Growing up as an oilfield kid, the question, “Where are you from?” has always been difficult for me. It’s a simple question that you ask when getting to know someone, but I have four possible answers that I could give someone that are all completely different. Do they want to know where I was born? Do they want to know where I have lived the longest consecutively? Do I tell them where my parents live now? Or where I’ve lived the past few years before the World Race?
You see, when I was born, my family lived in Lake Charles, LA, but they drove an hour away to a town called Lafayette for the delivery. We lived in Lake Charles until I was two and then my dad got a job in Houston. We lived there for a year before returning back to Lake Charles. When I was in first grade, we moved to Lafayette and stayed there through the middle of my freshman year of high school. My dad was then transferred to California and we stayed there for a year and a half. Then, at the beginning of my junior year of high school, my family moved to the suburbs of Houston. My parents still live there today, but I ended up going back to Louisiana for college and then moved to Austin, TX after grad school.
I’ve lived in so many places that I don’t know if I really fit in to any of them. When I went to college, I told people that I was from Texas, even though I grew up in Louisiana. When I moved back to Texas after school, I would tell people that I was from Louisiana. I feel like I don’t fit in fully to either culture and my accent surely doesn’t fit in to either region.
Now that I’m on the Race, my answer when asked where I am from is “The United States”. If asked which state, I’ll say “Texas,” because it is where I lived before I left, and to be honest, it’s usually more known to foreigners than Louisiana. During our month in Colombia, a team of missionaries from a church in the US visited our ministry site and I was really excited to get to talk to them because they would bring me some comfort from my own culture. Shortly after engaging with them, I realized that I couldn’t find anything that connected us. I’ve changed so much the past eight months and I’ve been away from American culture for so long that I don’t feel like I am a part of it anymore. This group of people felt more foreign to me than the Colombians that I worked with this month.
My favorite verse in the Bible is Jeremiah 29:11: “For I know the plans I have for you says the Lord. Plans to prosper you and not to harm you. Plans to give you hope and a future”. I have always seen my life as a map. I can hear a particular song, think of an event, or remember a moment I had with God and think of the point on the map that holds that memory. If you drew a timeline of my life based on a map, it reminds me of what the Israelites must have looked like while wandering around the wilderness before getting to the promised land. “Go over here for a bit and set up camp.” “Ok, now head west for a few weeks but don’t get too comfortable.”
The Israelites wandering through the desert metaphor has gotten that much stronger on the Race. Every few weeks we’re packing our bags and either going to a new city or country. The bed I lay my head on at night will only be mine for a month at the most. I wish I would have kept a tally on the number of times I’ve packed everything I own in to a backpack and how many beds I’ve slept in. I’ve even started distinguishing places to my teammates by using “home” as the place we’re currently staying at and “home home” when referring to things that I will do when I return to the US at the end of June.
A few months ago, I got to tell one of our squad leaders about all of the places I’ve lived and he told me that it was really cool that I was such a nomad. I had never really thought of myself like this before, but I started talking to God about it and I was reminded that my life has prepared me for spreading His kingdom. I’ve had to learn to adapt to so many cultures and as a perpetual “new kid”, I’ve also learned to put myself out there and connect with all kind of people. Growing up, my parents put me in a French school and my mom later made me take Spanish, which has given me a knack for picking up foreign languages fast. I can’t help but think that God is preparing for something bigger than the American dream.
Before I moved to Austin, God told my mom that I would only be there for a few years. When the opportunity to go on the World Race came about, I knew that my time was finished there and that my timeline was about to have a bunch of squiggly lines across a world map. As I prepare for the Race to come to an end and I think about the next point on my map, I wonder where it will and how long I will lay my head down there. Will I ever put roots down somewhere or will I constantly wander around the wilderness?
I know that wherever I go, God is with me. I was not meant to be stagnant, but to spread kingdom wherever I go. Maybe that will be in the US or another country. Maybe I’ll stay there for a year or the rest of my life. Wherever my next step leads me, Philippians 3:20 tells me that I am a citizen in heaven and I’m only passing through on earth. I appreciate the way I grew up and will probably continue to live as a nomad, going wherever the Lord sends me. I can’t really tell you where I’m from or where I’m going, but I know who will be with me.
“Then I heard the voice of the Lord saying, ‘Whom shall I send? And who will go for us.’ And I said, ‘Here I am. Send me!'”- Isaiah 6:8
