Sue Badeau
“Do not let your
hearts by troubled . . . *“
Emerging into adulthood presents extra hurdles for youth who
grew up in foster care. While many amaze
us with their resilience in the face of incomprehensible odds, far too many
fall dramatically behind their peers.
Research provides staggering numbers to confirm the bleak facts but the
statistics belie the real story – behind each number is a real person with a
beating heart, thirsty soul and deep scars from multiple early life
traumas.
I speak often about these sobering facts, but it is hard to reveal
that one these “statistics” is my son.
After starting life in foster care, he joined our family through
adoption, bringing heavy baggage and countless scars. Our love, commitment, nurturing and
relentless prayers weren’t enough. As a
result of risky decisions and poor choices, he can’t safely live in our home,
nor successfully support himself - so he
lives on the streets.
This breaks my heart.
I cry out to God in anguished prayers on his behalf alternating between
grief and anger – anger at those who hurt him when he was small and helpless, anger
at him, now, as a young adult, for continuing to make poor choices, anger at
myself, anger at God . . .
While lost in these thoughts, I notice a recent photo, when
my son was here, at home. We’re hugging.
He’s smiling. He’s not “homeless,” I
realize. He’s “houseless.” He cannot live in this house, but he still
knows it is home. It – and we - are
always here for him. He can come by for
a hug, a smile, a cold drink of water, a word of comfort at times, or
admonishment at others. He has the hope
of home . . . . as he wrestles his demons, he has the hope of a home that will
always be available and this provides an anchor for him in life’s storms.
And I’m reminded that his situation is not much different
than mine. I have a home, a heavenly
home, where I cannot live at this time.
I can hope for it, long for it, catch glimpses of it from time to time,
but as a result of sin – I cannot live there . . . yet. I can
“drop by” for a hug, or drink of cool water from my Father, but for now, I must
remain on the streets of this earthly realm.
I know it breaks His heart when I turn away from Him, returning to the
streets, just as it breaks my heart when my son returns to the mean streets of
Philadelphia.
And yet, I know I am not homeless. My home is promised, prepared for me and my
room is paid for! My Father is waiting with love and longing to welcome me
home. What a magnificent hope! I pray that this hope – of an eternal home,
where noone is turned away – will truly penetrate my heart, my son’s, and each
person in a condition of “houselessness” here on earth.
“In My Father’s house are many dwelling places . . . . I go
and prepare a place for you . . . I will come again and
receive you that where I am there you may be also.” (*excerpts from John
14:1-4, NASB)
Be sure to leave your comment for a chance to win a copy of her new book. Winner will be drawn on Saturday, September 7, 2013. You can find out more about the Badeau family on their website. You can contact Sue to speak at your event, www.suebadeau.com
Our Featured Resource: Order a copy of Sue and Hector's book from Amazon:
Be sure to leave your comment for a chance to win a copy of her new book. Winner will be drawn on Saturday, September 7, 2013. You can find out more about the Badeau family on their website. You can contact Sue to speak at your event, www.suebadeau.com
Our Featured Resource: Order a copy of Sue and Hector's book from Amazon:
