Adrift is a book for those who have left home, sought home, or even found home and know what it’s like to live between worlds. A true story of a Canadian missionary kid, living in Germany, who moved to a missionary ship.

As I stared out the window of the van, the buildings of every city loomed ominously, like giant watchdogs forcing us to keep going. The glass was cool as I leaned my head against the window and forced the tears to retreat.

My memories hung loosely together like bulbs from a string of lights. I couldn’t remember when or where they happened or my exact age. I lived moment by moment, a girl in front of an ever-changing landscape of people and places.

There were reasons I did not belong to each of the countries I lived: you are not German, you have a Canadian passport. You are not Canadian, you’ve only lived here for a year. Would I ever fit in?

“Where are you from?”

The question shivers down my spine like ice. I grimace to myself while responding with a smile, “I’m from Canada.” Sometimes I say, “I’m from Germany” or “I live in America.” Other times, “I’m a missionary kid so I’m a little confused.”

When I am honest, “I am from the sea.”

It began when I was 12:

I do not want to live on the sea. My family and I are driving away from my home, school and friends of the last four and a half years in Mosbach Germany. I try to remember the last time I lived on the sea, but the memories of those seven years run together like watercolors. Only a handful of them have distinct shapes, their edges jutting out of the sea of color.

Until that moment my identity was defined by my friends, place, school, activities and home. Like a watercolor shape of white created by filling in the color around it, I knew myself based on the familiar people and places around me. When my family returned to the sea, the color left.

Who am I?