Long, long years ago our grandparents had no problem when asked a simple question
“Where are you from?”
The answer was quite evident – as clear as the rising sun.
Their speech gave them away; their talk revealed their roots.
Today the answer’s not so clear.
My face, my voice, my intonation can keep you guessing,
mostly wrong – as to where I am from.
I was born far away in the North; I grew up far South,
My parents took me East; I moved to the West
Is there any place I still call home?
Is there anyone who still knows my name?
I’m only one of millions, moving around the globe
Some call me a TCK – a Third Culture Kid
Some say I am a nomad – moving from place to place
The seas of change have thrown me across oceans far away
I try to find a place to live;
I’m a stranger wherever I go.
A refugee, an immigrant, rootless, unplanted
Is there a place assigned for me?
In Psalm 139 the words of comfort I find:
If I rise on the wings of the dawn,
if I settle on the far side of the sea,
even there your hand will guide me,
your right hand will hold me fast.
There is someone who knows my name, however far I’ve roamed
“Do not fear, for I have redeemed you;
I have summoned you by name; you are mine.”
I took you from the ends of the earth,
from its farthest corners I called you. Isaiah 43
I have chosen you and have not rejected you. Isaiah 41:9
Jesus said, “Anyone who loves me will obey my teaching. My Father will love them, and we will come to them and make our home with them. John 14:23