Displaced
In my Father’s house there are many rooms; if it were not so, I would not have told you. I am going there to prepare a place for you. John 14:2
What do you think of when you hear the word homeless? Do you picture a person with his/her life strapped to their back? Are you sympathetic? Or are you of the camp that says they put themselves there, so what? What about a group of people who have a place to lay their head every single night of the year? People who have plenty of food, clothing, and amenities, and in some cases far too many accoutrements. Can those people be homeless? The obvious answer seems to be no, doesn’t it? Wrong.
A few years ago I noticed that one of our students never talked about home. She lived with her father, “my dad’s house” and visited her mother, “my mom’s house.” She was a rather needy child and it bothered me, no it broke my heart that she didn’t seem to have a home. At least she wasn’t sure enough to call either place home.
In the last few years I’ve heard more and more children speak of mom’s and dad’s houses but not so much home. Unfortunately three of those children are my own grandchildren, two different sets of parents, two very different circumstances. Three out of four of the parents involved in creating my grandchildren’s lives fall into the doing the best they can in a difficult situation variety and one does nothing at all.
I just wonder about the children who live here but visit there. At worst there are the parents who argue over everything down to the child’s belongings. They talk about mom and dad’s clothes, toys, shoes, etc. What belongs to which parent? Hello! Shouldn’t it all belong to the child? I hear parents talk about dad’s time and mom’s time. What about the child’s time? When does the child get to choose? Even in the best situations, even with parents who hate the situation and do whatever they can to make it work, it is easy to see how the children can begin to feel like they have dual citizenship in two very disparate countries. Where do they really belong?
All of us need a sense of home. We want to know that there is a place we can go that is sure and stable, that our stuff is there and that we are always welcome. For various reasons my three angels who have split home situations have all spent quite a bit of time in our home. One of them asked us once to promise not to “change houses.” I guess it seemed to him that everyone else was always moving and he wanted to know that we would always be there, at “home.”
My heart breaks for all those children but I wonder will it be easier for them to turn to God? Thinking about this I thought of how great God is to us. He not only provides a home for us here, he has planned our eternal home. Once we know him, truly know him we can rest assured that we always have a home. We know that our Father loves us and is not going to leave or forsake us. There is nothing transitory about our relationship with him. Mom’s night, dad’s weekend, it doesn’t matter. Our place in his heart is secure and because of that we have someplace to call our home.
It is too early to see how this back and forth will impact these children’s lives. It may make them stronger. I don’t know. I do know that it breaks my heart to hear any child saying “mom’s” or “dad’s” house and not home. It may be simple semantics but I’ve already seen some fallout. My hope for all of them is that they come to know a love that never fails and a home that is always their own.
What do you think of when you hear the word homeless? Do you picture a person with his/her life strapped to their back? Are you sympathetic? Or are you of the camp that says they put themselves there, so what? What about a group of people who have a place to lay their head every single night of the year? People who have plenty of food, clothing, and amenities, and in some cases far too many accoutrements. Can those people be homeless? The obvious answer seems to be no, doesn’t it? Wrong.
A few years ago I noticed that one of our students never talked about home. She lived with her father, “my dad’s house” and visited her mother, “my mom’s house.” She was a rather needy child and it bothered me, no it broke my heart that she didn’t seem to have a home. At least she wasn’t sure enough to call either place home.
In the last few years I’ve heard more and more children speak of mom’s and dad’s houses but not so much home. Unfortunately three of those children are my own grandchildren, two different sets of parents, two very different circumstances. Three out of four of the parents involved in creating my grandchildren’s lives fall into the doing the best they can in a difficult situation variety and one does nothing at all.
I just wonder about the children who live here but visit there. At worst there are the parents who argue over everything down to the child’s belongings. They talk about mom and dad’s clothes, toys, shoes, etc. What belongs to which parent? Hello! Shouldn’t it all belong to the child? I hear parents talk about dad’s time and mom’s time. What about the child’s time? When does the child get to choose? Even in the best situations, even with parents who hate the situation and do whatever they can to make it work, it is easy to see how the children can begin to feel like they have dual citizenship in two very disparate countries. Where do they really belong?
All of us need a sense of home. We want to know that there is a place we can go that is sure and stable, that our stuff is there and that we are always welcome. For various reasons my three angels who have split home situations have all spent quite a bit of time in our home. One of them asked us once to promise not to “change houses.” I guess it seemed to him that everyone else was always moving and he wanted to know that we would always be there, at “home.”
My heart breaks for all those children but I wonder will it be easier for them to turn to God? Thinking about this I thought of how great God is to us. He not only provides a home for us here, he has planned our eternal home. Once we know him, truly know him we can rest assured that we always have a home. We know that our Father loves us and is not going to leave or forsake us. There is nothing transitory about our relationship with him. Mom’s night, dad’s weekend, it doesn’t matter. Our place in his heart is secure and because of that we have someplace to call our home.
It is too early to see how this back and forth will impact these children’s lives. It may make them stronger. I don’t know. I do know that it breaks my heart to hear any child saying “mom’s” or “dad’s” house and not home. It may be simple semantics but I’ve already seen some fallout. My hope for all of them is that they come to know a love that never fails and a home that is always their own.
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