I'm hurt all the time.
I don't want to cry for the way I feel inside.
I just want someone to hold me...
I'm alone in the dark, please try to find me.
Chula
What does it mean to ‘accept God’s kingdom the way a child does?’
We begin our life before birth in union with our mother’s body: her lifeblood keeps us alive.
When we are born, that same sense of oneness or unity usually continues with the people around us who provide for our basic human needs. There are no boundaries: all is taken and held as it is and the infant lives almost entirely in the present moment without regret for the past or fear of the future. However, too soon, boundaries get established and our understanding of the world around us gets divided up and separated out into good or bad, right or wrong, male or female, rich or poor, worthy or unworthy. But one day, we might emerge from Plato’s cave, and 'become awake' to the false reality of illusory boundaries and begin the long journey ‘back home’ into that original whole ness. It is the place where there is an integration of the self within together with integrity with the outer world; where there is a ‘heart-knowing’ that we are all connected and everything and everyone belongs; where the Kingdom of Heaven is now, on this earth amongst these people.
But what about the children on the margins of society?
Is the relative ease or difficulty of that journey ' back home' somehow related to the way in which one was nurtured in wholeness as a child i.e., allowed to simply ‘be a child’ and made to feel worthy with a sense of belonging? What about the children who have been born into families where addictions, abuse and violence have been a part of their daily life since they were born? What about the child soldiers and the street children? What does ‘back home’ look like for them?
As a former member of the Children’s Panel in West Lothian and a volunteer at a residential school for children with complex emotional and behavioural needs, the vulnerable children I have encountered are often the outcasts in our society. For a variety of reasons, their parents might have been unable to nurture them, to provide for their wellbeing or to protect them from emotional abuse and/or physical violence. For some, a series of foster careers were subsequently unable to manage their difficult behaviour and the schools were unable to cope with them. Outwardly, they have often been labelled ‘trouble-makers’ and excluded from society. But inwardly, they might feel rejected, unworthy or uncared about; 'unconditional love' has never been part of their vocabulary and ‘belonging’ is something they might never have experienced. Who will accompany them on their painful and difficult journey when ‘home’ is synonymous with suffering? Who will pick up the pieces along the way? What will we do when we meet them on our own journey ‘back home’? Will we hold their hand?
Nancy Adams