I’m A Stranger Here Myself

Posted by Editorial Staff

By Jeff and Kimberly Brooks

The American travel writer Bill Bryson moved to Britain and lived there for twenty years (his wife is from there).  When he and his family moved back to America after two decades away, he found that twenty years on things had changed quite a lot.  This prompted him to write a book about his homecoming experience entitled I’m a Stranger Here Myself.

Now I’m pretty sure Kimberly read this book, because she reads everything, and I’m pretty sure I haven’t read it.  But the title has always stuck with me:  I’m a Stranger Here Myself.

Scripturally, this is true. Peter calls believers “aliens and strangers in this world” (1 Pet. 2:11), the reason being that we are actually meant for heaven.  In fact, Paul tells us that our citizenship is in heaven (Phil. 3:20).  That’s why this world feels familiar but kind of like it doesn’t fit, either, like we don’t belong.  Because, actually, we are meant for somewhere else.  I’m a stranger here myself.

The point is that we all are familiar with the concept of not totally belonging, of standing on the outside.  We feel this viscerally, deep in the core of our beings.  We get the concept of being a stranger, because—despite our best efforts to seek comfort and security and all those other promise-makers that pretend to satisfy—we still yearn for our true Homeland.

But what about those who don’t even have a little-h homeland to which they can return?  Bryson came back to America after twenty years abroad; what of those whose hometowns have been razed—or no longer welcome them, or never welcomed them in the first place?  What about our brothers and sisters from Afghanistan and Congo and Burma, who yearn for their own homelands but for whom it is simply not feasible to return?

I don’t have the foggiest idea how to solve the worldwide refugee crisis.  You probably don’t, either.  But we, whether American or Korean or Pashtu or Karen or whatever we are, share this yearning for something—for Someone—beyond.  And this, my friends, is a connection point.  We don’t have to be super amazing saints to simply say hello to someone dressed differently from us at Wal-Mart.  Or greet a new neighbor when they are out in the yard.  Or, even better, greet a new neighbor when they are cooking something that smells really good…

That’s one thing I love about Adam Lee (the director) and the volunteers at EGA:  it’s not earth-shattering stuff every Saturday. There are classes—geared toward school-aged students from all over the world—in soccer and crafts and music and painting and computer and all kinds of topics that I should remember but don’t. Kimberly is crafty, so she teaches crafts.  I play soccer, so I help with soccer.  And so on. There are chances every week to build relationships and share the hope of Christ—sometimes directly.  These are a bunch of people who are passionate about certain things sharing those passions with students and praying that God will do a lot with the little bit we offer him.  

Personally, it’s been pretty wonderful to get to know these students and families and hear pieces of their stories.  Sometimes we get to intersect with those stories:  the couple of Kimberly’s crafts girls that came over to decorate our Christmas tree for a few years, some of those soccer guys I met when they were in middle school who are now in college—and so on.  And the prayer, always, is that Jesus will become a part—and the Center—of their (and our) stories, too.  Because, in fact, we are all strangers here, strangers in need of welcome.  Jesus—who became a Stranger himself, wandering our dusty roads—extends the welcome from heaven to us, and now we have the chance to do the same…


Jeff and Kimberly Brooks have lived in Fort Worth for 13 years and are members of Hulen Street Church.  Both are educators employed by Joshua ISD:  Kimberly teaches first grade at Caddo Grove Elementary and Jeff teaches algebra and coaches soccer and cross-country at Joshua High School.  They have volunteered with EG Academy since its inception and are thankful to be a small part of extending Christ’s welcome to the nations.