Whom have I in heaven but you? And there is nothing on earth that I desire besides you. My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.
Dear Friends,
Tennis legend John McEnroe’s words flashed through my mind: “You cannot be serious!” It was 11:30 p.m., I’d just returned after a very long day, my guestroom door was unexpectedly locked, and I did not have the key. There was only one solution: find a couch and drift off there.
The next day in prayer, I found myself wondering why such a small contretemps upset me. After all, I have a vow of poverty, and should, theoretically, relish opportunities to practice it. But, at the same time, I think there’s something in all of us that wants to feel settled, welcomed, at home.
This is not a bad desire: In fact, God wrote that desire into our hearts. And yet, that desire is never finally fulfilled in this life. We follow the one who said that “birds of the sky have their dwelling places, but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head” (Matthew 8:20). All our homes here on earth are never, ultimately, enough.
Might our experiences of displacement—from something as minor as being locked out of one’s room, to something much more serious—be invitations from the Lord to remember that our true home is with him? Is it possible that by holding our homes here lightly, our hearts are freed to truly welcome the Lord and, through his grace, to truly welcome others?
God bless you,
Fr. John Pietropaoli
