Living in a different culture, I am reminded daily that I am an outsider. It's not always blatant. It's not always uncomfortable. But, it is always in the back of my mind.
This morning I was riding a mashrutka - little yellow bus - to the Seminary with my friend Julie, also an American. We were speaking in English but surrounded by Ukrainians. As we were traveling, we both were thinking about how 'normal' everything has become. The buildings, the weather, the people, the language and even the drab winter days. Just as we are thinking this, the bus stops in the road and opens the door... Our stop is on the side of the road, about 100 feet in front of us. Julie looks at me with a childlike expression asking for direction or affirmation.
And, again, we are both quickly reminded... we are strangers in a strange land.
What jolts us into remembering that we are all strangers in a foreign land? As we journey towards our heavenly home, what does God bring into our everyday lives that serves as a reminder that we are not in our homeland?
