Momma’s House, Daddy’s at Home!


I drive a bus for a day school here in the city we live in. I have passengers who are over the age of eighteen and under the age of four or five. All of these are developmentally disabled for various reasons. One of the four year olds on my bus has cerebral palsy. A couple of the children are autistic and others have behavioral problems. At first I was a bit apprehensive about working in this environment because they tell you a lot of the bad things that you will have to deal with, however, I have been touched in many ways be the sweetness of these people.

The other day, at about 6:55 AM we pulled up in front of a home to pick up a little two year child. The child was standing out front with their mother and when they saw the bus approach they got so excited the child was jumping up and down. I stopped and then tooted the horn to make the child laugh. This child struggled to climb up the steps with their little short legs and stopped beside me to show me their new shirt. One of the aides took the child back to their seat and got them strapped into their car seat. The mother stood on the steps and watched the process, talking to me for a moment. Then her child stretched out their arms toward her indicating they had to have a kiss good-bye. Momma went back and gave them a kiss then climbed off the bus and headed toward the door of the house. As we rolled down to the end of the road to turn around the little one began to cry and say “Home! Home! Home!”

I looked over at the house that the child lives in. It is an old mobile home with unpainted wood siding. It sets in the trees and never sees the sun at all. The side that is visible from the road is the north side and it is cover with green moss. The yard is neatly kept with a few interesting landscape additions. As I looked at the house and its kind of dismal appearance I thought to myself, “Why would anyone want to go to that home?” Then just as quickly I realized it wasn’t the house they were talking about. The child wanted to be where Momma was. That was home.

I have another three year old who is adopted from the foster care system. This child’s mother or father brings them out to the bus every morning and again there is a big production of goodbyes after they are in their car seat. I love to see the love and care they show this child. I also love to see the adoration this child has for the parents. This child thinks that the father “hung the moon.” When we return in the evening as we pull up to the house the child begins to watch to see if the father’s truck is in the drive way. If it is there the child begins to holler, “Daddy home! Daddy home! Daddy home!” This happens so often that now all of the children will holler with him, “Daddy home!”

It is amazing, some of these children can barely talk, even at four years old, but when it comes time for them to be the next stop they know they are getting close to home. One of the students cannot speak at all. I noticed that she shows her happiness and stress by voice inflections not words. One afternoon, right after she began to ride my bus, I had to run a route a little different and failed to turn on her street but drove past it. She immediately began to holler and carry on. I realized she knew where home was. I am now careful to take her home the same way everyday and she is happy.

The other day another child’s mother went on an out of town field trip with an older sibling. This child stayed with a grandparent who met us each morning at the home to put the child on the bus. The first morning the child was fine, Momma had just left and they had Grandma. However, the next morning it was a different story. The child was crying when they got out of the car. Grandma promised them the world if they would stop crying. She said, “I will take you anywhere you want to go tonight, just don’t cry!” It didn’t matter they kept on crying. As we were pulling away I was surprised to hear the child saying, “I want my Momma!” I had thought they were crying because they didn’t want to leave Grandma, but it was Momma who was being missed. There just isn’t a substitute for Momma, not even grandma.

Someone once said, “Home is where the heart is.” I would have to say this is very true. I would also have to say that with these children, home is where the loving parent is, and be it Momma or Daddy. They are what make it home. It isn’t the appearance of the house that makes it home. Neither is it the location of the house but it is the recognition of who and what is there, Momma and Daddy and lots of love.

I have found the same to be true in my relationship to God. Home is where Momma is. The Church is our spiritual mother. It births us. It nourishes us. It is where we are fed. It is where we go when we hurt. It is where we go when we need loving. It doesn’t matter so much what the house looks like. It can be a store front or it can be a beautiful edifice. I have seen it housed in garages, school houses and exquisite buildings, it really doesn’t matter as long as Momma is there. Momma is going to make it all right!

Of course Daddy provides the security and provides. He is there with His strength and power. That quite strength that reassures us the world can be shaking on the outside, but as long as Daddy, our Heavenly Father, is home, everything is going to be alright!

I love to drive up to the house and begin to feel the anticipation of knowing that Momma is there. All of the problems and pressures of the day and week will be shared with her. Those bumps, scrapes and boo-boos are going to be doctored. The emptiness inside me is going to be replaced with satisfaction. The loneliness I am feeling will leave with the sweet fellowship of Momma’s loving care.

I love to walk into the house and recognize that Daddy’s home. The fear and uncertainty is gone, Daddy’s home. There is safety and security now because Daddy’s home. Those around me can also feel the excitement from with in me and they too come to recognize that Daddy’s home.

There just isn’t a substitute for Momma! There is nothing in the world that can ever take her place. When you are away from Momma there is something inside your soul that cries out for her. There are a lot of things that try to take her place in our lives, but nothing and no one can take the place of Momma!

No, it doesn’t matter where it is nor does it matter what it looks like on the outside, just as long as it’s Momma’s house and Daddy’s home! That is where my soul longs to be…

Just a Thought! God Bless…

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