The suns rays, multiplied by their reflection off the snow, shone brightly on my Ray-Bans as we slowly climbed towards the peak. I could hear little besides my own breath. My heavy boots sunk into the clean, white powder, which in a few hours would give my friends and I the ride of our lives. This was avalanche country. Just a few weeks ago a snowmobiler had been lost further up in the valley. But we were used to the danger and in our youthful enthusiasm were unafraid. This is the life, I thought to myself.

Skiing had become one of the passions of my life ever since my dad moved the family from our native Texas to Anchorage, Alaska. From day one we all began cross-country skiing and during 7^th and 8^th grades, I had come in first and second place, respectively, on the cross-country ski team. When I began home schooling in 9^th grade (my two best friends also began home schooling) I left racing and started to dedicate myself to backcountry skiing with my friends. Our goal was to find higher and higher cliffs to jump off of, and film it if possible!

            My family always was very Catholic. Sunday Mass was never optional and monthly confession was a family outing. We also attended different activities at Church and prayed the rosary daily. Many priests and nuns were family friends. My mother always prayed that one of her three daughters or two sons would be blessed with a vocation. She also worked to instill in all of us the idea that everybody has a vocation, be it to the priesthood or consecrated life or to marriage or the single state. She always told us that we had to pray in order to find out what God wants.

My great interest in girls convinced me that marriage was my vocation. I met my first girlfriend at age fourteen and thereafter always had one and sometimes two. My parents didnt allow dating until sixteen. On my sixteenth birthday I got my drivers license and my relationships started to become more serious. Most of the girls I went out with were Catholic. If they werent, I knew it wasnt going to be something permanent. But wherever I went - vacations, pro-life conferences, ski-races, or the local swimming pool - I ended up meeting a pretty girl. It didnt always turn out to be love at first sight, but sometimes it was.

            And so life on the last frontier, as Alaskans call it, continued through high school. At thirteen I started my first job at a local retreat house. It was only about fifteen minutes from home on bike - my only transportation, summer and winter. It consisted in washing dishes, pots and pans; and in helping prepare some of the meals on the weekends. For a first job it paid fairly well and kept me out of the house and trouble too. Mom was grateful for that especially since my discipline at home was never very good. I was in some ways involved in every sibling fight. Outsiders always got the impression that I was mature and serious but mom simply wondered how they could possibly think that. Things got to the point that one day she asked my grandfather how to control a teenage son who was always fighting. He answered, Get him a job. I already had one and so that meant a second job. My mom called around and I took a second job at the greenhouse some family friends owned. That kept me pretty busy throughout most of the spring and summer, and Christmas vacation.

            I met a Legionary priest, Fr. Kermit Syren, for the first time during my junior year in high school. He had been ordained in 1991 by Pope John Paul II with a group of 59 other Legionaries. Since we knew his family well we were all invited to his first mass at the cathedral in Anchorage. His faith in the true presence of Christ in the Eucharist impressed me but nothing else changed in my life.

After that, my father, who had always kept his job in spite of frequent lay-offs in the oil business, opted for severance and we returned to Texas. My mother never wanted to go to Alaska in the first place, so she was quite happy to return. Shortly after we moved to Austin in May of 1993, we attended a Human Life International Conference in Houston. At the Conference my Mom ran into some Legionaries. She promptly invited them over for dinner. She also invited some other families to drop in after dinner to watch a video about the Legion. I tried to make it clear to Father that I wasnt particularly interested in the priesthood. I dont think I did a very good job: he invited me to the summer introductory course at the Immaculate Conception Apostolic School in New Hampshire, due to begin in a few months. I also had an invitation from my parish priest in Anchorage. I decided to accept the invitation of my parish priest and so my brother Brandon and I lived with him for 5 weeks during that summer and we got to know what the life of a diocesan priest was like.

            God was definitely working in my soul. Since I was home schooled I could attend Mass three or four times a week. And my new and more favorable environment helped me calm down a bit. I took a part-time job at a dental office (the dentist was another family friend) in Austin. I continued my social life, mostly with girls since they were easier to meet than guys in my circumstances. I was in my last year of high school and had to decide what to do when I graduated.

After every communion I knelt down and fervently asked God to show me his will for my life. Then I surprised my Mom by telling her I wanted to accompany her during the Eucharistic adoration she did once a week. That was where I finally heard the call. I was looking straight at Christ in the host, and I gave him an ultimatum: Do you want me to be a priest or not? No bright light penetrated the chapel; I didnt hear claps of thunder, but before I left I was certain I heard a yes. Yes! I knew what that meant giving up, but how could I say no to God? OK, I replied, Ill do it. I will be a priest. I didnt decide to join the Legion immediately, but nobody else seemed to show active interest in me. So I decided to go to the summer candidacy program after I graduated.

Breaking up with my last girlfriend wasnt easy. Neither was it easy to leave behind my Diamond Back mountain bike. But I only shed a tear when the Greyhound bus started pulling out of the station and I waved good-bye to my family. Many people had believed me when I told them that it was only a test, that I was just going to try it out for a few months. But that tear didnt lie, even if only I saw it. My parents were happy, but I know my Mom shed a lot more tears. A year before my dad had been the one to suggest that I wait and finish off my last year of high school at home, and since I had been afraid to leave home so quickly, I readily heeded his advice. Mom finally had her prayers answered, even if she had never imagined that her first son, the one who was always fighting with his siblings, would be the priest. Two years later Brandon also tried the Legion and a year after that my youngest sister, Amber, consecrated her life to Christ in the Regnum Christi Movement.

Now ten years have passed and I have made my perpetual vows of poverty, chastity and obedience. Christ called me to follow him in the priesthood, and that call is eternal, because his love is eternal. How could I not be happy?