I’ll never forget the call. It was something like, “Son we would like to have you come home for Thanksgiving…we are going to burn our home.” “What?!!! Are you crazy?” I think was in the general vicinity of my response. Mom and Dad had decided to burn the house I had grew up in. They now had a nicer, newer house on the farm, and the property tax on the old one wasn’t worth the rent they could get from it. So — not to be accused of being sentimental — they wanted to have a house-burning. So we went home that Thanksgiving. I walked through the house to say my last goodbyes, picked up a few momentos, watched my kids do what they had always dreamed of doing — completely destroying a house, and then watched it burn. I lost a home that day. It’s hard to lose a home — even when you already have one..
My Grandfather was one who knew something about being away from home. He spent much of his life “away from home.” When I was a kid, he lived on our farm, in a little wooden mobile home. I remember going out to his place before the school bus came. I would sit with him and watch for the bus — I was probably 7 or 8 at the time — and drink a cup of coffee. I’ve been drinking it ever since.
What I remember most…were his stories. He could tell stories like you wouldn’t believe. Stories about the road; following the harvest; riding the rails; meals with hobo’s and other great adventures. As a young boy there wasn’t much better than Grandpa’s stories. Growing up I idolized grandpa and his life on the road. But as I grew older, I came to realize that his life was not quite as glamorous as I once thot. It wasn’t so much a life on the road, as it was a life without home. His life on the road was the journy of an alcholic abandoning his family for long periods of time…and I know it was hard on him. Life without a home is hard.
For the last few weeks in Myanmar, children have been losing their homes. The government has gone on an orphanage closing spree. So far, I am aware of five homes that have been closed. There are likely many more. At least three of the small orphanages we (Calvary) supports are in danger of being closed. I realize it’s a Buddhist country, but I’ve been sitting here tonight trying to figure out why a government is closing orphanages that are caring for children that the government would just as soon forget. I don’t know it just seems harder than my house-burning and even my Grandfather’s running. When an orphan has to deal with a lost home That’s hard. Please pray.