Foreigner

As I was sitting in a park here in Leipzig yesterday, I realized how much my experience here should translate into my walk with Christ as a foreigner on this earth.

In this city, though I am among people, young, old, rich, poor, I am different.

I do not speak like them.

I try to look like them, though I know within me, I am not a part of their culture (not yet, anyways).

It is comforting to be with those who speak my language and share my stories.

I am separate from them.

Yes, I would love to become a part of this culture, to see how the people live more in depth, and yes, if I knew the language better, I surely could.  Yet I would not be able to shake my upbringing entirely.  I would know the life I was born into, I would remember the childhood songs, I would remember the love of my father and mother.  And again, I would reconsider my identity.

How much more should I know my reborn citizenship?

In Christ,
MJW