When I first moved to the UK, I felt so self-consciously American. Hyper aware of my accent, which immediately labeled me as foreign. Fifteen years later, I usually forget my “other” status, but sometimes – often when I’m out of London – someone will look at me with curiosity and ask me where I’m from.
“North London,” I’ll say somewhat cheekily, fully knowing that’s not what they mean. “But from the States originally.”
And again I’ll be jolted into an awareness of otherness. That sense of being a foreigner in a strange land. The longing for home, which God embedded into each of us, whether we live in an adopted country or not.
A few months ago I wrote a poem expressing some of these feelings of heavenly citizenship, and to Whom we ultimately belong.
We belong Attached To you To others We belong. The yoke It’s a light burden Making us free Releasing us to bolt Out from our pens The gates flung open Running to the Father. We belong Peace resides with us A home is ours With arms and legs Hearts and hands We belong. Freedom and joy Usher in light and peace Rooted in the earth Grounded we are. Foreigners and aliens Away from our home Longing for a country For a city and the throne. We belong to each other Needed for love Learning to see Jesus His presence among us We belong. © 2013 Amy Boucher Pye
What makes you yearn for home?