After 14 years working as a New York State Trooper, John wanted something else in his life.  He already had success—after the four and a half years it took him to get his undergraduate degree, he found a good career as a state trooper.  It was a good fit.  He liked protecting and serving, and he was good at it.  He also had many friends—both coworkers and those outside of law enforcement.  Finally, he knew that he was blessed in his family.  The youngest of 5 children, he knew the benefits of loving parents, close siblings, and even the joy of being an uncle (and a godfather) to his siblings’ children. 

On top of these blessings, he received countless more blessings in his spiritual life.  He found peace in the sacraments.  He made it to Mass at least weekly (sometimes his hours would allow him to also go to daily Mass); confession was something that he had learned to love by taking advantage of it at least once a month; and his own personal prayer and spiritual reading were great supports for his daily life.  A year earlier he had also begun meeting with a spiritual director.  He had been encouraged to find a spiritual director when he was on a retreat months before, and he found one in the person of Fr. Elmer, the elderly retired priest from twenty miles east of his home. 

Despite all these blessings, he still didn’t feel at peace deep in the core of who he was.  He was restless.  In particular, he noticed this restlessness during the Prayer of the Faithful at Mass.  “We pray for an increase in vocations to the priesthood and religious life” the deacon would say.  And as John chimed in with the rest of the congregation: “Lord, hear our prayer,” he could almost feel someone tapping him on the shoulder saying: “I’m talking to you.”

He finally spoke to Fr. Elmer about it.  “As your spiritual director,” Elmer responded, “my job is not to push you into anything—I’m just supposed to help you see the ‘big picture’.”  As they went on, part of the “big picture” that Father Elmer did point out was that there’s one place better than all others to figure out if a man is called to the priesthood—that place, of course, is the seminary.

“They’re in the business of faith,” the wise old priest said.  “And a big part of faith is trying to do God’s will.”  Everyone wants to do God’s will, they agreed.  But so often life is so busy that we can’t take the time to really figure out what God wants of us.  “That’s where the seminary can come in,” Elmer declared.  “Sure there is a lot of study and formation, but the main purpose of the seminary is to be likened to what Jesus did with the apostles: He called them away to spend some time alone with Him.”

Of course, as you can imagine, John finally did contact the Vocation Director of the Diocese and ask about the possibility of entering the seminary.  As the application process took place—meeting with the Vocation Director, filling out the applications, meeting with the psychologist, and getting letters of recommendation and other documents—John began to realize that (despite all the work) he was feeling more and more a sense of peace in his decision.

It was also determined that because of John’s maturity (both in age and in education), he would be sent to Blessed John XXIII seminary.  There it would be possible for John to complete the program, God-willing, in just four years. 

As he entered the seminary for the first time, he was anxious but peaceful.  If God was really calling him to be one of His priests, John was going to give it all he had.  And the four years that followed ended up being some of the best of his life.