I know no one here but You, Lord.
You've been with me even before my mother conceived me in her womb.
You saw me grow my limbs and teeth, heard my first words,
and witnessed how I slowly let go of the things that support me
so I can walk on my own.
And I'm glad to see You here, where I am.
Where even my mother cannot be,
or my father, and my sisters,
or my friends.
I wake up each day to walls I'm not familiar with,
eat my meals on a bigger table,
and live with people I met just a month ago.
But Lord, whenever I face the heavens,
and watch the clouds in the sky,
I feel home.
Whenever I look at You
through the San Damiano cross,
I feel a comforting presence,
I feel home.
During dark nights,
while I lie in my bed,
confused, lonely, and afraid,
I hold on to my rosary,
and I feel home.
I wonder, Lord, if
by the time the world mars
the beauty of the sky,
termites eat the wooden cross,
and my rosary wears and tears,
will I still feel home?
"And remember, I am with you always,
to the end of the age." - Matthew 28:20
