Easter Sunday 2025
Hi, I’m Sharon.
I’m a former opera-trained soprano, wife to Erjon, and mom to three boys — Michael, and twins Jamie and William. We live in Cedar Park, Texas in a multigenerational home with Erjon’s Albanian parents, Vera and Enver, who we call Nena and Gjyshi. Two languages, one roof, and a faith still unfolding.
I spent most of my life as a Protestant. I wasn’t looking to leave. But in the spring of 2024 something started to shift — quietly at first, then all at once. By that summer we were attending Sunday Mass. By the following school year our boys were in faith formation. In spring 2026 the twins received their First Holy Communion and Michael was confirmed at Easter Vigil. You can read how it all began here.
Erjon and I completed our OCIA journey this past year. We are so thankful to have our whole family walking this road together — showing up every Sunday, learning what it means to build a life rooted in faith, one ordinary day at a time.
This journey has seasons. Some essays follow our family’s conversion story closely — the questions, the moments that cracked something open, the faith that kept surprising us. Then life swoops in and the writing shifts — caregiving for an aging father-in-law, navigating a school choice that changed everything, the texture of multigenerational living under one roof. The twins’ First Communion. Michael’s Confirmation. The ordinary Tuesday that turns out to carry the whole weight of something holy. These essays are simply the seasons of a full family, living a busy life, who just happened to discover that faith changes everything — and is still changing us.
Rooted at Home is where I write about all of it. Not from the other side with tidy answers. From right inside the journey — the questions, the ordinary moments, the faith being built one day at a time.
If you’re somewhere on this road too — I’m glad you’re here.
— Sharon
Every Sunday I send the Rooted Roundup — a weekly letter of family moments, beautiful reads, and the church calendar lived out in real time. No walls, no pressure. Just a Sunday letter from me to you. Pull up a chair.