Have I not commanded thee? Be strong and of good courage; be not afraid, neither be thou dismayed: for the Lord thy God is with thee wherever thou goest.
Joshua 1:9

Johanna
My eyes drifted over the shadowed silhouettes of homes as the van sped along the quiet mountain road. The hum of the engine beneath me was steady, but my thoughts were anything but. I leaned my forehead against the cold glass window, watching the night blur past in streaks of moonlight and silence. My breath came out in slow, tired sighs.

Lord... what are You trying to tell me right now? What do You want me to do?

I kept whispering the prayer in my head like a lifeline, hoping somehow peace would finally come. But heaven stayed quiet, and my heart stayed heavy.

The vibration of my phone startled me, the screen flashing with an incoming call: Uncle Nestor.

I answered, trying to sound more awake than I felt. "Hello?"

"Aginaya!" My uncle's voice burst through, cheerful and warm in our native tongue. "I just got your message! I'm so glad you finally decided to come home. Why didn't you tell us earlier? Ina will be overjoyed to see you!"

I smiled faintly at the sound of his voice and the name only they called me—Aginaya. "It's been three years, Uncle... I missed everyone so much. And since it's our university's sports fest next week, I figured I wouldn't be missing much in school."

"Oh, good! Just text me once you arrive in Lagawe, alright? Do you have a lot of bags?"

"Not really. Just one—packed light."

"Okay then, we'll see you soon. Take care, Aggin."

I pulled the phone away slowly as the call ended. A small smile tugged at the corners of my lips. Finally. Home.

I leaned my head against the window again and closed my eyes. Lord, just let me rest tonight. No overthinking. Just... peace. And as the rhythm of the road lulled me, I drifted into sleep.

⸻

I blinked awake to the voice of the dispatcher announcing we'd arrived in Lagawe. Around me, some of the other passengers were already gathering their bags. The van door slid open, letting in the cold early morning air.

I checked my phone—and felt my heart sink.

Twelve missed calls. All from Melchour.

A pang echoed in my chest as the memories of last night came rushing back like a tidal wave. He was probably worried out of his mind. And truthfully, I hated how I left. But I didn't know what else to do. My emotions were overwhelming, my instincts louder than reason. I'd run—again. Just like I always did when things got too heavy.

It was a bad habit. I knew that. But I also knew I needed space.

Shake it off, Johanna, I told myself. You're in Ifugao now. Breathe. This is your time to heal.

The road turned narrower as we approached Banaue. I felt something shift inside me.

The air was crisp and familiar—the kind that wrapped around you like an old friend. Terraces layered the hills like ancient staircases carved into the soul of the earth. The morning sun lit the green of the grass in a way no city ever could.

My chest swelled. This is what home feels like.

⸻

"Oh!" My grandmother's voice broke through as I stepped down from the van. "Oh! I-it's my Ag-gin!" she cried in Tuwali, hurrying forward with arms wide open.

"Apu!" I ran into her embrace. Her scent was the same—woodsmoke, rice, and years of tender care.

"Yes, it's me, Apu. I missed you. How have you been?" I asked in our native tongue, my accent adjusting like it had never left.

"Oh... life's been the same," she replied, patting my back. "I just can't believe you're finally here. Three years is too long, Aginaya. I thought you'd forgotten us."

Her words stung a little. If only you knew, Apu... I would've come back sooner if I could—if I was allowed.

"There wasn't a day I didn't think of you," I said, and meant it. "Where's Julia and the others?" I asked, peeking past her shoulders.

"They've already gone ahead to the church," Uncle Nestor said, walking toward us with a smile. "They're leading the congregational singing today."

"Uncle!" I rushed to hug him. "It's so good to see you again."

"Welcome home, Aginaya." He said my name with pride.

"Wait—congregational singing? You mean... worship?" I asked, surprised.

"Yes, worship," he replied.

"You mean... you all are..." I trailed off, unsure if I heard right.

Grandma nodded. "It started three years ago. A group of pastors came here—led by a certain Pastor Fernando. They held a crusade. And that night... something changed. Your cousins never looked back. They joined the church the pastors planted here."

I stared at her, stunned. What? The last time I was here, my family still followed old traditions. This... this was a miracle.

"Wait, wait—Pastor Fernando?" I repeated. "What's his last name?"

"Fernando Aluyen," she said.

My eyes went wide. "No way!"

"Why? Do you know him?" Uncle asked, confused.

"He's my pastor. The Pastor Fernando. He's our senior pastor back in the city!"

They both looked as shocked as I felt.

"Really, Aggin? You go to church now?" Uncle asked.

I nodded with a huge grin. "Yes! I do! I've been growing in the Lord for two years now!"

Grandma's eyes welled with tears. I dropped to my knees beside her.

"Apu? What's wrong?"

She wiped her eyes as she spoke. "For the past two years, I've been praying for you. I didn't know where you were, or how you were doing. But every night, I lifted your name to the Lord. I asked Him to keep you safe—and to bring you to Him."

Tears blurred my vision as she sobbed.

"And now, hearing you say this..." Her voice broke. "It's like... God heard me. He really heard me."

I took her hands, pressing them to my heart. She never stopped praying for me. And I... I never even knew.

A joy unlike any other bloomed in my chest.

"Jesus... You are good. So, so good."

And for the first time in a long time...
I felt peace.

Ina- Tuwali term for Mother
Apu- Tuwali term for Grandmother
Lagawe- One of the municipalities of Ifugao.