To belong…


At only six days old,
my new family took me in.

They loved me as they could,
but it was hard.

You see I was African American,
adopted by a white Canadian family in the seventies.

Nowadays we see prams full of delightful mixed babies,
but back then I was an anomoly.

I was the only black person in an entirely white community,
and my parents (as most adoptive parents back then)
brought me home to raise as their own
with no thought of where I had come from.

When I was young I thought I was a fallen angel.

I couldn’t bear to think otherwise.
What other reason could there be
for me feeling like I had been abandoned in a hostile land?

This place was not my home.

In middle school I was destined to date the only other black guy.
When I was in highschool white school mates wouldn’t hang out with me
because of how I looked,
and black people  wouldn’t be my friend
because I didn’t talk quite right.

My life was split in two.


So, my friend, if you want to speak of not belonging…
I truly feel your pain.

The characters in my books are often searching for a home,
a family,
and who they truly are.

And for everyone there is only one answer…
Which I think is best told in a story. 🙂

When I was a teen I hit rock bottom.
If I had been brave enough I would have taken my life.
By the grace of God, I decided to apply to work at a Christian camp,
and although my faith was shallow at best,
I was accepted because I knew the right answers (I was a Pastor’s kid).

It was the perfect place to hide from the world.

Everyday I worked alongside these “Christians”,
caring for kids that truly had nothing.
Three weeks in I walked into the director’s cabin,
and asked the question that was burning like a hot coal in my chest.

“Why is everyone so filled with joy?”

When she told me it seemed too easy.
God could do this?
But when they prayed for me,
I knew it to be true.

I had found home.

I learned that fitting in to this world wasn’t my purpose.

Perhaps you have hit rock bottom.
There is no joy.
You are the prodigal sitting in your own filth.
You stumble in darkness with no light.

There is a place for you.
And He offers comfort,



Have you struggled with feeling alone or not belonging? When I share my story many people (no matter their background) nod their head in agreement. I would love for you to share your past or present struggles with me either as a comment on this blog or privately at my email address tracking dot truth dot kdb at gmail dot com (no spaces and symbols instead of ‘dot’ and ‘at’) so I can pray for you. 🙂

Karen deBlieck

Karen deBlieck