As I type this I sit in my chair holding the phone between my ear and shoulder while on hold with technical support. I find few things to be as frustrating as trying to communicate some computer problem over the phone with someone who barely speaks my language. Because of this barrier, it makes me feel like I am trying to explain some simple task to a child who will not listen. A small rubber foot disappeared from the bottom of my laptop and the tech is telling me I will have to send my computer off so they can research the issue in order to determine how to resolve it. I am thinking, “If I had the piece of rubber I would reattach it myself with adhesive. It is not that difficult. Just send me the rubber piece!”

I finally hung up and called back. This time I reached someone who spoke much clearer English but I could still tell was not American. The first call probably took about a half hour; the second, about five minutes. It was like the first tech was using flash cards to ask questions and respond to what I said; when I asked something not on a flash card, it threw her into a panic.

It is not as if those technicians are incompetent and uneducated. I am sure they know more about computers than I. We just do not exactly speak the same language. And I am sure they are trying but it just does not come easy. They just are not from the same place as us.

Sometimes I think I feel like that here.

I am not so sure all Christians can relate with me but I know I am not alone. Some people feel perfectly at home in this world and do not want to leave. They may call themselves “Christian” but rarely want to study, worship, or dine with them. And, of course, they lack the desire to tell others about their faith. Acting Christian just does not fly with what they perceive to be accepted as normal and they may be right about that. The problem is convincing yourself of what is more important: fitting in while flying with the geese or telling the geese they are about to fly so gracefully into a brick wall?

At the same time, I do not like the uncomfortable feeling of being away from home. This world never fails to fail me. I know if I was home everything would be fine. And if I scraped my knee or got sick, someone would be there to hug me, kiss my scrape, or tuck me in at night. At home, I do not really have to say a word. You can just sort of sit together and everyone understands. If dad walks in from work while I am sitting upside down on the sofa reading a book, he does not care. He just smiles and pats me on the head.

But, when I am away from home I am always missing it and I can not act the same way. If I sit in a chair upside down to read a book, people look at me strange. If I hurt my ankle, I have to drive myself to the doctor. I have to care for my own wounds. And the ice pack never feels as good when you make it yourself.

I think all this adds to the difficulty of reaching out to people. While I have the responsibility to extend the hand of Jesus to people who do not have Him, I think about how this is not home. Because, when I am at home, I do not have to think about what I say. When I am away from home, I have to try to relate to others in their language and setting. Most of the time, I am sure I sound like an idiot. I mean, I am not ignorant of what occurs in this world but that does not mean I speak their language fluently.

I think of myself as being in a similar situation as this tech with whom I spoke. I believe I have information about true life that the world does not have. I just have difficulty relating that message to them. Some of them are very cooperative and patient but others are like me with the tech and just want to hang up and call again in hopes of speaking with someone more fluent in their language.

My parents have come to visit, I have been able to visit home briefly, and my sister and her husband will visit soon. It is these visits that keep me going. I guess that is why we have the Church. We have family members here to hug us, care for us, and encourage us while we are all away from home. Some of us speak more clearly to those not of our family. Others so patiently help us remember that home is not too far away while we persistently ask, “Are we there yet? Are we there yet? Are we…”

“By faith he (Abraham) lived as an alien in the land of promise, as in a foreign land, dwelling in tents with Isaac and Jacob, fellow heirs of the same promise; for he was looking for the city which has foundations, whose architect and builder is God” (Hebrews 11:9-10).