The temperature was mild this morning for February and so I decided to take a walk. I was listening to some music on my phone as I left the house when I Am I Said by Neil Diamond started to play.
As the song ended, I found myself hitting the replay button - three times. I was trying to figure out a new connection to lyrics which had been familiar to me since my childhood:
L.A's fine, sun shines most of the time
And the feeling is laid back
Palm trees grow and rents are low
But you know I keep thinkin' about
Making my way back
Well I'm New York City born and raised
But nowadays, I'm lost between two shores
L.A.'s fine, but it ain't home
New York's home but it ain't mine no more
I finally realized that in my head I was hearing "L.A." as "Ghana" - with sunshine and palm trees - and New York City as Indiana, where I was "born and raised".
I love visiting Ghana, but the downside is that it reminds me of Haiti, where at least half of my heart remains to this day.
And Ghana is fine, "but it ain't home" and Indiana's home but, in some weird sense, "it ain't mine no more".
Some days I am very conscious of the fact that I am still a missionary at heart.
And I would struggle to fully define what I mean by "missionary", but at the very least it seems to involve living life "lost between two shores", even after returning "home" nearly six years ago now.
As I walked in the Indiana sunshine this morning, I asked myself, "Who did this to me?"
And you can guess how I answered...
"I Am", said I. 😉
And, honestly, I wouldn't want it any other way.
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