What I learned when I became an Episcopalian

July 2, 2026 joanna seibert

What I learned when I became Episcopalian.

Guest Writer: Mary Hines

There had been so many unusual events I couldn’t understand. I was young, about to get married, and very happy about my future. My parents did not share my excitement. I had been raised Catholic and was about to marry a Baptist. We had resolved our conflict over religion, but my parents had not. So, one August summer evening, we were married by a justice of the peace, with the immediate families attending. My mother was too upset to attend.

We didn’t try to find a church immediately. There was too much hurt and anger to think about it. So Sundays became a day for sleeping late, going fishing, or whatever. Two years later, we were expecting our first child, and I knew I wanted to raise my family in a church. More time passed, and we were finishing our studies at LSU and moving to Shreveport to continue his internship. We also had another child, a son, and we would be there a year. Perfect time to look for a church. A friend suggested the Episcopal Church and thought we might find it a good fit… she would ask a neighbor about it. A few days later, a tall, balding Episcopal priest knocked on my door. Fr. Wallace Garrett came in
and invited me to visit St. James, a mission church in the neighborhood. We did, and loved it immediately. He was so helpful, giving us instructions and sometimes coming to our home to help us. We wanted to be confirmed and have the children baptized as a family.

During some of our sessions, he said we needed to get our baptism records from our former churches. My husband had no problem obtaining his, but I knew I couldn’t approach my parents for this. Instead, I called the Catholic Church where I was baptized. I gave the young priest who answered my name, date of birth, and when I was baptized.
He came back in a few minutes and said he couldn’t find it. So I gave him a few more possible dates. This time, he
said, “I found it, you’re the adopted one!” I was 30 years old, married, mother of two, and just discovered I had another name… My birth father was my uncle, whom I rarely saw, and my birth mother was a woman I never saw.

We joined St. James Episcopal Church that summer, and our two children were baptized at the same time. We were thrilled to become part of a church family. Fr. Garrett came up to me at the reception and said, “Mary, I hope you find much happiness and peace in the Episcopal Church. I hope he knows just how much his wish has come true…”

Mary Hines 92 years young

Joanna joannaseibert.com

One of many ways of doing Intercessory Prayer: The Empty Chair

July 1, 2026 joanna seibert

Connecting to God’s Presence As We Pray for Others: The Empty Chair

“It is vital that you become aware of Jesus and connect with him at the start of your intercessory prayer. Otherwise, your intercession risks becoming not prayer but an exercise in remembering people. The danger is that your attention will be focused only on the people you are praying for, not on God.”—Anthony de Mello in Sadhana: A Way to God (Image Books), p. 126.

De Mello’s book had a significant impact on my spiritual practices. The awareness exercises focused on my surroundings, my body, and my senses have been the most practical ways to learn to experience God’s presence. I was familiar with these exercises before and had tried them without success, but they have now become an essential spiritual practice for me.

One more lesson to remember: Spiritual practices that were not meaningful before can become important later.

De Mello suggests that rather than envisioning the face or clothes of Jesus, we might seek a sense of Jesus in the shadows, calling him by as many names as we are led. He recommends imagining Jesus in our prayers, seated in an empty chair beside us. This can be one of the most consistent ways to experience the presence of Christ.

These intercessory prayer exercises can change how we pray and how we talk about prayer with others. We remember Jesus as the great intercessor, imagining Jesus’ presence directly beside us and visualizing those we pray for as Jesus lays hands on them.

The book’s final prayers focus on turning desires and prayers over to God one at a time—praising God at all times for everything, both good and bad. This can change our prayer practice and how we live our lives.

De Mello invites us to live and pray intimately, becoming part of the grand mystery of God’s love for us and all creation in the present moment. He believes that this precious now, the present moment, is where God meets us.