A Piece of Home

I love having kids around. While my own two kids were growing up, a number of kids found refuge within the walls of our home. Our family of four has a unique combination of personal characteristics that somehow causes people to immediately feel at home and comfortable around us. Maybe this is why so many kids were always in and out of our home. My daughter is a social butterfly who has never met a stranger and treats people as equals. My son is a wonderful listener who always infuses conversations with compassion. My wise and loving PK (preacher’s kid) husband always has a broad smile and open arms. As for me, I’m part June Cleaver, part Kool-Aid mom and part frazzled friend.

One of the kids who found a home with us was 16-year-old Thomas. He showed up at our doorstep one evening to take our daughter out. She had warned us beforehand to not be alarmed by his appearance. He had on heavy makeup (the purple eye shadow was especially memorable) and was dressed in clothing that was over-the-top, even for the 80s. But Thomas came into our home, behaved like a gentleman and immediately began to play with our litter of Dalmatian puppies.

Thomas continued to spend time in our home, and as we grew to know him over time, the makeup came off to reveal a bright young man who had recently lost his mom to cancer and was learning to cope without her. Sadly, Thomas only lived a couple of years after we met him. He died in a tragic accident while driving a delivery truck. But we’re grateful that we had that brief window of opportunity to get to know him and to give him a place where he could feel at home.

Next came Tiffany—a bright, friendly 15-year-old. I’ll never forget when I first saw her. We had arrived at her house to take her to church with us. Her look was edgy, but she couldn’t have had a sweeter heart. She came bouncing down the steps of her parents’ condo, full of cheer. “Yay, church!” she exclaimed, and she rarely missed a Sunday after that.

One day, her mother approached us and asked if Tiffany could live with us. They were moving out of state and didn’t want to uproot her from her school and friends. We were thrilled to have her live with us, and we made it work. Our daughter shared her room with Tiffany, and the girls didn’t even fight … at least not very often. We taught both of them to drive (yikes!). Tiffany was a beautiful dancer, and some of our fondest memories are of her practicing pirouettes across our large kitchen floor. After a year and a half, she joined her parents in their new home. Now she’s a mom of her own.

There has been a procession of other kids over the years: a pregnant girl whose mother had kicked her out; a boy whose dad wouldn’t let him grow up; the girl whose single mother was a flight attendant and was away for long periods of time. And now, as age and maturity have brought perspective, I’m beginning to grasp the significance of each relationship … when I wasn’t helping them, they were changing me! Through each of my experiences in extending God’s love to these kids, I learned greater depths of God’s love for me.

David wrote in Psalm 40:10: “I do not conceal your love and your faithfulness.” Because Christ lives within us, we cannot hide His righteousness when individuals approach us for acceptance. I encourage you to always be sensitive for opportunities where you can let His love come forth and enable you to meet whatever need He places before you.