“On the road again . . . “

“Where are you from?” What a terrible question for a missionary kid. About as bad: “Where did you grow up?” “Nowhere, really. Well, everywhere.” Heading up I-75, windows down, wind roaring in our ears, the kids start to reflect on the journey. “The SUV feels as much like home as anywhere.” Angela adds,”No, I think it’s airport terminals.” I keep my own counsel. I grew up in a small town, graduated with kids I knew from childhood. I don’t have much to add. I have life experience that enables me to help bridge the gap for the kids between those small town roots and their big world experience. I understand it to a degree. It’s hard for me to nail that one down, too. Well, I’m from Florida or Iowa or Missouri or Papua New Guinea or Kansas or South Dakota or even Illinois. There are a lot of choices.

The road does seem like home.

The long road this time started in South Florida and is winding its way through Georgia, Tennessee, Kentucky, Illinois, Missouri, Kansas, Iowa, and South Dakota. The road is a bit longer for me. From South Dakota I wing my way across the South Pacific to Australia and on to Papua New Guinea–and back again.

Truth of the matter is it’s good to feel a little displaced and confused by what most people to consider a straightforward question. It reminds us that we are aliens and strangers in this world–that we are moving toward a city with foundations whose builder and maker is God.  It is gives us confidence to live as citizens of another, better country.

I think I’ll give a new response when someone asks me where I’m from: “Just over the horizon.”

Pray that while we drive this road and fly across this world we will be effective ambassadors for Christ.