My home, a soft place to land, a shelter, a resource, come within these doors for rest

As I was connecting the dots from point A to point B, last night. It occurred to me how important the atmosphere of a home is with the endless schedules children are faced with. Ballgames, cheer practice, homework, surviving teenager years, projects, and growing up. Where do kids go if home isn't a welcoming center for rest, renewal, and support? They go to opposite sex relations that become unhealthy. They look for comfort in substances that may alter immediate circumstances, but spiral down a dark hallway. They look for affirmation in peers, resulting in pressure to change who they are or what they are in order to belong or fit in. I think about all the forms I have filled out for school. Each form always begans with name and address. As I have written this information time after time it is humbling to realize what a child's address can involve. Fighting. Cussing. Mothers who drink. Fathers who are not faithful. Meals from a can or box. Few conversations unless a crisis. Parents who have forgotten their purpose. No supervision after school. Experimentation with sex and drugs. Loss of innocence. Must a home be perfect? No. However, I beleive we must lay claim to our homes and take them back from the cold grip of the world. We mothers must be strong and draw lines. We must set loving boundaries for our children. Bedtimes. Schedules. Meals. We must open the doors of our hearts so our children will see a welcome mat, inviting them home to find love, acceptance, concern, guidance, sleep, food, clean clothes, discussions, privacy, and protection. An address or a place called home. We must decide.