Heading Home
I often wonder what it's like to have your own home. I have always been staying with my parents, or with friends or other family members. I used to even have a backpack for an overnight stay or maybe two or three days clothes with me. I was usually "mobile" and could stay with practically any of my friends, if I feel like visiting them. My folks had to move to Iloilo when I was in 2nd year College and well, after that, home was where I slept, at least for the night. I was not really attached to any of the houses I stayed in, but there were a few homes I felt more at peace. I guess the people who were in these homes made me feel more welcome, like I was really part of their family. I have never seen a perfect home or a perfect family situation. There were always some problem or another.
One home can be quite rich and beautiful and plush, but the parents were always away on business or some kind of work, and the maids and driver were the ones there for the children. There were other more humble homes near the river where the mother is the breadwinner, no father around, kids playing on the ground while the grandmother would be cooking. They seemed all happy and content this way. No electronic gadget around or air conditioning unit in the small hut, but the laughter is genuine and the people around are so friendly. They would most likely give up their bed and sleep on the floor when the guest arrives. There are also some "normal" homes where the father, mother and children gather around during meals - breakfast, lunch, dinner - especially during weekends. Those are happy memories of pancakes and milk or hot chocolate; some bananas or some other fruit on the table, and you help yourself with second servings.
I am not so good at remembering things, but I do remember people, especially kindness and genuine friendships. Family for me is never limited to blood relatives. These are people who are there when you are needy and unable to take care of yourself, they are the ones who pick you up after a bad day or a bad situation. They invite you to their homes to heal you and wipe your tears away.
I've met a lot of good people around. They come from all walks of life. They give out of their poverty, out of their abundance and sometimes yes, out of lack. One thing is common though, I was always welcome in their homes. Some Christmases and New Years were spent with such friendly faces. I chose to stay in Diliman to finish College, and well, that meant living away from my parents. It was probably not a good decision, but eventually, my wrong choices led me to the point of self destruction and by God's grace, redemption.
Do you know how it feels to be in total control of everything and actually believe you can conquer the world? Well, that was how I felt then. Little did I know that everything you accomplish and everything you have is actually nothing and insignificant without God.
I dream of having a place of our own. A home we can call our own. A sanctuary where no one can tell you that you have to go because you have to leave for another place. But you know what? Jesus said: "In my Father's house are many mansions. I will go there to prepare a place for you." Such a glorious promise!!! We have a home in heaven! A place we can call our own. There we will have such unspeakable joy and have everlasting peace! I await that day, when I can finally be with the Lord. But for now, I look forward to heading home. This time, we will have our own.