St. Ignatius Was There All Along — I Just Didn't Know It

I've been sitting with something since I got back from Barcelona.

I'm still processing it.

So bear with me because this is different from what I normally write.

This is about faith. And connection. And the moments in life that make you realize something bigger than yourself has been quietly guiding you all along.

It Started With a Conversation

In March 2025 I was at Miami Music Week — one of the biggest gatherings of music industry professionals in the world.

I was talking with Austin Kramer — a well known figure in the electronic music space, former programmer at SiriusXM and Spotify, and a devout Catholic who often shares his faith publicly. He suggested to me and my producer partner Ethan Capps the idea of creating a techno version of a Gregorian chant.

So I started listening.

Hundreds of Gregorian chants. Looking for the one that compelled me.

Then I heard Marco Frasini's version of Anima Christi.

Something inside me said — this is it.

I didn't know why. I just felt it.

Ethan and I got to work. We created a melodic techno version of Anima Christi that we simply called ANIMA. We released it on Good Friday 2026 on Spotify, Apple Music, YouTube, and most major streaming platforms.

I still didn't know the full significance of what I had chosen.

Then I went to Barcelona.

The Discovery in Manresa

On Friday of our trip Renner and I drove to Manresa — the city in Catalonia where St. Ignatius of Loyola spent time in spiritual retreat before founding the Jesuit order.

We visited Cova de St. Ignasi — the cave where St. Ignatius prayed and wrote his Spiritual Exercises. Standing in that cave — in the actual physical space where one of history's most influential spiritual figures lived and prayed — was humbling in a way I didn't expect.

And that's when someone told me.

The Anima Christi — the prayer I had chosen completely by feel, completely by instinct, completely without knowing its origin — was written by St. Ignatius of Loyola.

I was standing in the city where St. Ignatius lived and prayed.

Holding a song I had made from his prayer.

Without ever knowing the connection.

I was happily surprised doesn't begin to cover it.

But that was just the beginning of what I realized.

Six Connections I Couldn't Ignore

When I got back to Barcelona and started reflecting I began counting the connections between St. Ignatius and my life that I had never noticed before.

One. Renner received his First Communion at St. Ignatius Church.

Two. He attends Strake Jesuit — a Jesuit school that is part of the tradition of St. Ignatius of Loyola.

Three. I chose the Anima Christi — St. Ignatius's prayer — to turn into music without knowing it was his.

Four. My next single is called "I Surrender" — a song about surrendering to God. St. Ignatius's defining moment was surrendering his sword at Montserrat. The same act. Centuries apart.

Five. This trip to Barcelona came together last year in a way that felt like it was always meant to happen.

Six. On Wednesday in Barcelona we saw Pope Leo drive by — twice. That was my mother's birthday.

My mother. Priscilla Baguisi Villabroza.

A devout Catholic who prayed every single day. Attended mass regularly. Visited the Holy Land. Made religious pilgrimages throughout her lifetime.

She passed away on March 16, 2024.

Fourteen months before I stood at Montserrat.

The Pope on My Mother's Birthday

Wednesday was one of the most extraordinary days of the entire trip.

We took a tour of Gothic Barcelona and the Cathedral. Beautiful ancient architecture that reminded you how small and brief any individual life is against the sweep of history.

And then — driving through the streets of Barcelona — Pope Leo passed by.

Twice.

I don't take that lightly. Seeing the Pope once in your lifetime is a gift. Seeing him twice in one day — on your late mother's birthday — feels like something else entirely.

I felt her presence in that moment.

Priscilla Baguisi Villabroza — who had spent her entire life in devoted Catholic faith, who had made her own pilgrimages to sacred sites around the world — was somehow present on her birthday as her son stood on a street in Barcelona watching the Pope drive by.

I believe that with everything I have.

The Moment at Montserrat

From Manresa we drove up the mountain to Montserrat — the sacred site where St. Ignatius knelt and surrendered his sword in 1522, making his vow to devote his life entirely to God.

The mountain itself is extraordinary. Ancient rock formations rising dramatically from the Catalonian landscape. A basilica carved into the side of the mountain. Pilgrims from around the world making their way up to pray.

I lit a candle.

And in that moment — standing in one of the most sacred Catholic sites in the world, in the same space where St. Ignatius made his most defining act of surrender — I felt something I can only describe as the presence of the Holy Spirit.

My guardian angel.

And my mother.

I looked up at a painting of the Virgin Mary overhead and asked for her intercession and prayer.

I prayed for forgiveness. I let go of the things that were holding me back. I prayed for my family. I prayed for my children and the decisions they face.

And I felt a peace I haven't felt in a long time.

A soothing. A stillness. A sense that everything was going to be okay.

The Sagrada Familia

That evening Renner and I toured the inside of Sagrada Familia — Antoni Gaudi's magnificent unfinished basilica in the heart of Barcelona.

I had seen it from the outside the night before when Renner and I had dinner nearby. Beautiful at night — lit up against the Barcelona sky.

But inside is something else entirely.

The light that comes through the stained glass windows. The columns that rise like a forest toward the ceiling. The sheer ambition of a building that has been under construction for over 140 years and still isn't finished.

Gaudi reportedly said he wasn't in a hurry because his client — God — was patient.

Standing inside Sagrada Familia after the day we had — Manresa, Cova de St. Ignasi, Montserrat, the candle, the prayer, my mother's presence — I understood what Gaudi meant.

Some things take as long as they take.

Some things unfold on a timeline that isn't ours to control.

What I Know Now

I didn't plan any of this.

I didn't choose the Anima Christi because of St. Ignatius. I chose it because something compelled me.

I didn't name my next single "I Surrender" because of Montserrat. I named it because it was the message I needed to put into the world.

I didn't go to Barcelona because of St. Ignatius. I went because my son was competing in a golf tournament.

But St. Ignatius was there in all of it. Long before I knew to look for him.

My mother was there too.

She spent her entire life in faith. Making pilgrimages. Praying daily. Attending mass. Visiting the Holy Land. Building a relationship with God that she carried with her every single day until she passed on March 16, 2024.

And fourteen months later her son stood at Montserrat — one of the most sacred Catholic sites in the world — and felt her presence as clearly as if she were standing right beside him.

I think she led me there.

I think she's been leading me for a while.

Some things in life aren't coincidences.

Some things are exactly what they're supposed to be.

Surrender isn't weakness. It's the most courageous act there is.

St. Ignatius surrendered his sword and changed the world.

My song ANIMA — available now on Spotify, Apple Music, and all major streaming platforms — carries his prayer into a new form.

My next single "I Surrender" carries his message forward.

And I'm still learning to surrender.

But Barcelona reminded me that I'm not doing it alone.

Mom — thank you for being there.