How I Met the Home
Joseph Valle
20 Years Old
Union, New Jersey USA
I find it hard to believe that I lived the first fourteen years of my life without knowing God or even having a prayer life. I was spoiled rotten because I am the youngest of three. I learned how to act through the television. I was exposed to violence, fantasy and corruption. When I turned fourteen, I got sick of living a fantasy life. It was too empty and did too much wishful thinking. I wanted something else, something real, and tangible. I concluded that I had to be a good person to achieve this vision. This conclusion was drawn from the infinite wisdom of my grandparents, who had the spiritual lives of model Catholics. I was not going as far as doing all that they did, but copying the way they acted was good enough; being obedient and nice would be good enough. I discovered that that life was too hard, so I reverted back to being bad.
The next year, my friends, including Greggy and Kristian Espejon, were rambling about some great camp they attended. "It was great fun with sports and games", they said. I was immediately got attracted to it. "You can't go wrong with sports," I thought. My mother was also convinced. So, they sent me to the camp. What my friends neglected to mention was that it was a camp run by Home of the Mother. I had a fear of priests. In living a fantasy life, I developed an idea of the priest as one who can see souls and ramble about the salvation of the world. When I saw these priests, I was terrified. These people can see souls! They will banish me from the camp when they see who I am inside. On the contrary, the Servant Brothers welcomed the kids with joy; sincere joy. I never met a smiling priest or religious until that day. This joy was an object of curiosity for me. I cannot pinpoint the exact moment when I met God during that camp but I remember a fire in my heart slowly building. The fire was started by that exploration of joy that led me to a conversation with God. I remember Father Raphael would yell at us during the homilies and I would nod my head uncontrollably, thinking, "That's so true!" I came out of that camp feeling different. I remember riding down the Virginian mountains and fearing that I would be separated from God the moment I saw the world once again. I remember praying the rosary over and over in the car and at home. 
This first encounter with God was followed by a surge of love for the Church. My friends and I would bike to Mass at 8:30 in the morning, pray the rosary and come home at 10. We would bring all the campers together twice a month and have talks. I found myself satisfied with the joy and grace God gave me.
I returned to BLD, which is a covenant community that I used to attend when I was small. In BLD, I was exposed to a charismatic encounter with God every week. This weekly encounter helped me to express my love for God in a different way but I was also drawn to a silent encounter with God. After the worship sessions, I would hide away in the Church and pray. One night after worship, I found myself alone in the church, praying. I was wondering what my life would be like in the future. I was drawn into thinking about the priesthood and going to Spain. The words "Spain, priest" kept repeating over and over in my head. Eventually, I brushed it off. "It was wishful thinking", I thought. There were too many factors to consider; such as money, family, friends and the Spanish language.
The next year, I started becoming inconsistent in prayer. I found myself fighting to go to Mass and to pray the Rosary. I started marginalizing my faith and putting it last in my priorities. That same year, Greggy Espejon joined Hogar de la Madre. He is the same age as I am and I was frustrated at how different we were. He had the faith to embrace his vocation, to give everything for the greater glory of God! His decision made me rethink the priesthood. I still found it hard to believe that God would go into my head and say it so bluntly. God works in mysterious ways, right? But that message was not mysterious. I could not convince myself into thinking that it was His voice I heard. In addition, I was aiming my life towards becoming a doctor. My whole high school career was aimed towards medicine. I had college level biology, sciences and even a nursing course in my schedule. I did not know anything about philosophy or theology. The second hardest obstacle was girls. I liked girls and priests cannot like girls.
I came to the conclusion that God wanted me to be a lay missionary and have kids to be priests. I told Father Colum this conclusion. He said, "If you don't want to be a priest because you like girls, then that's a bad excuse!" I got the impression that girls are the daughters of Mary and these daughters must be loved in the way we love Mama Mary. They must be treated with respect. I accepted that explanation but I did not apply it to myself.
For some reason, I continued to toy with the idea of the priesthood and at the same time seek to serve the people. I became a Eucharistic minister with my best friend and that in itself gave so many graces. Seeing the Eucharist in my hands was breathtaking. Giving it to the people saying, "THE BODY/ BLOOD OF CHRIST" produced an inner peace in my heart. It produced a peace that I had never experienced before.
I became torn. I knew that I was running from God and the only solution was to throw myself at His feet. The problem was that I could not let go of my attachments. One day, I was doing the laundry and arguing with God. "Jesus, I can't be a priest. I like girls and priests can't like girls! But why did You give me peace as I was giving You to the people? Why am I drawn to the priesthood!?!" In a burst of inspiration from the Holy Spirit, I was led to examining all the girls I ever liked. In this examination, I found that all the girls I liked drew me closer to God in some weird way. They each had a radiance that was interiorly peaceful and serene. It was this peace and serenity that drew me to them. "It was God! I was drawn to them because God was in them! I like girls because they are the children of God!" Father Colum's homily came to my mind and a sense of stupidity came over me.
God drew the final message when the girl I liked was moving away to Arizona. I knew from that moment that my attachments were being slowly snipped away by God. That night, I prayed in my room. I was thinking of the realities of this vocation. The pains I would have to suffer, the things I would have to leave, the people I would never see. In the midst of this meditation, I found myself hugging the cross. Unknowingly at that moment, it was a cross given to me by Hogar de la Madre. I found myself wanting to be a priest and throwing myself at His feet. "If I give my life so that one soul can be saved, then it's a life worth giving."
I explored all the possibilities in the priestly life. I could be a diocesan priest, but it was hard for me to see myself living in a parish. Nevertheless, I ventured to continue exploring the diocesan priesthood. I got the Vocations Director's number and I called him three times. He never answered. He either left early, was at a meeting or was on vacation. That was a clear sign that I was not going to be a diocesan priest. It was my senior year in high school. I had to search for a college to attend. I knew a Catholic college was for me. I made a list of schools to go to; Sacred Heart, Saint Thomas Aquinas, Yale (just in case), Seton Hall and Ave Maria University (at the bottom of the list). I knew Home of the Mother was in Ave but that must not be a reason for me to go there.
My brother got accepted into Disney World in Florida and Ave was 6 hours away, so I was able to visit the interim campus with my parents. The first people I saw there were Fr. Henry and Br. Reinhard. The more I toured the place, the more I kept seeing the Siervos. When I got home I began applying for Ave Maria. That was the only college I ever applied for.
The summer of my graduating year, I decided not to go to camp. Rashed Espejon, the oldest of the three brothers, asked me to accompany him in picking up the Servant Brothers from the airport. In the car, Father Colm asked if we could help them in that year's camp because they were going to be undermanned. I gave him an excuse and he did not take it. I ended up going to the camp and it led me into exploring a possible life with the Siervos.
The Fall semester in Ave there was a silent retreat run by the Servant Brothers. In the silence, I fell in love with Mama Mary and the Eucharist. I remember kneeling in my room for five minutes thinking "I love You" over and over and nothing else. I also explored the vocation to the Home of the Mother. I loved the Eucharist, I loved Mama Mary and I am a youth! I had to be a Servant for the Home! In my mind, being with God meant being a Servant.
On October 2nd, two days after the silent retreat, I went to the chapel. I waited to speak to Father Colum after confessions. He hit me on the shoulder and said, "So, are you going to enter the Community or what!" I remember thinking, "Was it that obvious?", but I replied, " Yes, Father, it's been buggin' me for four years." I began eating with them and spending time in prayer with them. I entered on the 1st of January, 2008. It feels as if there is no barrier now that can prevent me from reaching God.
©HM Magazine No. 141 March/April 2008
