Where I Belong
Switchfoot, a rock band, released a song in 2011 called "Where I Belong". I was singing the first line of that song all of Monday afternoon (the 21st):
I've never felt so homeless. My Host Mom ("Maman") and I had a mission today regarding my student visa. Entering the gate of the Administration Communale de Charleroi, I blinked at the crowd of people that swirled around the façade of the building. To enter, we waded through men holding cigarettes and official papers. There was an African mother with a stubborn toddler that she struggled to control. There was a corpulent, perspiring office-worker that scurried around with pursed lips trying to expedite the line. There was a slim, scraggly man gawking and grinning at the crowd.The room smelled of body odor and smoke. I felt uncomfortably close to humanity.
As I squirmed, a Middle-Eastern couple with their infant and an older man arrested my attention. They portrayed a scene that bled confusion, concern, and care. As the men worked with the attendant, seeking to provide a home, the startlingly young mother gently removed the baby, and with her composure calm, quietly cooed to the child, rocking gracefully. As I observed the raw humanity of this scene, God chiseled my mind. The only thing that separated me from the dutiful father, the confused child, the smoking men, the overwhelmed mother, and the bustling office worker was my circumstance. Why do I dwell with the feeling that I am above other people? When you strip men and women of their frills and lace (language, skills, wealth, family, home), and we stand as naked hearts, everyone needs two basic things. We need love and we need a home.
None of these extra things, such as wealth or a family, are evil, but when I place my pride in them, it makes me stuck-up and stubbornly hopeless. How is it that I have clean, new clothes? Did I earn them? No; I grew up in a family that could afford them. That does not make them evil, rather, I wish everyone could have as much fun as I have getting dressed in the morning. However, our comforts can disappear in an instant.
Some might argue that our decisions led us to where we are and that we deserve what we have. They are not completely wrong, but who has not made a wrong decision? Depending on one's circumstances, a poor choice may have no impact or it may deliver a life-threatening blow. Remove our circumstances, objectively observe us with only our decisions, and what is left? Battered and bruised fighters in need of rescue.
I'm no better than other people; I've just been born with more. Rip away my language competency, give me a wardrobe that weighs less than my youngest brother, put me in a situation where I rarely know where we are going and when, and I am a naked heart, standing with a motely crew. We call ourselves Humanity.
The song ends,
"Feelin' like a refuge..."
~~~ Lundi 21 auôt 2017 ~~~
I've never felt so homeless. My Host Mom ("Maman") and I had a mission today regarding my student visa. Entering the gate of the Administration Communale de Charleroi, I blinked at the crowd of people that swirled around the façade of the building. To enter, we waded through men holding cigarettes and official papers. There was an African mother with a stubborn toddler that she struggled to control. There was a corpulent, perspiring office-worker that scurried around with pursed lips trying to expedite the line. There was a slim, scraggly man gawking and grinning at the crowd.The room smelled of body odor and smoke. I felt uncomfortably close to humanity.
As I squirmed, a Middle-Eastern couple with their infant and an older man arrested my attention. They portrayed a scene that bled confusion, concern, and care. As the men worked with the attendant, seeking to provide a home, the startlingly young mother gently removed the baby, and with her composure calm, quietly cooed to the child, rocking gracefully. As I observed the raw humanity of this scene, God chiseled my mind. The only thing that separated me from the dutiful father, the confused child, the smoking men, the overwhelmed mother, and the bustling office worker was my circumstance. Why do I dwell with the feeling that I am above other people? When you strip men and women of their frills and lace (language, skills, wealth, family, home), and we stand as naked hearts, everyone needs two basic things. We need love and we need a home.
None of these extra things, such as wealth or a family, are evil, but when I place my pride in them, it makes me stuck-up and stubbornly hopeless. How is it that I have clean, new clothes? Did I earn them? No; I grew up in a family that could afford them. That does not make them evil, rather, I wish everyone could have as much fun as I have getting dressed in the morning. However, our comforts can disappear in an instant.
Some might argue that our decisions led us to where we are and that we deserve what we have. They are not completely wrong, but who has not made a wrong decision? Depending on one's circumstances, a poor choice may have no impact or it may deliver a life-threatening blow. Remove our circumstances, objectively observe us with only our decisions, and what is left? Battered and bruised fighters in need of rescue.
I'm no better than other people; I've just been born with more. Rip away my language competency, give me a wardrobe that weighs less than my youngest brother, put me in a situation where I rarely know where we are going and when, and I am a naked heart, standing with a motely crew. We call ourselves Humanity.
The song ends,
Until I die I'll sing these songs
On the shores of Babylon
Still looking for a home
In a world where I belong
On the shores of Babylon
Still looking for a home
In a world where I belong
~~~ ~~~
Like the soldiers on the beaches of Dunkirk, we're waiting for rescue. We're not home in this country. We're looking for a land with a home. These shores hold many naked hearts, looking for home and longing for love.
Across the waves rides rescue. A God that has sacrificed His life to give us what we need.
There is one decision that will determine our circumstance. We can choose hope or despair. If we trust that rescue will arrive, we will survive, the war will end, and we will be home.
"I can almost see it from here."
"What?"
"Home."(Commander Bolton's exchange with an officer.)
this is so thought provoking and sobering. i miss our deep conversations.
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