Not my home

A month ago, I had the chance to return to Franciscan University. Those of you who went there might be jealous of a trip that would include a Festival of Praise, Lord’s Day with your household, and reuniting with sisters you hadn’t seen in 6-12 years.

As much as I loved the people and praise parts of the trip, I once again faced the extreme discomfort that once caused me to only spend one brief year on that campus. I never fully understood why I hated being on that campus, that ‘city on a hill’ that mostly only atheists could hate. What kept me from peace at such a holy place?

I always thought it was simply that at the time I was there as a student, being a student was not my vocation as others so proudly claimed. That couldn’t truly be the answer though, could it? Not when I felt that same way as a visitor.

As I sat at a young adult holy hour a week after I got home, God blessed me with an answer. “That, too, is not your home.” I am restless there, I am restless here, I am restless, as St. Augustine says, until my heart rests in You, my God.

I don’t mean to sound like I’m some holier than thou person who desires Heaven any more than the next person, but I think being on that campus reminds me that not even a place where so many people are fully participating in our Catholic faith, it is still so far from the full glory that awaits us in our true home. I feel it most strongly there, that gut wrenching distance still left to go to attain Heaven.

Lord, give us the grace to be patient to see you and be fully at rest. Help us to rejoice for those that get to join you, even if we are not ready to be without them. Amen.

 

 

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