Home

I am a British American, which means that I have two nations that I know well.  The odd thing is, the old country just doesn't feel like home any more.  It's familiar, I know my way around and the ways of the people,  but I am an alien here.  When I am here, I feel a little bit like a stranger on the inside.

When I come to the US, I know that is not where I started out.  I've had to learn my way around, to adapt to the way people are.  However, that is where I belong now.  I am much more at home there.

Today, as I drive around London's M25 ring road late at night, it occurs to me that there is no place that is fully home for me: neither England nor New England.  I am a perennial stranger.  Then the great truth become apparent.  As a Christian, a Christ-follower, a disciple on The Way, only in The Father am I truly at home. I am at once always home, and at the same time always a stranger in a strange land. And it's OK.