New Year, New Heart

by Seneca Moraleda-Puguan

Where has time gone?

This time last year, we were in Switzerland, believing God for an open door to stay in a land we had grown to love. We were hopeful, settled, and quietly dreaming of a future that finally seemed to make sense.

Fast forward a year later, and we are back in the land where we came from- uncertain of what lies ahead, still believing in open doors elsewhere, and still learning how to hold hope with open hands.

2025 may have been a year of broken dreams, but it was also a year of new beginnings and new experiences for our family.

It was a year that reminded us that God’s answers do not always look the way we imagine them to.

Now, as we step into 2026, we look forward to greater things, uncertain as ever as they may seem, yet anchored in the truth that God is faithful, even when the path feels unclear.

It has been half a year since we’ve been back in the Philippines. Though almost half of that time was spent in Australia (except for my husband, who was only able to stay for three weeks because of his Balik-Scientist stint at the University of the Philippines), we are still trying to find our footing.

We are still learning how to adjust, even though we spent half of our lives growing up in this country. Returning home, it turns out, is not always simple. Familiar places can feel foreign, and home can feel like something you have to relearn.

There are still moments when my heart aches because we were uprooted from a country that seemed to have everything we wanted: order, stability, opportunity, ease.

There are still times when I question why we had to leave when things were already good where we were. I don’t always get answers to these questions.

Instead, I am reminded again and again that God is sovereign, that His ways are higher than mine, and that He is at work even when I do not understand what He is doing.

As 2026 began, I poured out my heartbreak to the Lord. I did not ask for immediate solutions or clear timelines. I asked Him to work on my heart.

I pray that this year, while we wait, we will learn to love this nation again- despite the discomforts and inconveniences it brings.

I pray that God would soften the parts of my heart that have grown weary or critical, and that He would teach me how to see with gratitude instead of comparison.

I pray that He would open my eyes to the beauty of this country as we visit family and friends across different cities and provinces: the mountains and seas, the long roads, the familiar chaos that somehow carries its own rhythm.

I pray that my heart would be opened once more to the wonder of its people: in conversations with drivers, doctors, vendors, neighbors, and strangers I encounter every day.

People who, despite the struggles they carry, continue to show resilience, warmth, humor, and generosity. People who reflect God’s image in ways that are quiet, ordinary, and profound.

Loving one’s country is not always easy.

Sometimes it means choosing faith over frustration, patience over disappointment, and hope over cynicism.

Sometimes it means staying present where God has placed us, even when our hearts are tempted to look elsewhere.

This year, my prayer is simple: may my love for my country be restored, a love that trusts that He has placed us here for a reason, for a season, and for a purpose greater than we can see.

As I step into this new year, I hold on to the promise found in Ezekiel 36:26: “I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit within you.”

Perhaps this season is not about finding the right place, but about allowing God to reshape my heart where I am. And if He can give me a new heart, then He can also teach me how to love this nation again by faith, in humility, and with hope.

New year, new heart.