If you had told me when I was 17 years old that my faith would flourish at a large, public university in the South known more for football than theology, I probably would have laughed.
Like many cradle Catholics in New Jersey, I grew up in a home where the Faith was always present. We went to Mass every Sunday, celebrated the sacraments and often prayed the Rosary together. But by high school, I was mostly going through the motions. I figured I’d keep attending Mass each weekend once I got to college, but I didn’t anticipate much beyond that.
My dream had always been to attend the Catholic university my parents went to. I imagined walking the same paths they had, keeping close to family traditions and the faith that had always surrounded me. Even though I wasn’t especially engaged at the time, I hoped that being in a Catholic environment would help keep me grounded.
But God had other plans. When I was waitlisted, it felt like a rejection not just from the school, but from God himself. Why would he withhold the one thing I had longed for most?
Then came COVID-19. The end of my senior year was marked by shutdowns, masks and awkward Zoom classes. And shortly after, I found myself at the University of South Carolina, a massive school more than 700 miles from home. I didn’t know it at the time, but that detour — frustrating and lonely as it often was — would become a turning point in my spiritual life.
Beyond ‘church kids’
The first semester of college was tough. Pandemic restrictions limited campus activities and made everything feel cold and disconnected. I had a difficult roommate situation, and meeting new people was a struggle. I was incredibly homesick and even started researching Catholic colleges in the Northeast where I could transfer, wondering if I had made a mistake.
At the same time, I had been attending a FOCUS-led Bible study at the Catholic campus ministry, St. Thomas More. I mostly kept to myself at first, unsure of how to open up to the other girls. But week after week, that hour on Tuesday nights became a small but steady anchor that reminded me I wasn’t completely alone. When the missionary leading our study encouraged me to sign up for the fall retreat, I reluctantly agreed.
That retreat changed everything.
There, I encountered a community unlike anything I had known before: young people striving to lead holy lives. They were fun, joyful and unashamed of their love for Christ. For the first time, I saw the Faith lived out not just on Sundays but in the ordinary rhythms of college life. These weren’t the “church kids” stereotype I had heard of before; these were true disciples and, soon, true friends.
Before long, St. Thomas More began to feel like home. I became more involved, joined the student leadership team and even started leading my own Bible study with a friend after formation through FOCUS. More importantly, I found friends who made college not just bearable but enjoyable, friends who shared a desire to pursue holiness and a commitment to hold each other accountable to that call.
While the community I found at St. Thomas More was an incredible gift, what ultimately transformed my college experience was the deep spiritual foundation I discovered there.
Falling in love with the Faith
It was there where I really first learned how to pray — not just reciting words out of habit, but having real conversations with God. Through daily Mass and Eucharistic adoration, I began to understand the beauty of the liturgy and the gift of Christ’s real presence in the Eucharist, something I had long taken for granted.
It was at St. Thomas More that I was encouraged to not only practice but actively learn more about the Faith, whether it was through reading Scripture each day or delving into the incredible stories of saints like St. Joseph, Padre Pio and the Fatima children.
It was there where I first truly understood the concept of in persona Christi through the chaplain of St. Thomas More, Father Rhett Williams. Whether celebrating Mass with reverence and joy, staying late to hear confessions after events, or offering spiritual direction amid our usual college grumblings, Father Williams radiated the love of a true shepherd for his flock. To me, as he is to so many others, he was a spiritual father. He never seemed rushed or burdened, even though his responsibilities were many. Instead, Father Williams made each person feel uniquely seen and cared for, reminding me that God does the same. His presence on campus didn’t just make the Faith accessible; it made it magnetic.
Searching for something deeper
While I’ll always remember the football games, camping weekends and late-night study sessions in the library, the college memories that shaped me the most didn’t happen in a classroom or on a trip — they happened because of St. Thomas More.
It was there that I had honest, sometimes painful conversations in spiritual direction as I discerned both my vocation and my post-grad path. I marched alongside friends at the March for Life in Washington, D.C., each year, standing up for the dignity of all human life — including in the very year that Roe v. Wade was overturned. I traveled to Italy on pilgrimage, walking the same streets as the saints I had grown to love and standing in the heart of the Church at St. Peter’s Basilica. I spent hours in the St. Thomas More chapel, often praying in silence during some of the best and worst moments of my life.
It’s no surprise, then, that today, there’s no longer enough space at St. Thomas More to hold everyone. As the Catholic presence on campus continues to grow, so does the need for a new church and student center. Students — just like I once was — are searching for something deeper and more fulfilling than the often-shallow offerings of college life. They’re looking for truth and belonging and God, and they’re finding it at St. Thomas More.
Finding Jesus on a detour
It’s been over a year since I graduated from the University of South Carolina. Looking back, I often wonder how different things might have been if life had gone the way I planned.
I had every intention of attending my parents’ Catholic alma mater. But now, I realize that path might have kept me too comfortable — immersed in religion, yes, but without fully choosing it for myself. When faith is built into a school’s campus and academic experience, it can be easy to assume it’s “just part of life” without realizing how precious and personal it is.
At a secular school, you may stumble upon the Faith, but you ultimately have to choose it. And that daily choice to seek Christ and bring him out into the world amid a culture that often pushes him aside is what ultimately strengthened my faith the most.
I never would have expected to grow in my love for the Catholic Church in the Bible Belt South, but God met me there in ways I never could have imagined.
So to the high school student who wasn’t accepted to a Notre Dame, a Franciscan or a Christendom — or to the Catholic parents anxious about sending their child to a public university — I want to offer some hope. God’s grace isn’t confined to any one campus. Holiness is possible anywhere. And sometimes, the most unexpected detours are exactly where Christ wants to meet us.
