By Diana Sanderson
Have you ever answered the question, “So where is home?” with a pause?
Living between places is not a new human experience. Scripture often describes life with God as a kind of pilgrimage. Abraham leaves his homeland. Israel wanders in the wilderness. In the New Testament, the apostle Peter writes to early Christians scattered across the Roman world and calls them “foreigners and exiles.” The Christian story repeatedly suggests that faith reshapes the way people understand belonging.
After 25 years working with teenagers—first in Ohio, then in Connecticut, and now in Europe—I’ve learned a lot about the Third Culture Kid, or TCK. A TCK is someone who grows up outside the home country or culture of their parents and, for various reasons, may not be fully embedded in the place they’re living. Instead, they exist in a kind of “third culture,” blending their home culture and host culture into a unique identity of their own.
TCKs are often highly adaptable and globally minded but may struggle with identity and a feeling of home—belonging “everywhere and nowhere.”
Although this term refers specifically to kids, I’ve considered what it means to be a Third Culture Adult.
I was born and raised in the Midwest. But directly after college, I moved to Connecticut, where I was offered a position with Young Life, a global youth organization. I quickly adapted and loved everything about my new town—the pace of life, the coastal geography, the proximity to the city, the culture and diversity of the different boroughs.
But because I didn’t grow up here or have family roots in Connecticut, I sometimes felt the absence of something deeper. I loved living here, but I wasn’t from here.
In many ways, that tension mirrors something found in the Gospels.
I see a similar tension in the life of Jesus.
Jesus was thoroughly Jewish, raised in Galilee and steeped in the Hebrew Scriptures. Yet his ministry unfolded in a politically charged environment dominated by Rome. He moved constantly between worlds: rural villages and urban centers, fishermen and religious elites, Jewish communities and Gentile regions.
He also lived with misunderstanding. Religious leaders questioned his authority. Political powers saw him as a threat. Even his own family and closest followers sometimes struggled to grasp what he was saying or doing.
Yet Jesus never flattened culture or ignored it. He worked within it. He met people where they were, entering their world before speaking into it.
Perhaps this is because of where identity is rooted.
In the Gospel narratives, Jesus’ identity consistently flows from his relationship with God rather than from public opinion, political category or nationality. That grounding allows him to cross boundaries without losing himself.
My own story continued to unfold across cultures as well.
After ten years in Connecticut, I decided to accept a position with Young Life which required moving to Poland and the opportunity to work across more than a dozen countries in Central and Eastern Europe. I learned a new language. I made Polish and expat friends. I worked alongside colleagues from countries with incredibly different backgrounds, cultures, and histories. Every day required adaptation.
Although Poland has come to feel like home, not once has anyone mistaken me for being from there.
And so when someone asks me, “Where is home?” I still pause.
Do I say Poland? I’ve lived there for more than a decade, but I’m clearly not Polish.
Do I say Connecticut? Nearly all my travels to the United States start here, and many of my deepest friendships and early adult experiences were formed here. You can still find me returning to Connecticut often. But I didn’t grow up here as a child.
Do I say Ohio? My entire family is still there, but I haven’t lived there in more than twenty years, and sometimes it feels unfamiliar and even unrelatable.
So where is home, where am I from?
In a time when migration, globalization, and hybrid identities are reshaping societies, the experience of living between cultures has become increasingly common.
Connecticut is full of Third Culture Adults like myself. Many people who grew up in other parts of the country—or other parts of the world—now call Connecticut home, perhaps with a small asterisk attached.
We’ve embraced Connecticut, but the experience of entering and adapting to a new place makes us different from others or changes us. We navigated unfamiliar social codes, adjusted accents, adapted humor, and learned to read cultural cues quickly. We may live in Connecticut, but it might never feel entirely like “home” or the place we’re “from.” And the place we once called home may no longer feel entirely like we belong there either.
Many Third Culture Adults eventually confront an important question: will identity be anchored in geography, or in something more enduring?
Over time, many discover that belonging can be relational rather than national—rooted in shared values, community, and purpose rather than a passport or hometown.
Living between worlds can be disorienting. It can also be transformative.
Sometimes the people who feel least at home in a single culture are the very ones best equipped to bring divided worlds together.
And if our deepest sense of home lies somewhere more eternal, then perhaps belonging everywhere—and nowhere—is exactly what it’s supposed to feel like.
Diana Sanderson is a Christian ministry leader with Young Life Europe, where she works to develop youth programs and ministry initiatives across Central and Eastern Europe while based in Pozna, Poland. Her work focuses on building relationships with local leaders and expanding opportunities for teenagers to participate in Young Life camps and programs across the region. She previously lived and worked in Connecticut, and has spent many years serving young people internationally through the global Young Life organization.
