For years, Kim Elaine José de Araujo kept her middle name secret, embarrassed that she was given a man’s name, the patron saint of her family. It all changed when circumstances led her to reflect on who this quiet, gentle saint really was
I had just moved to the UK. On the outside, everything looked fine but inside, I felt deeply alone. A new country, new faces, and the quiet weight of starting over.
One afternoon, I found myself sitting with a priest, sharing everything I had been holding in. He listened patiently, then asked me a simple question that caught me off guard:
“Who is your Confirmation saint?”
I didn’t have one. Coming from Goa, it wasn’t something we had done. So he gently asked again, “Do you have a family saint?” And instantly, I knew.
St. Joseph.
He was our family saint. He was also my middle name. A name I had hidden for years, even feeling embarrassed that it was a man’s name.
The priest encouraged me to reflect on Joseph in the Old Testament. As I did, I began to see my own story in his. Far from home, uncertain, yet somehow still being carried through it all.
And slowly, it dawned on me: just as God had never abandoned Joseph, He hadn’t abandoned me either. In that moment, something shifted.
What I had once rejected… was actually a gift.
As I reflected more on the Old Testament Joseph, I felt drawn to get to know St. Joseph of the New Testament. Here was a man who never spoke a single recorded word in Scripture, yet his life spoke so clearly. Through faith, obedience and quiet strength.
The more I read about this Saint, without even realising it at first, something began to change in me. I found myself wanting to spend more time with God. Wanting to serve Him more. I didn’t know what that would look like, so I simply prayed:
“If this is Your will, make a way.”
And He did.
When Pope Francis announced a Year of St. Joseph, it felt so personal. Like a quiet confirmation in my heart. I consecrated myself to St. Joseph, and from that point on, things slowly began to shift.
I started praying for two things in particular: a husband who loved God and a life where I could serve Him more deeply.
But St. Joseph didn’t rush to answer. Instead, he prepared my heart. He taught me patience. He taught me trust. And then, in his own quiet way… those prayers were answered.
I was led into serving within the Church. What started as a small desire to help confirmation candidates became part of my everyday life. Not long after, I met my husband. A man whose love for Our Lady beautifully complements my devotion to St. Joseph.
Even in the small, practical details of life, I could see God’s hand at work. At the time, we could only afford a home far outside London. Commuting to work was difficult. During our commute, we would pass a church dedicated to Our Lady and St. Joseph.
Every time, I would whisper a simple prayer, “Lord, it would be so good to live closer to work… and so beautiful to be near a church like this.” We live just behind that very church today. I can walk to Mass in three minutes.
Looking back, St. Joseph didn’t transform my life in loud or dramatic ways. He did it quietly. Gently. Faithfully. He showed me that God is never absent, especially in the silence.
So if there’s one thing I would say, it’s this: Go to Joseph. Bring him your hopes, your desires, your questions about life and your vocation. Because sometimes, the most beautiful things God is doing are the ones that are hidden.
