That’s right, Mom, Dad, and everyone else at home.
You can stop calling me Cat, or Catherine, or any derivative of that.
When I come home, just call me Nanduenkop.
Nanduenkop is my Masaai name, and it means “from a far, far country.”
Yes, I know that should be a huge dud of a name.
I’m from America, after all, and it is far, far away from Kenya.
Consider this, though – I’m not who I was when I left America.
Most days, the only way I know who I am is when I look in the mirror and see the face staring back at me hasn’t changed (except for the ever shifting band of acne that hasn’t left me since Australia).
But when I say face, I mean face minus the eyes.
Eyes speak volumes, and the eyes that greet me when I care to examine them show me the woman I am now.
That woman stares depression in the face and says, “I choose joy.”
She stares fear in the eyes and tells it, “I’m not afraid of you.”
She gives doubt no second glance, and lets it know, “Whatever you think I can’t do, I can.”
Then she steps out and does her thing, because the joy of the Lord is her strength and she knows He has gone before her-
Whether that thing is preaching, singing, praying, teaching, or just loving people.
That woman – this woman – is from a far, far country.
Sometimes, I wonder if she’s even from the same planet.
My comfort in that wondering is knowing my Bible says I’m a stranger passing through, and my citizenship is in God’s Kingdom.
My task is bringing that Kingdom to Earth, and letting it transform me into an alien in the process.
