Even when I’m stationary, I forever feel like a vagabond on this earth.
Although I was born into a quiet little Mennonite community in Delaware, my whole world transformed when I moved with my parents at the age of 11 to North Africa. After a year there we settled into a province in southern Spain which was laden with immigrants. There, surrounded by dozens of cultures and languages, I spent all of my teenage years.
It was there that I grew into my own person, the place where I learned surrender, discovered my passions, and fell in love. There I received a deep sense of contentedness in all places, and a knowledge that I would forever be from a million places yet never really be from anywhere all at once. Now I claim my citizenship in Heaven, and recognize that on this earth, I’m forever a vagabond.
At this point, embracing a nomadic lifestyle feels akin to pulling on a favorite old sweater and settling in for a nice long read.