We recently started a ritual of watching Friday night movies with the kids, and in our quest to find suitable movies, my husband and I remembered an old classic from our own childhoods: Homeward Bound. Each week, my oldest child—who is four and who obsesses over all things Lightning McQueen—practically begs us to watch Homeward Bound again and again. Since January, when this ritual began, we’ve seen it no less than six times, with Friday being our most recent viewing. In case you’ve never seen the movie (or in case you need a refresher), Homeward Bound is the story of three “homeward bound” pets lost in the Sierra Nevada wilderness after their family boards them at a friend’s ranch during a temporary relocation to San Francisco.
There’s a particularly moving scene in the movie where the animals help a little girl that’s also lost in the wilderness. They alert a search party of her whereabouts, and in return, the pets are brought to an animal shelter where their family members are supposed to pick them up. Unfortunately, the pets think they are trapped at the pound, and they run off in a slapstick chase right before the family arrives to bring them home. The near miss is a devastating plot twist, but I’ve always sort of rejoiced with the pets at their clever escape. On this last viewing, however, I realized that even though we—the audience—know the humans at the shelter were trying to help, the animals do not and they likely never will.
Isn’t that the stuff of life? Chance, Shadow, and Sassy (the Homeward Bound pets) were almost rescued. They felt like they were trapped, but in reality, they were in the process of being liberated. In fact, if they had stayed put, they would never have had to walk through the final obstacle of the movie—the scene we all remember if we’ve seen it: Shadow in a mud pit, leg broken from his fall, unable to climb out. It’s the climax of the movie, but it’s a climactic moment that didn’t have to happen.
Last week, I went to an event at my church, and the speaker referenced Moses’s final speech to the Israelites—a passage where he is recounting the people’s journey through the wilderness (a story not unlike the plot of Homeward Bound). “You’ve been traveling around this hill country long enough,” God says, “turn north.” (Deuteronomy 2:3) This passage harks back to Numbers 14, which is a climactic scene where God ultimately pardons the Israelites for a rebellion against him but not before sentencing an entire generation to wander in the wilderness. It’s yet another one of those “dark before the dawn” kind of moments. The Israelites rebelled because they felt trapped, much like Chance and Shadow and Sassy. God was about to hand the Promised Land over to them in a remarkable showdown of weak versus strong, but the Israelites were afraid of the Canaanites who lived in the land. They refused to enter, and as a punishment, they were made to wander around the hill country for forty years. It’s an experience that wouldn’t have happened had the Israelites trusted God to keep his promise to deliver them into the Promised Land; on the other hand, it’s also an experience that has shaped the faith experience of Jews and Christians for centuries.
Hindsight is twenty-twenty, and I know that in our own circumstances, we often have to make decisions without knowing the full story. Are we about to be trapped or are we about to be liberated? Sometimes we just don’t know. Sometimes, like the pets in Homeward Bound, we may never know the effects of our choices. But there’s a common end in these two stories, and it’s a joyful one, one that I hope proves to be true for each of us: you see, despite the twists and turns of their experiences, both the Israelites and that beloved, domesticated trio arrived home in the end.
Whatever circumstances we currently face, whatever uncertainties lie ahead, may we remember that the God of all things will hold us steady, even when we falter, even when our trust wavers, as we make our own long journey home.
Jenica
Ordinary Joy
Words of Jubilee
A Liturgy for the Ritual of Morning Coffee
Meet me, O Christ,
in this stillness of morning.
Move me, O Spirit,
to quiet my heart.
Mend me, O Father,
from yesterday’s harms.From the discords of yesterday,
resurrect my peace.
From the discouragements of yesterday,
resurrect my hope.
From the weariness of yesterday,
resurrect my strength.
From the doubts of yesterday,
resurrect my faith.
From the wounds of yesterday,
resurrect my love.Let me enter this new day,
aware of my need,
and awaketo your grace,
O Lord.Amen.
— from Every Moment Holy
A Few Good Things
While I don’t own a physical copy of this book, Every Moment Holy, I really love using their app, where you can read selected liturgies for free. Some are long, congregational style readings, and others—like the one above—are short prayers.
My kids and I hardly ever make it through a week without singing this song from the movie Oliver & Company. When writing a post that features heavily on animals, it seems appropriate to include another favorite animal film.
I’m currently reading the novel Remarkably Bright Creatures—a Christmas gift from my sister. (Thanks, sis!) I’m only reading fiction for the month of May, and while I love reading nonfiction and memoir, man, is it refreshing to escape into a good story.
As always, thank you for reading. If you would like to contribute to the publication of this newsletter, you can use the link above to support my writing fund. This week’s edition was kindly provided by Lynn. Thank you! (And apologies for skipping a week.)