Over my life, I’ve had various
places where I feel a hint of magical dust fall upon me. It’s usually when I’m
in nature or with those whom I love. I have a sense of peace. I am fully present. My
mind is not divided between different spheres of time, which is typically the future
for me. I feel the freedom to be me. Sometimes it’s when I’m sitting across
from a friend who seems to know my words before I do because they are feeling
right along with me. That’s home to me. I remember going for walks in Grand
Rapids and finding a quiet bench to sit and write while being surrounded by the
trees, the wind, the smell of cool air. That was home. Several years ago
I was driving home from a counseling session and I left knowing myself more,
figuring out who I was a bit more. That felt freeing. That felt like
home.
One of the hardest things for me as a
parent is how much my kids fight. I didn’t grow up in a family where we fought,
at least not outwardly. I have a personality (maybe we all do) where I do my best in a
safe, quiet, peaceful environment. Add kids to that. Yep, bye bye to all of
those things. If home can be a feeling of
acceptance, freedom, peace, and being known, then what are my 4 walls on Yale
Street? What can my kids expect about this environment as they walk out of the garage
and down the hallway to our kitchen? Is my home a place where mistakes are looked at as a learning opportunity or failure? Is my home a place where we can be goofy and won't be made fun of? Is my home a place where we don't have to have it all together and will not be lectured for being imperfect? I dream that the rooms in my house to be a
place where my kids belong. The world is tough, their days at school
can be challenging. Grace came home livid yesterday because of a situation that
happened at school. I want her to know that when she gets home, she will be
protected from the pain of the day. She will be comforted and listened too. No
more struggle, no more fighting to be noticed, no more having to prove herself.
She can find comfort on our couch and cry or laugh. She can be messy. She
can be real. She can be Grace. Home is where I want her to feel. To be.
I recently read that identity is
discovered in relationships. Our children are becoming aware of their bodies,
creating their own thoughts and opinions, becoming more of themselves as time
passes and settling into their own identity. They are transforming into who
they are and what they think of themselves. What I say or do when
Grace sits next to me with tears in her eyes and pain in her words, gives me
the opportunity to embrace her little being and to affirm. To love. To accept.
To encourage. Her identity is being formed daily in these 4 walls. What am I
saying that is shaping her self talk and what she things about herself?
If I had a genie, I think I would
ask that my kids never fight again. I want my home to be a
place where my kids would protect one another rather than fight for their own
personal gain. I desire my house to breath forgiveness and for my children to
fill their lungs with mercy. Who and what my kids think of themselves is
crucial. Maybe one of the most important things we can focus on. Not
some shallow self-esteem talk, but instead a deep sense of belonging and assurance
of who they have been created to be and how they are unique and can bring
goodness to this world. My hope is that my children experience more and more glitter
dust moments that create a safe haven for them. I want them to feel glimpses of being known and knowing
others. As they learn about themselves and become familiar with being
‘home’ I can then gently speak to my children and tell them to be ‘home’ to
those around them.
