“Lord, please bring to completion the good work You have begun in me.”
The verse from the Letter to the Philippians 1:6 has slowly become the prayer that accompanies my life. I whisper it in moments of quiet and carry it with me to the altar each time I take part in the Holy Mass. It is a prayer of trust and longing, one that expresses the deepest desire of my heart. Looking back now, I recognize it as the thread that has gently woven together my vocation journey—a journey God has patiently guided since my earliest years.
I was born and raised in Nam Đàn, a small town in central Vietnam, in a Catholic family of six. As the eldest of four siblings, I grew up in a home where faith was lived simply but sincerely. Our days were shaped by family prayer, Sunday Eucharist, and the steady witness of my parents and grandparents. Their quiet faith did not draw attention to itself, yet it formed the soil in which my own love for God and the Church took root—almost unnoticed at first, but deep and enduring.
When I was eight years old, my parents entrusted me to the care of our parish priest, and I began living at the parish. That moment marked the first decisive turning point in my vocational story. For the next ten years, from childhood into young adulthood, the parish became my home. I served at the altar, took part in parish activities, and lived close to the daily rhythm of church life. The sanctuary, the silence of prayer, and the ordinariness of priestly ministry left an imprint on my heart that words can hardly capture.
Each summer and during the Lunar New Year, missionary priests would visit our parish and share stories of their work in distant places. They spoke of proclaiming the Gospel amid poverty, hardship, and unfamiliar cultures. Listening to them, something stirred within me. A simple dream took shape in the heart of a young boy: one day, I want to be a missionary priest. The call came quietly, like a whisper, yet it was strong enough to endure and to grow, accompanying me through my university years in the city.
During those years, I remained actively involved in the Catholic student community. I attended Mass regularly, shared in reflections on the Word of God, and participated in charitable activities. Even amid the busyness and distractions of urban life, a quiet flame of dedication to God continued to burn within me. In 2011, I graduated from Nghean College with a bachelor’s degree in Tourism Management.
Soon after graduation, however, my family faced serious financial difficulties. As the eldest child, I felt a deep responsibility toward my parents and younger siblings. I made the painful decision to place my religious vocation on hold in order to support my family. I began working as a hotel manager and tour guide. The job was stable, the income sufficient, and the future seemed secure. Yet, after every Mass, a familiar restlessness returned. Many nights, I found myself asking, “Lord, what do You want me to do with my life?”
At times, I tried deliberately to silence the call, hoping to shape my future according to my own plans. But the more I tried to forget it, the stronger the desire to give my life to God became.
Torn between the security of a career and the quiet persistence of vocation, I chose a path that appeared far removed from religious life. In 2014, I went to Taiwan for work, continuing to support my family and believing that my dream of religious life had finally come to an end. Yet God, in His providence, was preparing another way.
Alongside my work in Taiwan, I attended Sunday Mass at St. Vincent de Paul Church in Gangshan. Gradually, I became involved in parish life. It was there that the call I had tried so hard to silence awakened once more. I began speaking with the parish priest, Fr. Paul Pham, about my questions regarding vocation, spirituality, and mission. When he shared with me about the Congregation of the Mission—a community dedicated to evangelization and the service of the poor—I experienced a deep sense of clarity and peace. In that moment, I knew this was the path that God was inviting me.
After months of prayer and discernment, I expressed my desire to join the Congregation of the Mission. While continuing my work, I accompanied Fr. Paul to Holy Mass in various communities and sub-stations, visited the sick, and participated in pastoral and charitable ministries. In 2016, I was introduced to Fr. Kusno Bintoro, CM, and was officially welcomed into the Chinese Province of the Congregation of the Mission.
Looking back, I now understand that a vocation is truly a mystery—a mystery of God’s providence, as St. Vincent de Paul so often reminded his followers. The desire planted in my heart as a child was never extinguished, even though the path toward it was marked by detours, delays, and uncertainty. I have come to believe deeply that God’s thoughts are not our thoughts, and it is precisely through this difference that He gently leads us toward what He has prepared from the beginning.
In 2017, I returned to Vietnam to begin my philosophical studies at Durando Institute of Philosophy and Theology in Da Lat. After completing Philosophy in 2019, I was sent to the Philippines for English language studies and pre-internal seminary formation. Six months later, the COVID-19 pandemic disrupted everything. Schools closed, seminaries sent students home, and I returned once again to Vietnam, living at the Vincentian Seminary in Đà Lạt. When conditions improved, I resumed my formation in the Philippines. Later, due to continued travel restrictions, the Provincial permitted me to enter the Internal Seminary in Vietnam, where I made my Bons Propos in 2022. Afterward, I returned once more to the Philippines to continue my formation.
My vocation journey has not followed a straight line. It has been shaped by family responsibilities, years of work far from home, unexpected transitions, and even a global pandemic. Yet through every seeming obstacle, I have come to recognize the quiet and faithful presence of God. What once appeared uncertain now reveals itself, in hindsight, as a clear path within God’s loving plan. I am convinced that a vocation is not a human project, but God’s own initiative.
Today, as a third-year theology seminarian at St. Vincent’s School of Theology in Quezon City, Manila, I experience God’s mercy revealed in His patient gaze, His compassionate heart, and in every event of my journey. All of this can be summed up in the words of St. Vincent de Paul: “Love is inventive to infinity.” God’s love never stands still; it never remains only in words, but continually finds new ways to guide, sustain, and lead.
I am deeply grateful to God for my vocation in the Congregation of the Mission and, as a member of the Chinese Province, for the grace of living out my childhood dream of missionary service to the poor. I ask only for one thing: the grace of fidelity—that each day I may belong more fully to the Lord, and that He may indeed bring to completion the good work He has begun in me.
