Having a home

Tonight I watched The Hobbit for the first time. In one scene, Bilbo has mysteriously disappeared, and his companions assume that he has run away and returned to his town of Bag End to escape potential dangers and hardships. To everyone's surprise, he soon appears again and explains:

"I often think of Bag End. I miss my books and my armchair and my garden. See, that's where I belong. That's home. And that's why I came back... 'cause you don't have one. A home."

Hearing this, I felt a lump begin to rise in my throat and tears fill my eyes. I've been in the U.S. for just two short weeks, and the days have flown by. I've never been more grateful for little comforts and simple joys -- the familiarity of home.

Every once in a while I remember that my time here is limited; in less than one month I return to the Philippines for another year on mission serving on the island of Camiguin. And there is some part of me that fears this reality because it means leaving once again my beloved home.

But when I heard Bilbo's words, they reminded me of why I do want to return. For those who have no real "home" due to a broken family, who were abandoned by one or both parents at an early age and have had to grow up alone. For those whose homes are empty structures because they cannot afford bedding or a proper bathroom. For those whose homes are lacking the joy of the Gospel, the pure delight that it is to know Christ.

Because in the end, we are not missionaries to build an earthly kingdom, but a heavenly one. We are pilgrims on a journey, traveling toward our heavenly home. Like St. Paul explains, "We know that if our earthly dwelling, a tent, should be destroyed, we have a building from God, a dwelling not made with hands, eternal in heaven." (2 Cor 5:1)

Jesus, help me to be ready to leave everything behind at the moment You call. May I be filled with a holy indifference that will allow me to surrender my home and my family so that I can serve those who have no place to call home.