Home, Sweet, Sahel

I live here?!

The past month or so has been a time of redefining what the term home means. I landed in the Sahel of Africa in May, travelled down to my city for a week, and got back on a plane to head for more training in Zambia. When the plane landed, I learned how diverse Africa really is. 

To show what I mean here are some comparisons. Let's just assume I live in the dustier of the two pictures:  

 

I must admit, visiting Zambia almost made me jealous. The air is clean and dust-free. The people smile and greet me in English. The climate is pleasant, and the stars are ridiculously beautiful.

After a while, though, I found myself wanting to get back to my African home. I wanted to get started learning a language that’s useful for my people group, learning the specifics of West African culture, and building actual friendships instead of one-conversation relationships. I wanted to plant some roots where I will actually be living for the next two years.

However, there was a kink in my plans. During our bush camp experience, we found out that our team’s supervisor was diagnosed with melanoma. It was a question mark as to whether or not Melissa and Shad, who had taken us in as a part of their family and made us feel like home in our city, would be around. On top of possibly losing a large chunk of our family/team, we weren’t going to be able to go back to our city for a month.

Thus, I (internally) pouted for a bit, mourning a loss of direction and home. Where am I supposed to belong on this big, spinning ball of dirt? In a lot of ways, I never really felt like a “normal” American growing up. I think hamburgers are decent, but I could live without them. I studied French in college. I am kind of a hippie more often than not. For sure, I’m no African, either. Nor am I much of anything else. So, what am I?

I landed on this truth: regardless of my location, I am, at best, a foreigner in life. It’s good, though. In Christ, I am free to be undefined. I can be homeless, in a sense. Christ came to break down divisions, making new life and redefining home for me. So, my home is now wherever the Lord puts me for a time. Bigger than that, God has made His home inside of me, so my way of classifying myself doesn't really matter that much any more. It’s a pretty awesome concept, when you think about it. 

“For Christ himself is our peace, who has made the two groups one and has destroyed the barrier, the dividing wall of hostility, by setting aside in his flesh the law with its commands and regulations. His purpose was to create in himself one new humanity out of the two, thus making peace, and in one body to reconcile both of them to God through the cross, by which he put to death their hostility. He came and preached peace to you who were far away and peace to those who were near. For through him we both have access to the Father by one Spirit. Consequently, you are no longer foreigners and strangers, but fellow citizens with God’s people and also members of his household.”