What I Brought With Me: Protestant Gifts I Still Carry as a Catholic

When I came into the Catholic Church, I didn’t leave my entire past behind. Like many converts, I carried some treasures from my Protestant upbringing into my new life of faith. These aren’t things that Catholics reject—in fact, the Church affirms them—but the emphasis placed on them in my Protestant background left a deep and lasting impact on me. They’ve become part of how I live out my Catholic faith today.

Here are four gifts I still carry with me:

1. A Love for Personal Worship

Growing up Protestant, I was taught to worship God both publicly and privately. Worship wasn’t confined to Sunday morning—it was something personal, expressive, and often creative. I fell in love with worship music and the wide variety of styles and sounds that flourished in Protestant churches. That environment was a hotbed for musical creativity, and it shaped the way I relate to God through song.

Like Paul and Silas singing praises from a prison cell in the book of Acts, I learned to see worship as something that could rise from any circumstance. Even now, I often find myself drawn into God’s presence through music, sometimes in a quiet moment alone with my guitar, sometimes just through a favorite hymn or praise song playing while I drive. The Catholic Church has an ancient and beautiful tradition of liturgical music, and I’ve found it enriches rather than replaces this love I’ve always had.

2. A Deep Love for Scripture

It took some getting used to, not carrying a Bible with me to Mass every Sunday. In Protestant services, I almost always had my Bible in hand, the margins filled with notes and the pages dog-eared from study. Sermons were moments for deep teaching, and I usually left with several new insights scribbled down next to Scripture references.

Today, I still take notes—but now it’s often in my missal or a journal. The Catholic Church has a profound reverence for Scripture, and every Mass is saturated with it, from the readings to the prayers to the liturgy itself. My Protestant background taught me to hunger for God’s Word, and that hunger has only grown deeper within the Catholic tradition.

3. A Passion for Evangelism

Evangelism was central in my Protestant life. I wanted everyone to know Jesus, and I still do. Though I now understand conversion differently—more as a lifelong journey into the fullness of faith rather than a one-time decision—I still feel a strong pull to tell others about Christ.

Catholics are called to evangelize too, though we sometimes forget it. My desire to share the gospel with others was formed and nurtured by my Protestant roots, and it continues to motivate me today. I want people to encounter the mercy, grace, and truth that I’ve come to know—first in my early walk with Christ, and even more deeply through the Church He established.

4. A Conversational Prayer Life

Catholicism has taught me to treasure the rich beauty of liturgical and devotional prayer—the Rosary, the Divine Mercy Chaplet, the Liturgy of the Hours. These prayers have grounded my faith in ways I never expected. But I still keep a journal where I write out my prayers in a conversational tone, just like I used to.

That way of praying hasn’t gone away—it’s just been expanded. Now I pray in the company of the saints. I know I have a cloud of witnesses interceding for me—men and women who know the struggles of this life and bring them before the throne of grace. I have a Heavenly Mother who prays with the tenderness of a mom who knows her son is still learning. My prayer life isn’t just personal anymore—it’s communal.

Conclusion: A Both-And Kind of Faith

I didn’t become Catholic by throwing away my past—I became Catholic by stepping into the fullness of the Christian story. These Protestant gifts haven’t lost their value. They’ve been deepened, reoriented, and completed in ways I never expected.

If you’re someone who has wrestled with the tension between traditions, I hope you find encouragement here. The journey into the Church doesn’t mean you must erase everything that came before. Sometimes, it means bringing your whole story with you—and letting God continue to write it in a new chapter of grace.