Snow is falling hard outside my window. It's supposed to; it's winter in Idaho. Shoveling it, driving in it, playing in it all go with the territory here. This is what winter is supposed to look like. Unless, of course, you're from Florida.
Guess where I'm from.
I am a stranger in a strange land. Marrying a Montanan, I found myself drawn away from my native tropical homeland to the rugged beauty and wonder of the Rocky Mountain Northwest. Its wide vistas and clear streams cascading through mountains seduced me to leave behind all that I knew of palm trees, beaches, and hurricane season.
Maybe you do, too. As Eugene Peterson describes it in Run with the Horses, "The essential meaning of exile is that we are where we don't want to be. We are separated from home. We are not permitted to reside in the place where we comprehend and appreciate our surroundings. … But this very strangeness can open up new reality to us."I have chosen this life. And I've been ...1