Thoughts about coming home

May 27, 2009. The day I entered the seminary. I told my self "Finally, I am home."

A week after that, all of us were sent home due to the AH1N1 crisis. I took a bus and hailed a cab going to Makati. I'm not used to traveling long distances carrying heavy baggage. After reaching our house I slumped at our couch. I told my self "Finally, I am home."

April 8, 2013. Two days after our graduation. I was sent out of the seminary. I packed my things around 2PM, went to the bus stop around four and traveled around five. I did not tell anyone that I was arriving, so all of them were surprised to see me carrying a bag (actually I was only carrying my laptop. I left all of my stuff in the seminary laundry area). I didn't talk to anyone that night, except to my self (fine, you can call me crazy). Before going to sleep I told my self "Finally, I am home."

No matter who we are, no matter where we go, we always look forward going home. Home is where the heart is. I always get amused whenever I see a "Home Sweet Home" signage posted on a door or wall. It's a constant reminder that the home is the best place to feel belonged. To better explain what I'm trying to say, let's take a closer look at the Tagalog equivalent tahanan. If we look a little closer, it comes from the word tahan, meaning to stop, to pacify or to calm down. Hence the home or the tahanan is the place to stop and to be at peace. If you're not at home (to be more precise, if you're not at peace) staying in a certain place for a prolonged period of time, then you don't truly belong there. Even prisoners who stayed in prison for a decade or two, once on parole, have that fear of going home. They fear that the people they have 'betrayed' will not anymore accept them, much more not anymore make them feel at peace, not anymore make them feel at home.

I learned the song 'Love is the answer' when I was still a freshman in the seminary. We sang it during the ordination of three Salesian priests. One line goes "After all the places I have been, I am going home." All of us are created to be somewhere, to belong somewhere, ultimately to belong to someone. The home is not only the place where the family resides. It is the place where your heart truly belongs.

When my father died two years ago, I told my rector that I was praying for my dad to come home alive from China (he suffered the attack there while on duty). Yes, he was able to come home alive. My family had another three months to spend with him before he passed away. During the wake, my rector shared what I told him. But he added "Maybe Christian was praying not only for his father to come home physically. Maybe Christian knows that his father's time is near, and I guess his ultimate wish is for his father to come home to the father's embrace peacefully."

Four years ago when I entered the seminary I felt God telling me "Christian, welcome home."

A few days later I found my self crying. I prayed and I felt God telling me "Christian, I think you need to go home." And true enough, a home visit was declared a week after.

After four years I was sent out of the seminary. My personal issues were taking its toll not only on me but also on my community members. I felt God telling me "You need to go back home."

And now I am back home, literally and metaphorically. I still miss the good old days of waking up at five in the morning, working at the farm in the afternoon and going to bed at ten. I remembered my crying sessions during the first two months of being back to the outside world. I found out from a friend who told one of his friends who left the seminary that "it (crying) is normal. Cry if you must. This is one ritual we humans do in order to heal our woundedness." The tears have stopped, and I guess the healing is already in process.

Natututo akong tumahan, sapagka't ako'y nasa aking tahanan.