When I Think Of Home

Thank God it's Friday!  I mean it.  This week has been all sorts of crazy.  First my niece who visited from Texas had such troubles getting out of Ohio.  Her flight was delayed a couple of times. Her original flight was supposed to leave around 2pm then due to weather issues in the South it got moved to 3:30 then 4:30 then it got cancelled so they re-routed her to a flight that was supposed to leave at 9pm then it got delayed to 10:45 then to 11pm.  So I just told her to re-book her flight for the following day, we picked her back up from the airport and she finally got to fly home the following day. Poor girl.

Then the baby got sick. He's still sick.

Then today we buried our dear Fr. Pendolphi.  The Mass was beautiful.  The homily was personal, funny and beautiful, it was delivered by Father's best friend.  He had us laughing and crying. I always thought Father Pendolphi was funny but I had no idea that he had an epic sense of humor.  It was such a good reminder to my children (and myself) that laughter and faith go together.  In the words of St. Teresa of Avila, "from sour-faced saints, good Lord, deliver us!"

I really thought it would feel weird to go back to our old parish but it wasn't.  It still felt like home. Father Dinovo was so kind, he told us we are always welcome and encouraged us to visit often.  We got to visit with old friends, priest friends, deacon friends, the Bishop and our coach/neighbor who catered the luncheon. I felt at home.  It's good to be home in the Catholic Church.

Tomorrow is another special day.  Our friends will celebrate the baptism of their two adopted children. They too will make their home in the Catholic Church. I don't typically cry at baptisms of friends but I might cry tomorrow :-)  Part of the crying will be because said friends are moving to Texas in August.

Sunday is also going to be a special day.  A friend is having a personal/baby shower.  She's pregnant with the fifth child so the shower is more for her than the baby.  I can't wait.  It's always a treat when I get to hang out with just the girls.

So all this week I've been thinking about home. Having lived in the West for more than 20 years I have sometimes felt lost - not (always) eating my own food, speaking my own language, not being among my people.  But upon closer reflection, I have come to realize that the Lord has been generous in providing me a home in the (Universal) Church. From the Philippines to Canada to the US, the Lord has seen to it that I have a home. A home amongst people of the same faith. They might not eat my food, speak my language or have the same skin color but we speak the same language of the Church. And the events of this week continues to reinforce that Divine generosity.  The Lord is home, the Church is home, the domestic church is home. I am home.  Hopefully, I will one day merit the eternal home.

So the next time you hear me complain about not being at home, feel free to point out my domestic church (laundry and all) or send me to the next Mass or homeschool event ;-)

St. Michael students line up the path as the funeral coach that carried Father's body pass by

two of our favorite priests look on 

"Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life; and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord forever." - Psalm 23:6