A Land Not My Own

For those of you who know, and for those hearing it for the first time—this story is a glimpse into the faithfulness of God through the unfamiliar.

I was born in Ukraine, a land that gave me my first breath, my first language, and my first memories. But at the age of nine, the Lord, in His perfect timing, brought a new beginning. On February 14, 2004, I arrived in Stow, Ohio, adopted into the loving arms of my parents, Bill and MaryBeth. That day, America became my new home—a land that was not my own, yet one God had clearly chosen for me.

While I was thrilled to be part of my forever family, there was also fear and uncertainty. Everything was new. The language, the food, the customs—even the way people greeted one another felt foreign. I didn’t understand the words spoken around me; Russian was the only language I knew. But God, in His kindness, provided helpers along the way.

One of those helpers was Helen, a translator from our church, who patiently worked with me as I learned English. She sat beside me, gently guiding me through strange sounds and unfamiliar words. My mom would read to me at home, slowly building my vocabulary one story at a time. These moments were not just about language—they were small miracles, bricks laid on the path of belonging.

As I started school, I found that most students were learning Spanish, so I joined in. Ironically, as I was learning English and Spanish, I began to lose my Russian. Without anyone to speak it with, it slowly slipped away. It was painful to lose part of my identity—but exciting to discover new parts of myself, too.

I didn’t love every subject. Math and science were difficult. But God placed people in my life—teachers, mentors, and especially my parents—who encouraged me, supported me, and never gave up on me. Reading, Language Arts, and Spanish became my passions. These subjects allowed me to express myself and make sense of a world that once felt so foreign.

But it wasn’t just the language or school that was new. I had to learn a whole new way of being. In Ukraine, people lived closely—families next door, hugs were normal, affection was open. In America, I discovered personal space, independence, and the value of asking before embracing someone.

I also had to learn discipline. Back in Ukraine, I often got my way. I was the baby, and my grandma spoiled me. But in America, I quickly learned that tantrums were not going to work. My parents lovingly corrected me. Time-outs were real. Writing Bible verses hundreds of times became part of my growth. And yes—privileges were taken away when I acted out. But through every boundary, there was love. Through every correction, there was a call to something greater.

And that’s what this journey has been—a refining. A calling. A planting in unfamiliar soil.

Though America was not the land of my birth, it has become the place where my identity in Christ has grown. I still carry the heart of Ukraine in me, but now I also carry the lessons, the culture, and the calling God gave me here.

If you ever find yourself in a land not your own, whether literal or emotional—a new job, a new city, a season of grief or uncertainty—take heart. God is not bound by borders. He goes before you, walks beside you, and holds your future in His hands.

“You shall treat the stranger who sojourns with you as the native among you, and you shall love him as yourself, for you were strangers in the land of Egypt: I am the Lord your God.” – Leviticus 19:34

Even when you feel like a foreigner—whether in a place, a situation, or a season—God calls you His own.

So embrace the unknown. Lean into the discomfort. And trust that even when the road ahead feels unfamiliar, God is leading you with purpose. The place He plants you may surprise you… it may even become home.

For His Glory,

Oksana Nicole