On Nests

Once you were grown , Lord,

you had no constant home.

You passed up married coziness

to tramp the long dirt roads

between the towns on foot,

depending on a company

of followers, your  friends,

to meet your needs.

You shared with your disciples

and the greedy crowds,

then stretched out on

a mountain slope to pray

and get some rest.

No pillow for your head!

“Family” became everyone

who joined you on the Way.

I have a nest, just like the birds.

My bed has extra pillows.

Two guest-nests are prepared.

My kitchen is a playground

with a freezer stocked with meat,

frozen fruit and vegies,

provisions for the family

or a friend who comes around.

Ah yes, I have a nest – two nests.

I’ve led a slingshot life

across the sandwiched ocean!

I’ve wheeled along the roads

and flown the airways

to my goals, yanked about

but ending up inside

the known, the loved,

the home sweet home

shared with my dear mate,

companion as we build our nest.

Sometimes the treasured children

scattered far, are gathered in.

Their presence lights the day

with laughter, love and play.

They too have other nests

and year by year they grow

into Third Culture siblings

in the service of the King.

The ones that live nearby

come over to find respite

or an evening feast, and games.

They also fill our hearts

with gifts of warm embrace

and by sharing their life stories.

We store up this nutrition

for when we are apart.

We have a nest. We are so blessed!

I wrote a first draft of this poem 14 years ago, having left “home” in the U.S. once again to go “home” to Ferkessédougou, Côte d’Ivoire. Today I revised it. Life has changed: we are semi-retired, still involved overseas even while we are here in Detroit, sometimes traveling over there. We have adult “kids” here, and then one of them that lives in Norway with her husband and five kids. They were just visiting us as well as other dear ones in their various former homes this side of the Pond, and we treasured every moment.

It was fun to see the way that their four years in Norway have developed their blend of cultures: American family backgrounds (and MK life in Africa for daughter Ariane), years in Canada, and now Norway. This blend is called a Third Culture, and it is rich. In the featured photo they are doing the Norwegian “Row!” that cheered on their team during the World Cup, sitting on our porch in Detroit.

We have been questioned at times about how we could choose to leave parents, or our son and daughters, or be distant from grandchildren. As you know, it is not only missionaries who find that their life path leads to these separations. We each must follow the plan that our Lord God lays out for us. When he came to earth as a man he experienced these separations too, and did it for love of the Father and for humans. It may be difficult to understand sometimes, but love gives itself for the loved one. For some it may mean keeping a secure nest in the space where God has placed them. For others it may be learning to nest where God has another purpose in mind. In every case, the parents and their “children” need to learn to let go but maintain love, finding new ways to keep the bond strong.

I am so grateful right now for days with this family now nesting in Norway, and for those living here with whom we share mutual comfort and support.

Birds do migrate too, but they know where each home is!