Accent Mutt

This morning in church I was pondering the spelling differences between Canadian and US English. And I was thinking about the way my mouth forms words like "God" and "sorrow" now. These language differences and the fact that I ponder them reflect that I am a linguist.

I am a linguist! In fact, I will be graduating with a master's of linguistics and exegesis in two weeks' time. And then I have no idea what I will do with this degree. I'm going to Europe for the summer, and I'm eager to spend some time with my Dutch brother Edo and his family as well as friends in Italy, France, and Germany. Lately I've been considering how I will have the opportunity to begin learning at least three different languages this summer, and I'm excited about that.

But it's also kind of disheartening. I have it in my head that graduation should bring some closure, new plans, and an opportunity to settle down somewhere. Instead, my life is looking more and more tumultuous. A trip to Europe, family reunions, and no long terms plans whatsoever.

All of this change is exciting in some ways, but it exacerbates my longing for a normal life. I want to settle down somewhere, get a job, and be a contributing member of society. However, a nagging niggle inside makes me doubt that "settled" will describe my life any time soon. I will always be an accent mutt; no matter where I go, people will think that I sound different. I'll have strains of Chicago, Canada, even Iowa in my English. Nicaraguan gestures continue to salt my interactions in North America. I am fairly certain I'll pick up some European - specifically Dutch - intonation and habits as well. Though these influences demonstrate the rich opportunities I've had in life, they also remind me that I'm not at "home" and probably never will be. In these times of change when sometimes I just want to hold onto the old ways and never let go, I have to continually open my hands and open my heart to the people and places before me. I have to remember again that I will never be truly home in the world, for the only place I find rest and "home" is in Jesus Christ, my Lord.