Weston Boardman

My story does not contain an incredible conversion, witness to a miracle, or even a record detailing how I heard the voice of God speaking directly to me. Rather, my story strings together a series of small yeses overcoming each no, small occasions of divine planning, and many moments where Christ revealed Himself so subtly in others.

I was born to a loving family and raised in Arizona as a cradle Catholic—rare blessings to have received at the beginning of my life. As I grew in my household, my parents shaped my conscience and taught me by example more often than word, while my Catholic education provided me knowledge of salvation, Church history, and a rigorous understanding of right and wrong. Being intellectually convinced of the Faith’s veracity, I always sought to abide by the expectations found in the rules and traditions of the Church.

However, faith was not a commonplace topic in my home. An expectation for proper prayer, for attendance and reverence at Sunday Mass, for knowledge of the truth—these were actions that my siblings and I knew were right. However, I don’t recall talking much about any personal relationship with Jesus at home. I was more inclined to avoid expression of feelings and personal relationships while embracing the structure and logic of the Faith.

Near the end of my high school career at Seton Catholic Preparatory, I attended the Kairos Retreat. At that time, I was struggling to believe that God knew who I was or cared for me the way He did for others. Stories would grace my ears during and before the retreat about individuals hearing “the voice of God” or witnessing a miraculous event or experiencing an Augustinian conversion or…or…or. The list continues, yet the disparity between the authenticity and quality of personal faith I saw in others and that of my own only seemed to widen. Then, while in Confession, I expressed this concern to Fr. Chris Axline. I will never forget what he said: “Have you ever thought that you don’t hear God’s voice correcting you because He does not need to deliver some great intervention to you?” At the time, that felt like a great comfort. And to this day, to an extent, I believe this to be true. Yet, I knew something was missing.

Shifting to my collegiate years, sin and challenges to my faith breathed new life into the same struggle: I knew the Logos as the Law but not as the Person. I lived in a degree of hypocrisy according to a double standard. By reason, I could demonstrate why the Church and her teachings were right according to scripture, tradition, and nature while I maintained Sunday Mass attendance understanding that God was owed at least that level of worship.

And then came Jack McPherson—a man who has been my best friend for almost 5 years now. We grew close and sharpened one another at Hillsdale, in our Sigma Chi fraternity, at work with Convention of States, and in our pursuit to become United States Marine Officers. Over those years of struggles, victories, sins, forgiveness, and triumphs shared, we pushed each in other toward Christ. I prayed and worked from the beginning as God’s lowly instrument to bring him back home to the one, true Church. Through that endeavor, Christ began to challenge me through Jack to understand my faith in greater depth. His questioning led me to self-reflection. I now had to reckon with how steadfast my beliefs were. By Jack’s example of conviction and passion for the truth and a willingness to talk honestly about thoughts and feelings, I found that I had neglected my emotions and my personal and passionate abandonment to the Faith, to a genuine relationship with each Person of the Trinity.

Here, Christ began to chisel away at my heart of stone. Again, I found myself clothed in hypocrisy. Jack and I had been praying together for months and even began doing personal prayers in the morning before training based upon the Daily Readings. Consistently, a verse appeared in my journal: “Show me your ways, O Lord. Teach me your paths.” However, I never took the time to find that verse in the Bible. During those same months, I was in an unhealthy and sinful relationship. I maintained the external veneer of holiness while acting shamefully in the dark. Eventually, Jack helped me through it. I went to Confession after months of turning away from God. As I departed the Confessional for the pews to gaze upon the tabernacle in thanksgiving for Christ’s mercy once again, I searched for the Psalm I was to say and pray over for my Penance. As I found Psalm 25, my eyes filled with tears at the sight of those words: “Make me know Your ways, Lord; Teach me your paths.” I didn’t hear a voice, but I realized God spoke to me in the silence of St. Anthony’s. I may have been blessed to guide Jack to the structure and beauty of the Church, but Jack placed that first ember on my heart that has grown slowly to a more intimate encounter with Christ—a flame I intend to fuel.

Jack eventually joined RCIA and asked that I be his Sponsor. I was extremely grateful and proudly assented. Shortly after, with Hillsdale sending students home in the wake of the lack of information about COVID, God separated me from Jack and brought me back to my future wife. Michaela Wuycheck, my now other half and best friend, was the girl I dreamed of dating in high school. God knew that for most of my lifetime I was nowhere near being the man worthy of loving, leading, and protecting Michaela for the rest of her life. However, I had let God in, I had learned to develop enough close friendships by breaking down some of my walls, and I had delved deeper into the Church than ever before with Jack, so now came the hour for God to add kindling to that ember and etch my soul in a new manner.

Many small interactions with Michaela revealed her love for Christ laid upon a solid foundation of faith. I was awestruck with her familiarity with Christ and her nonchalant tone of weaving talk of prayer and Jesus into everyday conversations. I shared with Michaela on one of our first dates that I found myself incapable of talking about Jesus as the Person or of Him having any sort of personal relationship with me. I knew many facts about Him. I didn’t know Him as a friend would.

With Michaela and the support of many others, I began to look for Christ in more places and invite Him so that I could more perfectly seat Him as the King of my heart over time. Michaela and I began to make our faith the cornerstone of our relationship. We prayed 54 Day Novenas in discernment of our relationship and growth in certain virtues. We read Scripture while together and apart. We dedicated 2021 to inviting and imitating the Holy Family and consecrated ourselves to St. Joseph. These small yeses to the constant presence of our Mother, her Spouse, and Jesus bred a familiarity with Christ. However, the last domino to fall before I began to enter an intimate relationship with Christ came after a valley of sin in March. I had distanced myself from God once again.

Michaela, being the truly holy woman she is, brought Christ’s love and mercy to me. She spoke of how God sees each of us as His prodigal child. How He loves us, He’s wrapping us in His arms, He forgives us. And then, she delivered a message that broke my hardened heart. She said, “You are first and foremost a child of God - that’s your true identity and will be forever.” I then prayed on those words and asked for insight from God for the next couple days. Until one day, while facetiming Michaela, I broke down as the wave of realization crashed down on me. For the first time in my life, with true belief and understanding, I said with tears in my eyes, “I am a child of God.”

I am a child of God. Say those words and let your mind dance between the ideas and musings about all the implications those words hold, all the perspectives through which we can find meaning, and all the facets that phrase contains that all point us to Him—the Way, the Truth, and the Life. My efforts to grow in faith received a breath of life with this new dimension of my personal relationship to God. I am sure that I have missed many moments, failed to include some meaningful divine intervention. Since that instant my eyes were opened with Michaela, I have now been more liberated to pursue Christ and serve Michaela and my future family as the future father and husband God intended me to be. From then until now, I have been trying, failing, and trying again to love and serve God and be worthy of the title, “saint.”