Where Am I From?: How the Transience of the Missionary Life Roots You in Biblical Truth

Before Southern Baptists deploy their missionaries, they train them. This seven-week Field Personnel Orientation is a rich time of fellowship, equipping, and transition for all new missionaries. I thoroughly enjoyed getting to know my colleagues during this season of preparation for the mission field. As you walk through these weeks, you are encouraged to find yourself surrounded by people who have uprooted their lives for the sake of the gospel. My recurring question to colleagues early on was, “Where are you from, and where are you going?” You can learn a lot about a person based on how they answer that question. Your most formative years of life are often tied to a place, and your sense of identity is shaped by where you come from.

For me, that place is a small town in northwest Tennessee called Huntingdon. I spent my entire childhood there, in a place where everyone knows everyone. I played football for Huntingdon High School (the 2025 state champions!), was discipled by First Baptist Church, and still have most of my family living in this town of about 5,000 people. This town shaped me into the man that I am today. Many of my beliefs and opinions about the world were formed there. For example, I firmly believe—with all my heart—that the best BBQ on planet earth is found in West Tennessee.

Kids are always listening, whether you realize it or not. My son quickly caught on to my recurring question to fellow missionaries. One afternoon, while we were strolling the campus, he asked me a crucial question, “Daddy, where am I from?” My extroverted seven-year-old asks endless questions every day. This morning, he woke up at 5:30 a.m. to ask whether I liked mustard. This, however, was different. This was not a casual question. It was one he had clearly thought long and hard about in the throes of transition.

The answer to that question is not as simple for him as it is for me. He was born in Nairobi, Kenya, lived three years in Alabama, and two years in Indiana, and was preparing to move yet again. He, along with my other two sons, is a “third culture kid.” A third culture kid (TCK) is someone who spends a significant part of the first eighteen years of life in a country or countries different from at least one parent’s passport country, due to a parent’s choice of work or advanced training.[1] These individuals blend their home culture and their host culture to form a unique “third culture.” Missionary kids are not the only ones who fit this description; military kids, foreign service kids, and many others do as well. This merging of cultures can be disorienting—especially during transition—because they don’t fit neatly into either culture. The life of a missionary is a life of transition. Yet it is precisely this lifestyle choice that has a way of rooting you in foundational biblical truth.

As followers of Christ, this world is not our home. The writer of Hebrews reminds us that “this world is not our permanent home; we are looking forward to a home yet to come.”[2] Peter greets believers in the dispersion as “elect exiles,”[3] and Paul reminds the Philippians that “our citizenship is in heaven.”[4] We can grow so comfortable in our temporary homes here on earth that we completely forget that a far better home awaits us in glory. Scripture calls you to regularly remember that heaven is your home. These are foundational biblical truths that feed your soul in a fallen world. Maintaining an eternal perspective is essential for perseverance on the mission field.

When you commit to the missionary life, you are committing to the conviction that heaven—not any particular place on earth—is your home. Selling your home, getting rid of your belongings, and putting your life in a few suitcases impresses this truth in your heart and mind. Signing up to be a missionary is signing up for a life of transition, and this fluid lifestyle affects the whole family. The mission field will chew up and spit out the missionary who does not cling to this truth. While living overseas and raising children there comes with many challenges, it also brings significant blessings. I am thankful that my children are more adaptable, bilingual, and have a front-row seat to witness what God is doing in Latin America. Most of all, I am grateful that life on the mission field will impress upon them the truth that this world is not our home–we are just passing through.

When you think of great theologians of the past, Elvis Presley does not immediately come to mind. That said, the King of Rock n Roll may have been on to something with his classic song “Home is Where the Heart Is.” Jesus puts it more clearly, “Where you treasure is, there your heart will be also.” [5] So where is your treasure and your heart? Is it anchored in this world below, or fixed on the heavenly city above?