My dad used to say, “A man’s home is his castle.” By this he meant a man or woman is king or queen of their home. It is the sacred spot where their soul can be free, and no one has the right to impinge upon it without permission.

We knew that whatever happened in the outside world, in our home we supported each other, trusted each other, had fun together. 

Now that I have children of my own, I think of my dad’s saying a lot. I work, with the help of my husband, to create a safe, relaxed atmosphere where our children can thrive. 

“What does a castle home look like?” I wondered. Here is the list I came up with. 

I offer it with the disclaimer that our homes will be imperfect, as we are. This list is intended not as a blueprint but as an inspiration — the outline of a castle that you can build in various ways, to the best of your ability, whatever your circumstance. 

Homes are where we feel safe. A home should be a place where we can speak without being judged. In a home, physical, emotional or sexual abuse or bullying is not allowed. 

Homes are where we are most fully ourselves. I had a sister who was very shy. “Cat got your tongue?” people would ask her. But at home, we knew her to be feisty and passionate and a lover of beauty. Homes are like that. Whatever we are — good, bad or indifferent — it shows in our homes. Mostly, that’s a good thing. Where I am most fully myself, I am also most fully known. And where I am most fully known and still loved, I learn to feel worthy of love. I learn to trust.

Homes are where we give and receive acceptance. In a home, each child should feel accepted for the person he or she is and learn also to accept others. This does not mean we should not name sin when we see it. We should call out sin and explain why God does not want us to harbor a particular attitude or action. But our common human struggle against sin, our quirks of personality, interests, curiosity, distinct ways of looking and speaking — these should be accepted in a simple, loving way. 

Homes are where we learn to live in intimacy. Our bodies together as a couple. All our hearts entwined. Because when I am accepted where I am for who I am, when I am loved in my weak places, I learn to enjoy closeness. I can share my heart with others, and I become a trustworthy place for others to share their real selves. 

Homes are where we feel comfortable, like no one is watching. In our homes we do not have to feel we have an audience. We do not have to feel we are an audience. When I was young, my siblings laughed at how I would wiggle and squiggle into the corner of a couch or chair, trying to get comfortable before reading a book. Our homes should be like that — places we can wiggle and squiggle into and relax. 

Homes are where we rest. My dad used to say, most every afternoon, “Let’s all go take a little nap.” Then he and mom would go to their bedroom with a fan to block the noise while the rest of us evaporated to various corners of the house for our private pursuits. In adulthood, I’ve had to relearn the importance of creating space for rest. 

Homes are where we can shut the door — literally and metaphorically — to others’ opinions and ways of doing things. Because people’s opinions matter to me, I return to this thought often. Worrying about what others think or comparing my family to theirs is one of the quickest ways to destroy the magic of my own castle. 

When I was growing up, my dad did not like his peace interrupted by the phone. At family meals or when he and mom wanted to take a nap, he would take the phone off the hook so anyone calling would get a busy signal. Now, whenever I hear the faint buzz of negative comparison in my soul, or when people connections jumble my brain, I think of that phone coming off the hook. 

I can close the door literally to visits or phone calls. I can also close the door metaphorically to bringing comparisons into my home. 

In our homes, we create our own worlds. In our worlds, we reign. With thought, love and prayer, we can make our homes safe and sacred spaces to the best that our circumstances and abilities allow.