My African friend

When I moved to Georgia, one of my very first friends was Kari. She and I went to church together and quickly became very close "church friends". Kari grew up in the Ivory Coast because her parents were missionaries there. Her family moved back to the States when she was in middle school. After college, Kari went back to Africa and began serving in Senegal. During her time there, God did crazy stuff in her life- and she came home, got married, and then moved with her new husband to France for him to go to medical school.

(Kari and her husband being tourists in Hungary)

She has a blog that I love reading- mainly because I get to know what's going on in her life, but also because she often makes me stop and think about things that my mind wouldn't normally venture toward.

This entry on her blog is recognizing a French-Senegalese author that Kari recently read about.

But, the last sentences in her writing stopped me on a dime.

She wrote, "our roots are just the beginning of who we are"

Isn't that true? So much of who I am relates to where I'm from, but it's not my entire identity. I'm not just from the South. I'm not only from a Christian home. I'm not just a Smith.

Those things are just the start of who I am. But I'm not defined, limited, or acclaimed by my beginnings. It's simply the beginning.