Safe Families: Where Christians, Christ, and Our Culture Intersect

God sets the lonely in families.
Psalm 68

    I am a Safe Families Host Mom. I am one of many moms in the Willamette Valley standing with Safe Families. Our families, stand with and for the orphan and the widow; we stand with the fatherless. Indeed, Safe Families and our families desire to push back fatherlessness, but we can only continue this work if the Church is standing behind us, and so I ask: Is the Church standing behind Safe Families?

    Our family joined Safe Families because Safe Families is Christ's power at work to prevent homelessness, divorce, drug addiction, abuse, and many other wounds that trouble our communities today. Let's face it, these wounds trouble our families.

    And we ask: Will today's children see the Church as relevant in their future? It's a very real fact that while generous, participating in backpack give aways, Sunday School, and coat collections will likely not be enough to keep my children focused on Jesus. The very lives Christ breathes into, so often are blown away by the winds of our cultures' brokenness. For many, current church programs are band aids on the wounds of the world, not radical acts of healing offering relational depth.

    Safe Families offers hope through Christ for families by families. Safe Families is Jesus' saving grace at work through Jesus' hands and feet: you and I.

   I'd like to invite you to look through the looking glass of some Safe Family Children we have hosted.

    I am Jose. My mother left me, and my father's in jail. Adults think my mom did drugs when she was pregnant with me. I'm seven, and I've been sexually abused by someone close to me. I'm too young to understand what happened, but I'm working on it. My doctor says I have ADD, and I take medicines to sleep at night and concentrate during the day. A Safe Family took me in for the weekend, so my aunt and uncle could go on their first date in three years. I played outdoors all weekend. We went for a hike at the Basket Slough, and I ate some new foods. I overcame fears, like the whirring of the bathroom fan, and I went to bed on my own. I didn't even cry myself to sleep; I was so tired. The boy I stayed with, we share the same birthday. They said it was one of those “God-things.” What's that?

    H.E.N.R.Y. I'm Henry, and I'm three. I talk a lot. I like words. I'm working on saying M.i.s.s.i.s.s.i.p.p.i. I can spell it, and one day I'll be able to say it too. I can count to 50, and I know all my letters and sounds. You said I was super bright. Did you mean like a light? I heard you talking about something called preschool at a nearby church. I'd love to go. I like to read! Could you tell mommy how to take me there? Here's my new book from Sunday School. It says, P.S.A.L.M. 9.1 on it. I like my name on my book! It's mine, but I'll share!

    I'm Gunnar. I'm the oldest brother in a bunch of boys; They are really my half brothers, but I love them a lot.

    I didn't see this coming. I didn't know about foster care and DHS. I'm glad a Safe Family offered to keep us.

    I was pretty anxious, but I did my best to hide it. I worked hard to use manners. I wanted to impress you. You treated me like one of your kids. I liked going to soccer with your son, and doing all the stuff you do. Thanks for listening and not laughing, when I cried about my mom. Thanks for telling me about all the problems your family has overcome. It made me feel okay.

    I am still wondering about a few things. Like, do I really need meds? My mom didn't mean to forget them when she packed us up and took us to the hospital with that note, but I learned I was okay without them, at least for awhile. Maybe some day I could go off them. I thought it was weird you don't have tv, but I did fall asleep without it. Listening to P.G. Wodehouse can make anyone fall asleep! I learned to pray, and I think God might actually listen to me.

    Thanks for taking Henry and I to church. I'd like to talk about that sometime. I hear Christians talk about getting saved. I don't really get it. You say it's when Jesus moves into your heart, but didn't Jesus save people with His hands and feet?

    Isaiah 58 calls us to repair broken down walls, and to be a restorer of streets to dwell in. Safe Families invites you, needs you and your Church to vote for Jesus with your hands and feet, not just your hearts, and to participate in the building and rebuilding of our streets and neighborhoods. This is Kingdom work, peace making work. If our children one day call the Lord blessed, if they dwell in peace, it will be because we put our hands and feet to the same tasks our Lord lived. 

*Shared at a Safe Families Faith Forum in Salem, Oregon July 2015 

Adventures in the Art of Dwelling

Dwell: To abide in a place with contentment and intentionality.

dwell: Consumed by a past sadness or pain. 
To daily battle against the past, that it might not become the present.

We are now shepherds. I don't feel prepared to lead little lambs, but they are here and they are ours. Living, breathing, beautiful creatures they stare at me with timid, yet curious expressions. Why sheep you ask? We have embarked on the adventure of small animal husbandry, in part, to Dwell. 

I'm so done dwelling. You know what I mean: the past always threatening to overtake the present. Do you face that each day? Your past decisions, losses, betrayals, and pains threatening you? How quickly the past tries to steal the promises and potential of today. Today, the sun is shining in all her glory. "Embrace me," she says, "Soak in the present and bask in His presence and warmth." But, the past lurks in the dark and tries to steal. Like a black night sky full of clouds, the past has no stars to guide the way. 

This mama is trying hard to leave the past behind. I want to Dwell where planted and embrace today. I want to be present, here and now. I want to create a nest where I've been planted, but so many days I fall short. Like the little bird I held in my lap yesterday, it's tempting to look into another's home and decide their nest is so much sweeter. Unfortunately, the land of discontent is not a great destination. Discontent is a window into disillusion. When I slam into discontent, I end up flat on my back, gasping for air with all my feathers a-ruffle. I am learning to Dwell in my own nest. I'm learning to create a contented nest in the forest.

How does one create a nest in the place God has asked you to Dwell when you're tempted to simply dwell? Stick by stick, we pick up what has blown in and blown down, and fluff our nest. We fill our home, twig by twig, with goodness and God's grace. Then? I'm learning to sing from the porch. I'm learning to invite those passing by into our abode. Invite fellow wanderers into your home. Invite them into your heart. Yes, your heart may be broken, but then again, it may expand.

 "A bruised reed He will not break." (Isaiah 42)

This beautiful bird house sat for so long. 

But now, someone's moved in, created a nest, and is singing.

As for the others in the nest? My husband Dwells carefully. He pondered for weeks what kind of fencing to install and he diligently answered the call. After long days, he yet humours his wife and supports her need to Dwell by lending a hand to bring about her desires. He is a Dwelling place in himself. He is a place children launch themselves upon and snuggle into. A ready shoulder and ear he gives freely. He is planted in the Word. He hears his sheep and answers them. He ministers to and guides his little flock. He Dwells by simply being present to us – in all our moments. 

The children? One child Dwells in deep and rich stories. She sits and reads for as many hours as we will permit. Emerging from her cocoon, her plans are often quite grand. She talks to the sheep and coaxes them with small handfuls of grain. I bet in time, she will woo them. The sheep know the voice of their shepherd and follow. The other child? He loves to run and chase. He dreams of the best way to catch the sheep and move them to other pastures. He, having helped his dad install the fence, is happy to instruct me on its usage. 10,000 volts fascinate him. He Dwells on every green hill he can run freely to - his imagination at his fingertips. 

"He who Dwells in the shelter of the Most High, will abide in the shadow of the Almighty." Psalm 91