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By Heidi Comes
Recently, while driving with my husband, our conversation turned, as it often does, to our children. I remember, as a young mother, receiving well‑intended advice: “Make sure you have something more to talk about with your husband than your children.” Or, perhaps one could just have more children. We have yet to run out of things to discuss, despite the fact that our children are now mostly adult‑ish. Of course, I say that in good humor.
On this particular drive, we were discussing the season of life each of our children is currently experiencing. With two newlywed couples, a young mother, a couple of college students and one child nearing the end of high school, we have much to pray for and much to place in God’s hands. As we reflected on the zeal our sons seem to have right now for learning, defending and devoutly living their faith, something struck me: just as there are stages of development in our human nature, there are stages of development in our spiritual lives as well.
St. Paul reminds us of this in Scripture: “When I was a child, I used to talk as a child, think as a child, reason as a child; when I became a man, I put aside childish things” (1 Cor 13:11). St. Paul does not diminish childhood, but shows how it forms the man he becomes. Growth, both physical and spiritual, is meant to happen over time, and each phase sets the stage for what is to follow.
As my husband and I continued our conversation, we began reminiscing about the different stages we ourselves have walked through as a married couple. As a convert to the Church, our dating and early married years were filled with questions—all from me. I regularly asked, “Why do you do that?” and “What does this mean?” as I accompanied him to Mass and tried to reconcile my own upbringing with the Catholic faith. Those questions, though not always welcomed in the moment, ultimately strengthened my husband’s faith.
At first, it mostly annoyed him that I questioned everything. But as he dove deeper into learning the why behind the Church’s teachings, he experienced something like a reconversion of his own. Looking back, we see now how closely that season mirrors where some of our children are today: hungry for truth, eager to understand, and passionate about defending what they believe.
Then came children, and our spiritual lives entered a new stage. We became teachers, not apologists or evangelists, just parents offering regular, steady formation. Teaching not only with words, but with presence, example and consistency. As our lives became more hectic, our faith became more grounding. Our faith was not something to defend but to live.
The Catechism of the Catholic Church teaches that the family is the domestic church (1655), and we learned the truth of that firsthand. Our family grew in holiness during the messiness of home life. We learned what the Beatitudes meant by living them. We understood sacrifice through sleepless nights. We knew the unconditional love of our Father, as we loved and forgave one another.
And now we find ourselves in what some might call the third quarter of life. Once again, our faith is developing, inviting us into a deeper stage—one marked by trust. Trust in the Father’s promises. Trust that the mistakes we have made can be transformed into something beautiful in the hands of a merciful God. Trust that the love we have given, and continue to give, will be perfected in Christ. Scripture assures us in Romans 8:28, “We know that all things work for good for those who love God.” This season has taught us that trust is not passive but an active surrender. We place our past, present and future into the hands of a Father who is always faithful.
As our car ride came to an end, my husband made an observation that has stayed with me. Unlike the stages of human development, which unfold naturally, spiritual growth is not guaranteed. It is a choice. Many stop growing, not because God stops calling, but because they stop responding. And while I cannot point to a single moment when I consciously chose spiritual growth, I know this: I continue to choose to let God into every aspect of my life. And when you do that, watch out! Nothing remains the same.
St. Augustine famously prayed, “Our hearts are restless until they rest in you,” reminding us that faith matures as we faithfully live each stage we are given. We will not achieve perfect faith here on earth but are encouraged to continue to wrestle with and pursue it until we are perfected in him.
