What does it mean to sojourn?
The word sojourn is defined as: a temporary stay; a brief period of residence;
alien; to be strange, dissimilar in a place.
One cannot argue that there are many references to being strangers,
aliens and sojourners in the scriptures.
Psalms 39:12 Hear my prayer, O LORD, and give ear unto my cry; hold not
thy peace at my tears: for I am a stranger with thee, and a
sojourner, as all my fathers were.
1 Peter 1:1 Peter, an apostle of Jesus Christ, to the strangers
scattered throughout Pontus, Galatia, Cappadocia, Asia, and Bithynia,
1 Chronicles 29:15 For we are strangers
before thee, and sojourners, as were all our fathers: our days on the
earth are as a shadow, and there is none abiding.
Psalms 119:19 I am a stranger in the earth: hide not thy
commandments from me.
Hebrews 11:13 These all died in faith, not having received the promises,
but having seen them afar off, and were persuaded of them, and embraced them,
and confessed that they were strangers and pilgrims on the earth.
As a believer, I’ve always given my “amen” to such
references. After all, I believe the
word of God is infallible, perfect, and trustworthy enough to stake my life on
it. But sometimes, particular scriptures
come to life when you have experiences that illuminate them. You start to feel the truth of them in your bones.
You probably already know where I’m going
with this, but stick with me.
America is my homeland.
Haiti is my foreign land.
There are certain experiences one has when sojourning in a
foreign land. There is a language barrier. No matter how many classes and different experiences I have with Haitian
Creole, I am only able to speak it as a foreigner. There are nuances, proverbs, tones and inflections
that I am unable to master because I am not Haitian. Not that I couldn’t eventually learn them,
but it is unnatural for me.
Beyond the challenges of language, there is a culture here
in my foreign land that is completely new to me.
The way people behave in certain situations,
the colors they wear, the physical gestures they use, the patriotic beliefs
they possess, the history they have endured, the stories they have woven as a
people – none of it is mine.
I can learn
about it and try to exist and be fruitful in it, but it is foreign to me.
I respect it, but I do not belong in it.
I am welcome to dwell within it, but I do not
know it as my own.
Some things are similar to my homeland of America. There are some stores, groceries, a few
restaurants. But being the only white
person walking through a supermarket, trying to do currency conversions in your
head and trying to find basic things that you know how to cook with is just not
the same as strolling through Kroger while your kids munch on their free
cookies. (Man, I miss that!) It is similar in many ways to America, but it
is not America.
Don’t get me wrong! I
enjoy Haiti! I am thankful for the
beautiful people here. The physical
beauty I am surrounded by on a daily basis is unmatched by anywhere else I have
ever lived. New flowers bloom in my yard
every day that I have never seen before.
Strikingly colorful birds fly to my window and sing to me each
morning. The smell of flavorful, ethnic
food wafts onto my front porch in the afternoons as I listen to the melodious
voices of the children in a nearby school reciting their lessons in
unison. I love the work that God wants
us to do here. I love being a servant to
a people who are unlike me in many ways.
So much of it is wonderful! But
deep within me is a gnawing feeling that this is not where I came from. My citizenship is in America and I am not
home. It is no small correlation that when we received our residency status here in Haiti, we received a small booklet entitled "Permis de Sejour", which basically means "permit of sojourn".
And then, the light bulb came on.
This is what it means to live as an alien in a foreign
land. Just as Haiti is my foreign land,
as a believer in Christ, Earth is my foreign land. I live here on earth and it’s beautiful,
alluring, the relationships here are meaningful, and there is work to be done
here. But it is a temporary
residence. Just as I do not know how
long we will live in Haiti, I don’t know how long our sojourn will be on this
earth. Our citizenship lies somewhere
else.
When I find myself driving through the streets of Haiti,
overcome by how unfamiliar everything is, may I be reminded that I am to see my
sojourn on this earth in the same way.
When I long for a Chick-fil-a sandwich and a walk in the park with my
children in my Bluegrass State, may I realize how much my heart should be longing
for my heavenly home.
This is convicting.
Do I live with the soulful pining to be with my Lord the way
an alien longs for his homeland?
Is my mind consumed with the things of my “host country” or
is it set on “a better country?” (Heb 11:16)
Thank you Lord for illuminating your word to me through
struggles that I am having and bringing clarity to truths you want me to
learn. May I continually remember that
you did not create me ultimately for my “host country” of this fallen world,
but for eternity with You.
But now they desire a better country,
that is, a heavenly one: therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God: for
he hath prepared for them a city. Hebrews 11:16
