected from research and disconnected from what I thought the Lord had planned for me. 

Then, in April/May of this year, I felt a severe rejection in the research world as I was not accepted to complete a thesis at my grad school. Even as I write this, I feel a familiar weight of embarrassment on my shoulders. I felt my proclaimed vocation, my mask of self-hood in academia and intellect falling and failing. 

It felt so real and at that moment, it did not feel like a mask. It felt like a rejection of every idea I ever had and of every paper I ever produced in the program. And every interaction with a professor, my critical voice inside me proclaimed soulessley, “they never thought you had it in you to complete the thesis anyways”. Maybe it was the devil, the accuser, maybe it was my wounds calling and begging me to hate myself or some part of myself. 

A month later, my friend Julia Hanley and I were having coffee at a Starbucks. Julia and I knew about each other but did not meet officially until we did an Advent book study in my living room. After the study, we started to meet up more frequently and became good friends. 

Then, while having coffee, I told her what had happened with this academic rejection. I also let her in on the idea that now, I thought the Lord was calling me elsewhere. I told her that I felt that whatever I was called to do next, it felt like a big decision. But I was not sure. I felt a tug to do something for the Lord, not academia. Those have never felt so separate before. 

Still, Julia listened to me and looked at me with wide and smiling eyes. She asked me, “Do you want to work in a parish?” She then told me she had discerned leaving St. Patrick’s Parish to finish her degree. 

At first, I felt resistance. I was scared. I had never done anything like this. My resume had nothing like this on it. And I had spent years trying to build up my resume with school and academics. However, I took it to the Lord. By then, the Holy Spirit and I were good friends, so I went through discerning with a familiar hand guiding me through the process. 

My hesitation turned into openness that turned into acceptance. I was the perfect blend of terrified and excited; such intense emotions and opposite emotions to hold in my body. It has been three years since my conversion. My faith, I can confidently say, is now my own. The Lord has done wonders with my heart but also with His plan for me.

I am still completing my masters degree, but I am also working at St. Patrick’s Maple Ridge as the Discipleship Formation Coordinator. Studying counseling and doing the work that I do now, has re-intrigued me into the human heart and the human person. 

I feel passionate about formation, but spiritually and emotionally. To care for human beings spiritually, we must also care for their hearts. To form missionary disciples, we must also take time to form habits, relationships and principles that can carry us forward in this bittersweet journey of life. 

Hannah Powell is the Discipleship Formation Coordinator at St. Patrick’s Parish in Maple Ridge, BC.


#WeAreProclaim is a story campaign by the Proclaim Movement. Inspired by Humans of New York and the Archdiocese of Detroit’s I am Here campaign, it will showcase missionary conversion stories of people from the Archdiocese of Vancouver. Check out the rest of the campaign on Facebook and Instagram at @weareproclaim.