A Place To Run To

We were talking about my daughter’s space.
Not a personal space that each of us has around us.
Rather an actual space.
A space that gave her a bit of freedom in a houseful of siblings.

My oldest daughter was the one who brought it up.
My younger son remembered and added forgotten details.
We all laughed, remembering things we hadn’t thought about in quite a while.
I thought my solution at the time was nothing short of brilliant.

We had moved from a house we had built into a larger house after our fifth child was born.
The previous house had five bedrooms; one small room was perfect for a nursery.
The house we live in now has four bedrooms, though they are larger than our other house.
Everyone shared a room except our youngest daughter.

My oldest daughter remembered that at age twelve she began to share a room.
She and her sister love each other very much, but they are very different.
Those differences are wonderful now, but at age 12 and 9 1/2 they seemed vast.
There were some difficulties in that first year, as they got used to sharing space.

They would come to us looking for solutions to things they needed to work out themselves.
It seemed we were always being asked to intervene in one thing or another.
We always sent them back with the same response: work it out yourselves.
Nothing was so big that it needed our intervention.

I remember the day when the younger of the two wanted to talk to me.
I really would like my own room, Mom.
She began to lay out all the reasons why this should happen.
Her arguments were sound to a 10-year-old girl.

There is no room in this house to give you your own room, I said as I watched her lip quiver.
Could we divide the room in half and build a wall? She actually asked me.
And what would we do about the bathroom? I asked her looking towards the door.
Their room had its own bathroom and the door was right in the middle of one wall.

That presented a problem in her mind.
She really wanted some sort of partition so they each had a feeling of private space.
She went off to school, feeling a bit defeated.
While she was at school, I had an idea.

There are various needs when you have a large family.
Food, clothing, shelter, and of course, love are first and foremost.
But there are specific needs pertaining to each child that must be addressed.
What works for one does not necessarily work for another.

This second daughter needed to feel special.
She was already special.
In her mind, she wasn’t the oldest and she wasn’t the youngest.
She was the middle daughter, a problem for no one but her.

I looked at the door at the top of the back stairs and I knew.
This was the answer to her need.
This would make the difference and enhance a sisterly relationship.
I began to plan my strategy.

I had it all been determined in my mind’s eye.
Now it was just proposing the idea to both of my daughters.
It would be that afternoon when they got home from school.
I saw the yellow bus across the street, right on time.

After they had their snack and I heard about their day, I laid out my proposal.
I looked at my daughter, who made the request.
I know you would like your own room, but that is not possible.
However, it is possible for you to have your own space.

My own space? She asked waiting for the catch.
Come upstairs, I said leading the way.
We walked up the back stairs and I opened the door to the large walk-in closet.
The closet was designed for storage but was not being fully utilized at the moment.

How would you like this for you own personal space?
She looked at me, skeptical that I could make this happen.
Imagine sitting in a chair and listening to music.
Imagine having a quiet place to read.

She couldn’t have been more excited as she began to plan the use of her space.
My oldest daughter was sitting on her bed reading.
Are you OK with this? I asked knowing she would be just fine with the idea.
I get the whole room to myself while she is in her space; I’m fine.

Being older, she kept this all in perspective.
She did get the better end of the deal.
She had a large room to relax in that had its own bathroom.
Her sister had a large closet as her personal space.

It really wasn’t about size.
It was about meeting a need.
A need that to an adult seemed ridiculous.
A need that to a young girl on the verge of her teen years was incredibly important.

I had a very small budget in mind.
We went to a discount store.
She chose an inflatable chair with bright colors.
She chose a lava lamp to give her space ambiance.

We had a little resin table that was never used and she put that next to her chair.
She bought posters with her babysitting money: Backstreet Boys and other boy bands.
She put her boom box in there with all of her cassette tapes.
My husband even installed an electrical outlet as well for the boom box and the lava lamp.

Whenever a few of her friends would come over, they sat in her space.
That is what it was called: her space.
It was used for a season.
It was soon outgrown.

Though while it lasted, it was such a blessing.
It strengthened the bond of sisterhood, since they each had their own space to be themselves.
It solidified the special-ness of a girl who felt a bit lost in the crowd for a time.
It affirmed that meeting a need that could be met is an important thing to do.

I said, “Oh, that I had the wings of a dove! I would fly away and be at rest – I would flee far away and stay in the desert; I would hurry to my place of shelter, far from the tempest and the storm.” (Psalm 55:6-8)

We all feel like that from time to time.
We all need a space to go off to.
We all need a place all our own to be quiet, to be still, to think, and to ponder.
It is important that we find that space, or make that space for our children.

It does not have to be elaborate.
It just has to be a place of solitude.
We all have the need to run away sometimes.
Perhaps not literally, but surely metaphorically.

We all have a space.
We all have a place to run to.
We all have safety there.
In that space, we are found.

You are my hiding place: you will protect me from trouble and surround me with songs of deliverance. (Psalm 32:7)

My daughter’s space was a large closet at the top of our back stairs.
Our space, our hiding place, is the Lord.
He is our shelter.
He is our place of peace and stillness.

Run to Him.
Only there, will you be at peace.