by fr.JLucas, 10th June 2026

As a boy, my career goals changed almost as often as my appetite. Some days I wanted to be a chef, although my main qualification was eating whatever was put in front of me. Other days I wanted to be a teacher, which I practised as a Sunday School teacher. Then came the dream of becoming a priest, though I wasn’t entirely convinced because I was never one of the top students in school. In my mind, priests knew everything.

Thankfully, God has a habit of calling people who don’t fit their own expectations.

Today, I find myself a priest, a teacher, and living in a foreign land.

This month marks two years since I was assigned as Priest-in-Charge of St. Patrick’s. Yet I have been at Holy Trinity High School since my ordination. To be honest, it was not my first choice. But God often writes better stories than the ones we plan for ourselves.

When I first arrived at Holy Trinity, I was overwhelmed. The culture shock was real. I came with standards and expectations that quickly collided with reality. I soon realised that before I could teach these students, I first needed to know them.

So I spent time building relationships.

Then, after two years, I was asked to teach. At that point I thought I had figured the students out.

I laugh at that now.

Even today, they continue to educate me.

Teaching Religious Education to Grade Seven students and HFLE to Grade Eight students has opened my eyes to the world many of them carry within. Their questions are not always found in textbooks.

“Why should I respect a father who wasn’t there for me?”

“Why should I listen to adults when adults keep disappointing me?”

These are life questions. Questions born from experience, pain, confusion, and sometimes courage. They remind me that ministry is often less about having answers and more about being present.

Of course, not every day is inspiring. Balancing parish life and school life can be exhausting. There are days when I feel drained and wonder whether I am making any difference at all.

Then a student says, “Thank you, Father.”

Or a smile appears after a difficult conversation.

Or a young person shares something deeply personal because they finally feel safe.

Those moments preach louder than any homily.

One of the joys of this ministry has been introducing community service and days of recollection. The students may complain at first. In fact, if complaining were an Olympic sport, we would probably have several gold medalists.

Yet, by the end, something changes. They begin to see others differently. They begin to see themselves differently.

And so do I.

Many of our students carry burdens heavier than their school bags. Home is not always peaceful. Family is not always stable. Life is not always fair. Yet I have witnessed incredible resilience, generosity, and hope among them.

I have also found myself surrounded by colleagues who care deeply for these children and give far more than their job descriptions require.

Every morning, despite the challenges, I find a reason to return.

Somewhere between the classrooms, the laughter, the difficult conversations, the recollections, and the endless questions from teenagers, I have discovered something unexpected.

I have found a home.

Not the home I planned for myself.

But certainly the one God had prepared for me.

This ending gives the reflection a gentle landing while keeping it personal, hopeful, and suitable for a blog or publication.