More than any specific piece of advice, what has most shaped my journey is the discovery that a vocation is confirmed in community, not in solitude, and very much in the company of Mary. I learned that what transforms us is not primarily what is conveyed, but the bond that is built. It was in our daily sharing, along the way, at a simple table—one made of fragility and joy—that I understood that risking myself for God meant, at the same time, risking myself for specific people. That has perhaps been the most profound testimony: that God’s faithfulness becomes visible in the faithfulness of those who walk beside you.

I would tell them that the call they feel isn’t asking them to give up what they desire most, but to find it. They shouldn’t wait until they have all the answers to take the first step; no one does. Sooner or later, you have to take a risk for something. The question isn’t whether it’s worth the risk, but whether you dare to acknowledge that this call already answers what your heart longs for. Talk about it with someone and don’t keep that restlessness to yourself. The first step doesn’t require having everything figured out—it just requires trust.

Every man is destined to risk his life for what he believes will give meaning to his existence. Every small decision determines an infinite number of other paths left behind. I feel that, along the paths of a sacred story, God has guided my steps toward Zion. I was not born a Schoenstatter, but through Divine Providence I grew up near the Zion of Jaraguá Shrine, the spiritual home of the Schoenstatt Fathers’ community (the Community of Zion) in Brazil. Through that mystery, my life intersected with that place and that community, and there I found a treasure that illuminated my youth and showed me a path to fulfillment that, little by little—though not always fully consciously—I began to walk. The witness of other young people in the Boys’ Youth, set ablaze by Christ, and of those priests who gave their lives to follow him, gradually showed me that I was not faced with “another possible path” to choose from, but rather with the path to which I felt mysteriously drawn—a path worth risking everything for—in search of a deeper happiness, which I came to discover in the face and life of Jesus. Today, after more than ten years, with the ups and downs that are part of life, I see on the horizon the fulfillment of a great promise that is yet to come, but which, in part, has already been fulfilled. It will come to pass because I am not yet a deacon or a priest—a gift and mission I hope to receive soon through the mercy of Christ and the ministry of the Church. But it has already been fulfilled because I believe I have been much happier than I could ever have imagined.

I received a lot of advice, but what truly transformed me was the testimony of some priests whom I now have the privilege and responsibility to call brothers.

I would advise him two things.

Freedom: As I’ve said before, every person is called to respond to a great mission in life, and I hope that all young people seriously ask themselves about their own vocation, reflecting freely in their hearts on whatever vocation God is calling them to, whatever it may be. Awareness of one’s vocation usually grows slowly, from the inside out and within the normal circumstances of life, as the young person continues with their studies, their work, and sometimes even during a romantic relationship. If, during this genuine discernment, someone senses the possibility that God is calling them to a religious or priestly vocation, it is good, in order to preserve that freedom, to adopt Mary’s attitude: to keep it in one’s heart, without immediately telling everyone, but rather to share it with those who have the necessary maturity to accompany such a noble matter with dignity and experience. In this way, the candidate avoids raising expectations in others that might compromise his inner freedom. Along this path, he may discover that this is not his vocation and continue with his life as usual, without creating false expectations; or, if he senses that this might be his vocation, he will have the freedom to give a response without social pressure.

Second, as I have already mentioned, it is important to have good spiritual companions. A great source of support for someone discerning their vocation is the ability to share it with someone they trust—and, ideally, someone who has already discerned something important in their own life. That person can then serve as a mirror at every stage of the process. If there is an opportunity to have more than one guide, that can also be a good sign, because every vocation is a sacred story, and communal discernment is always a gift of the Spirit, even though the decision and freedom are always personal.