Day 13: Longing for Home {31 Days of Re-entry}

This is the painting I chose to hang in my bedroom when my parents moved houses during my freshman year of college. That was 18 years ago and since then I have moved my possessions 11 times, living in 3 different countries, 2 different states and 6 different cities. Each time I would return to my parent’s house, I would study that painting and imagine I was the girl in the pink dress, wondering how to get home.

In her, I found a kindred spirit and someone who looked as homeless as I felt.

She always seemed to be longing for something more, but never finding the strength to get there. Many Jim and Elisabeth quotes get tossed around, but one of their quotes from a letter written before they were married made an impression on me: “Let not our longing slay the appetite of our living.”

When I was in college, I longed to know which roads I would take–which job I would end up doing and in which city. Who I would befriend and if/when I would get married.

After college in the thick of teaching public school in Chicago, I wondered if life would always be like this. Would I ever meet someone? Have a family? Go overseas like I had always wanted?

When I was finally in China, I longed for a partner and someone to be my “constant” in a world that was ever changing. I yearned for that man and hoped for a family of my own. I wanted to make a difference in a country that makes up one fifth of the world’s population. And yet I still longed for America and the familiar.

And after returning from China, getting married and having children, I now long for a meaningful life. I hope our family can live counter-culturally and stand out from the seemingly homogenous culture that is now our “home.”

Longing.

Let not our longing slay the appetite of our living.

On a run one dreary spring day in Chicago before leaving for China, I ran under the elevated train (El) tracks that were stained, rusted and tagged with graffiti. There was a railing that ran parallel underneath and in it someone had planted a tiny garden that pierced the day with its cheerfulness. Even though you are miserable because of the cloudy days, the crowded streets and the lonely commutes home, you can grow here, God seemed to say.

Many years later, on another run, this time in China, I passed a dried up field in the outskirts of the city which had become a dumping ground for trash and refuse. I had a holy moment when I noticed a single yellow flower bursting through the sad field, thriving in spite of its environment. You can grow anywhere, God seemed to be saying to me.

Let not our longing slay the appetite of our living.

I believe humans will always long for more. We long to know the future and to make a difference. We long for love, community, belonging, peace, healthy challenges, beauty and meaning. This is not just true to the Christian experience, it is true to the human experience.

But the Christian takes the longing one step further by naming our hope and defining our longing for an eternal home.

Yes, there is a place for contentment, being thankful and having a grateful heart, but some degree of longing is appropriate and reminds us that we are out of place here. We are a garden in a concrete jungle and a flower in the wilderness. Our longing is good, but it is temporary. And in the meantime, we are to beautify our surroundings–wherever God places us.

(For practical ways I’m trying to do this, check out Readjusting: Same Tools, New Work Space)

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This post is day 13 of the series “Re-entry: Reflections on Reverse Culture Shock,” a challenge I have taken to write for 31 days. Check out my other posts in the series:

Day 1: Introduction
Day 2: Grieving
Day 3: No One Is Special
Day 4: Wasted Gifts
Day 5: I Never Expected…
Day 6: Identity: Through the Looking Glass
Day 7: Did I mishear God?
Day 8: When You Feel Like Shutting Down
Day 9: Caring for your Dorothy
Day 10: You’re Not the Only One Who’s Changed
Day 11: 12 Race Day Lessons for Serving Overseas
Day 12: Confessions of an Experience Junkie
Day 13: Longing for Home
Day 14: Readjusting: Same Tools, Different Work Space
Day 15: Book Review: The Art of Coming Home
Day 16: The Story of My “Call”
Day 17: Is Missions a “Higher Calling”?
Day 18: And Then I Fell in Love
Day 19: Is God Calling You Overseas?
Day 20: Life Is Not Seasonal
Day 21: What I Took and What I Left Behind
Day 22: Groundless, Weightless, Homeless
Day 23: When the Nations Come to You
Day 24: The Call to Displacement
Day 25: Scripture Anchors for Re-Entry
Day 26: In the Place of Your Exile
Day 27: Resources for Re-entry
Day 28: A Time for Everything: A Prayer of Leaving
Day 29: Journal: 8 Months After Re-Entry
Day 30: 12 Survival Tips for Re-Entry
Day 31: A Blessing
(Day 32: Writing is Narcissistic (And Four Other Reasons Not to Write)–a reflection on this Write 31 Days experience)

Linking up with #WholeMama

Painting: “Christina’s World,” by Andrew Wyeth (American), 1948.

October 13, 2015January 13, 2017

Day 12: Confessions of an Experience Junkie {31 Days of Re-Entry}

I am an experience junkie. There, I said it. I’m addicted to change, hilarity and the absurd, being stretched and emerging with ridiculous tales. I don’t know how I survived college intact since I took advantage of as many opportunities as would possibly fit into my schedule.

My sophomore year, I debated whether or not I should do a six month internship in a developing country. When I asked a trusted professor in his 50’s, he told me, “I think you should do it. If I died tomorrow, you wouldn’t have to mourn me at all for the amount of experiences I’ve already had in my lifetime.”

So I lived with a Ugandan family in a village with no indoor plumbing for six months, commuting into Kampala each day to volunteer at a Compassion International child project (don’t be too impressed–I mostly did filing and editing!).

But I thought of my professor’s words…

When I saw a woman balancing 20 pounds of water on her head and a baby on her back who would most likely never travel more than a few miles from her home in her lifetime.

When I saw dying women in the slums covered in flies and dirty children running all around them.

When I realized the girls my age that I befriended had to scrounge for food to feed me when I spent the night at their house.

And later in China, when my students’ dreams were to “go to America,” and I knew they would most likely only be able to take a job teaching back in their poor village and marry a man chosen by their parents.

In Ningxia, China, with my student, the first in her village to go to college

And I wondered: Would the sum total of their life experiences equal:

a less fulfilling life?

a less abundant life?

a less valuable life?

a less meaningful life?

Using my professor’s words, would the reverse be true of their “limited” existence–that we’d have to mourn their lives more because they hadn’t had the chance to go to summer camp as a kid, travel to 10 different countries or earn a Masters degree?

With every experience I am given, I am given more responsibility. I am held more responsible to tell other’s stories, educate those back in my passport country, to be the one voice in the crowd and in the church that can honestly say, “But it isn’t done that way everywhere.”

And I can honestly say that while these experiences are addicting, this kind of exposure to the world and the level of responsibility that it brings can be almost immobilizing.

I feel guilty that I can spend thousands of dollars travelling when it costs me $300 to educate a girl in Uganda for the entire year.

I am burdened when I think of visiting children in an orphanage in Tajikistan who were paralyzed simply because they were never held, sitting hours on plastic toilets in the courtyard.

I am sickened by the 12 year old Thai girls I saw in Chiang Mai in the arms of their 65 year old white tourist “patrons.”

And I ache for the countless women in China that were forced to have abortions because they would have exceeded the number of children allowed by the government.

Yes, I am an experience addict, but the more that I see of the world, the more I find that the experience math just doesn’t compute. Every life is a valuable life, regardless of the amount of experiences. That soot-stained old man selling sweet potatoes on the side of the road in China every day from 7 am to 10 pm is JUST as valuable as me.

God has gifted me with these opportunities not because I am more loved or valuable, but because He expects me to do something with what I experience.

~~~~~~

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This post is day 12 of the series “Re-entry: Reflections on Reverse Culture Shock,” a challenge I have taken to write for 31 days. Check out my other posts in the series:

October 12, 2015January 13, 2017

Day 11: 12 Race Day Lessons for Serving Overseas {31 Days of Re-Entry}

As mentioned before, one positive effect of re-entry is the perspective you gain on your time spent abroad.

I haven’t been in the blogging world very long, but I have noticed that bloggers seem to like lists, so in solidarity, here’s my contribution to the numerous “list posts.”

(This is not me running.)

I ran my first post-baby half marathon on Sunday and all I could do was keep thinking how similar it was to serving overseas, so here it is:

12 Race-day Lessons for Serving Overseas:

1. Run YOUR race, at YOUR pace.
My race on Sunday wasn’t just for people doing a half marathon, but also included those doing a 10K and a full marathon. Before I realized this, it was easy to compare myself to those around me thinking, They’re running too fast too soon–they’re going to burn out. Or They are sooo slow. Wow. Hope they finish in time. When I approached the six mile mark (of 13), some people around me started sprinting. It wasn’t until then that I realized their race was half as long as mine, so they had a completely different pace. Short-termers and long-termers have entirely different “paces,” so don’t compare your race to theirs!

2. Train beforehand.
Most people wouldn’t just sign up to run 13 miles if they haven’t been running at all, but I know plenty of people who have gone overseas without training. If your organization doesn’t require cross-cultural training, I would definitely recommend finding a church that offers Perspectives or even signing up for a course or two at a nearby Christian College. Many of them offer short week-long courses during Christmas or summer break.

3. Don’t run through the pain.
Cross-cultural workers think that they have to have everything together. Some of this is the fault of the church, who lifts us up as Super Christians and expects us to be perfectly spiritual.  But, just like running, when you run through the pain, you risk further injury–to yourself and to others. It is okay to step out of the race for a while when you need help.

4. Use props, because sometimes it is just boring.
When I run long races, I like to listen to sermons or music. When you are overseas, sometimes you just need to pamper yourself on days when life is difficult.  Listen to music. Watch movies. Read books.  Get a massage. Chat with a friend for two hours. It’s okay if you don’t live exactly like the people in the culture at all times!

5. Notice the course.
The course I ran this weekend was around a reservoir in Colorado. It was a grey and misty day, but I enjoyed the farms, the mountains in the distance and even watching the people around me.  Living abroad, it’s actually pretty impossible NOT to notice when you are in a setting so different from your own, but after five years overseas, I realized I was forgetting to appreciate the world around me. It got too easy to have tunnel vision or even look at the ground on an entire trip to the grocery store because I was just so sick of being stared at (those were the days when I needed to hide out in my apartment for a few days to get recharged).  If this is you, slow down and take notice again.

6. It’s okay to walk sometimes.
Sometimes you don’t need to quit the race entirely, but you’ll be better able to run if you just slow down for a little while. I certainly did this on Sunday and after walking or stopping to stretch, I felt so much more able to keep running. Make space in your schedule for “being.” Most other cultures are actually better at doing this than western ones, so you can learn from your host culture. Take naps when they do. In China, it was an expectation that you would nap after lunch and people would feel so sorry for you if I told them you hadn’t napped. Rest. You will be more productive if you do.

7. Take the free Gatorade.
This race had aide stations every couple miles that offered water and Gatorade for weary runners. If you are living overseas, you may not have many people offering to carry your burdens, but when you do, be sure you take advantage!

8. Use someone to keep pace.
I picked this woman that was actually older than me once I realized she was going at a much steadier pace than I was. When you serve overseas, it is so helpful to have a mentor. Put aside your fear and ask questions of those who have been there longer than you.

9. It’s easier if you have at least one cheerleader on the sidelines.
I ran my first half marathon in Beijing, China, a place where people were so unfamiliar with running for fun that they asked me after the race if I won it. There were spectators, but not many cheerleaders (mainly people scowling at the stupid running people who were stopping up traffic). But being a whitey in a sea of Asians, I stood out enough to be spotted by at least three different people from my organization on the sidelines who cheered me on. Likewise, when you are living overseas, find your “person,” who will check on you relentlessly and pray for you fervently.   (Check out a recent article on A Life Overseas by Craig Thompson, “That One Safe Friend.”)

10. Sometimes you feel alone even when you are running in a crowd.
In a race, overseas, and just in life, we are really running our races alone. Sometimes you can gather adrenaline from the crowd, but at the end of the day, you cross the finish line alone. (Of course, if you know the Lord, you know that you are never truly alone!)

11. If you can, run with a friend.
This was the first race I actually had a friend train with me for and it made it go so much more quickly! In China, I had a “team” of two–including me–but this teammate was the hugest blessing in my life. We were forced to rely on one another. Seek out a friend in country–even if you can just keep in touch via Internet or text messages–who will remind you to keep running on the days you want to bow out.

12. It’s not about winning the race, it’s about finishing.
I will never place in a race. In the five half marathons I have run so far, my goal has always been just to finish (and maybe shave a minute or two off my previous time). It is easy to get competitive when you are living overseas–especially when it comes to language. Remember that just because you pass one person, doesn’t mean that you win the race. Be faithful, my friend. Unlike a half marathon, this race is actually not about you–and you have more than just Gatorade and energy bars fueling you–you have the Holy Spirit! And He wants you to finish strong. (And the last will be first, after all.)

“Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, ²fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith. For the joy set before him he endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. ³Consider him who endured such opposition from sinners, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart.”

Hebrews 12:1-3 (NIV)

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This post is day 11 of the series “Re-entry: Reflections on Reverse Culture Shock,” a challenge I have taken to write for 31 days. Check out my other posts in the series:

Day 1: Introduction
Day 2: Grieving
Day 3: No One Is Special
Day 4: Wasted Gifts
Day 5: I Never Expected…
Day 6: Identity: Through the Looking Glass
Day 7: Did I mishear God?
Day 8: When You Feel Like Shutting Down
Day 9: Caring for your Dorothy
Day 10: You’re Not the Only One Who’s Changed
Day 11: 12 Race Day Lessons for Serving Overseas
Day 12: Confessions of an Experience Junkie
Day 13: Longing for Home
Day 14: Readjusting: Same Tools, Different Work Space
Day 15: Book Review: The Art of Coming Home
Day 16: The Story of My “Call”
Day 17: Is Missions a “Higher Calling”?
Day 18: And Then I Fell in Love
Day 19: Is God Calling You Overseas?
Day 20: Life Is Not Seasonal
Day 21: What I Took and What I Left Behind
Day 22: Groundless, Weightless, Homeless
Day 23: When the Nations Come to You
Day 24: The Call to Displacement
Day 25: Scripture Anchors for Re-Entry
Day 26: In the Place of Your Exile
Day 27: Resources for Re-entry
Day 28: A Time for Everything: A Prayer of Leaving
Day 29: Journal: 8 Months After Re-Entry
Day 30: 12 Survival Tips for Re-Entry
Day 31: A Blessing
(Day 32: Writing is Narcissistic (And Four Other Reasons Not to Write)–a reflection on this Write 31 Days experience)

Linking up with Blessed but Stressed and Velvet Ashes

Photo: By Peter van der Sluijs (Own work) [GFDL (http://www.gnu.org/copyleft/fdl.html) or CC BY-SA 3.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0)], via Wikimedia Commons

October 8, 2015January 13, 2017

Day 8: When You Feel like Shutting Down {31 Days of Re-Entry}

Does your cell phone have a “power saving mode”? One of the features of the phone I use is that it has an “ultra power saving mode,” where you can turn the screen to black and white and only basic calls and texting are functional. When I think about the first few months after returning to America from China, the best way to describe how I felt is to say that I was in “ultra power saving mode.” I did what I could to stay on, but allowed the rest of myself to shut down.

What caused this?

1. I Couldn’t Relate
Life had gone on without me and I just couldn’t catch up. I found myself struggling with a sense of superiority as I listened to friends talk about remodeling their kitchens or “pinning” ideas for their kids’ birthday parties (what was “pinning”?). Instead of entering in, I stood to the side, judging.

2. I Missed Feeling Like I Had Purpose
Most people who serve God overseas are placed in some kind of team. I was on several different teams during my time in China and had gotten used to meeting with the same group several times a week for meals, meetings and prayer. Unlike your usual small group in America, we all had the same job and the same purpose in being there. According to dictionary.com, the word mission means “any important task or duty that is assigned, allotted or self-imposed.” Who wants to go from doing an “important” task to doing a “menial” one?

3. I Didn’t Want Anything to Remind me of China
A couple years ago, my husband and I began to recognize a pattern. Whenever I would read newsletters from my friends who were still serving in China, I would be depressed for a few days after. If a missionary spoke in church, I would find myself in a funk. If someone asked me how I was using my Chinese or if I was keeping in touch with Chinese friends…back in the pit. When I returned from China, the only way I found to cope was to try and shut myself off from anything reminding me of China, because it only seemed to trigger my sense of loss.

November 17, 2010 (4 months after returning)
“Swimming underwater, I feel the pressure of the water all around me. My arms push against the force of it. I am muted, unable to speak and my focus on pushing and physically propelling my body forward inhibits me from thinking, praying or interacting with anyone else. Everyone else is playing on the shore and I am out in the deep.”

I was depressed.

People often ask how long reverse culture shock lasts. The answer: longer than you think it should.

I do feel my experience was compounded by a succession of major life changes immediately following my return–marriage, changing jobs twice, two children and moving cross country all within five years, so it may be a quicker transition for others.

But re-entry can still flatten you when you least expect it.

If you are experiencing any of what I described above, know that you are not alone. God will carry you, my friend, even when you feel like all you want to do is shut down. Slowly, He will revive you and bring you back to life. Trust me.

“Blessed are the poor in spirit,

for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

Blessed are those who mourn,

for they will be comforted.

Blessed are the meek,

for they will inherit the earth.”

Matthew 5: 3-5

If you have gone through re-entry, could you relate to any of these struggles? How long did it take you to feel like you were back at “100% power”?

Linking up with Velvet Ashes

This post is day 8 of the series “Re-entry: Reflections on Reverse Culture Shock,” a challenge I have taken to write for 31 days. Check out my other posts in the series:

Day 1: Introduction
Day 2: Grieving
Day 3: No One Is Special
Day 4: Wasted Gifts
Day 5: I Never Expected…
Day 6: Identity: Through the Looking Glass
Day 7: Did I mishear God?
Day 8: When You Feel Like Shutting Down
Day 9: Caring for your Dorothy
Day 10: You’re Not the Only One Who’s Changed
Day 11: 12 Race Day Lessons for Serving Overseas
Day 12: Confessions of an Experience Junkie
Day 13: Longing for Home
Day 14: Readjusting: Same Tools, Different Work Space
Day 15: Book Review: The Art of Coming Home
Day 16: The Story of My “Call”
Day 17: Is Missions a “Higher Calling”?
Day 18: And Then I Fell in Love
Day 19: Is God Calling You Overseas?
Day 20: Life Is Not Seasonal
Day 21: What I Took and What I Left Behind
Day 22: Groundless, Weightless, Homeless
Day 23: When the Nations Come to You
Day 24: The Call to Displacement
Day 25: Scripture Anchors for Re-Entry
Day 26: In the Place of Your Exile
Day 27: Resources for Re-entry
Day 28: A Time for Everything: A Prayer of Leaving
Day 29: Journal: 8 Months After Re-Entry
Day 30: 12 Survival Tips for Re-Entry
Day 31: A Blessing
(Day 32: Writing is Narcissistic (And Four Other Reasons Not to Write)–a reflection on this Write 31 Days experience)

October 7, 2015January 13, 2017

Day 7: Did I Mishear God? {31 Days of Re-Entry}

Yesterday night I read the following story to my son before bed:

“Once upon a mountaintop, three little trees stood and dreamed of what they wanted to become when they grew up.

The first little tree looked up at the stars twinkling like diamonds above him. ‘I want to hold treasure,’ he said. ‘I want to be covered with gold and filled with precious stones. I will be the most beautiful treasure chest in the world!’

The second little tree looked out at the small stream trickling by on its way to the ocean. ‘I want to be a strong sailing ship, ‘ he said. ‘I want to travel mighty waters and carry powerful kings. I will be the strongest ship in the world!’

The third little tree looked down into the valley below where busy men and busy women worked in a busy town. ‘I don’t want to leave this mountaintop at all,’ she said. ‘I want to grow so tall that when people stop to look at me they will raise their eyes to heaven and think of God. I will be the tallest tree in the world!’

The trees grew and one day three woodcutters came and cut the trees for their own purposes. [My 3-year-old son was very distraught at this point].

The first tree was fashioned into a feed box for animals, the second into a simple fishing boat, and the third into strong beams which were left in the lumberyard. ‘What happened?’ the once-tall tree wondered. ‘All I ever wanted to do was stay on the mountaintop and point to God…'”

Some of the most confusing times of my life have come when I have been convinced that I was doing God’s will, only to have my way blocked. One time I thought the Lord had told me that I would marry a certain person (I didn’t) and the other was when I thought the Lord had told me to go into missions. If you have read any of my previous posts, but especially the one about wasted gifts, you know my angst in leaving China. Since I was 16 years old, I was convinced I would serve the Lord overseas, so when He made it very clear that He wanted me to leave the field, return to America and get married, I couldn’t understand how that could be His will.

Had I misheard God?

I sometimes wonder if the Apostle Paul felt confused when the Holy Spirit prevented him from going to certain cities to tell them about Jesus (Acts 16). Why wouldn’t God want that? And why would God allow him to be imprisoned, when the word missionary itself means “a person SENT”? What good could he do from inside a prison? (wink, wink)

[This is an aside: This will sound melodramatic, but thinking about Paul in prison actually helped me to prepare for motherhood. Stay with me here. When I entered motherhood, I felt what my husband and I call The Narrowing happen even more. Used to being fiercely independent and willing to travel anywhere, I knew that having a child would restrict that in many ways. To be dramatic, I was being put in Parent Prison. How was this better than seeing “the nations” come to Christ? But it was helpful to think of all the ways Paul ministered FROM prison. Think of all the “prison epistles” we wouldn’t have if Paul had never spent that time in a jail cell…]

In addition to Paul, I can also relate to David and Moses’ passion to serve God in a specific way that didn’t go as planned. David’s dream was to be the one to build a temple for the Lord, but God chose his son, Solomon, to do it instead (2 Sam. 7). And when Moses finally tried to right the injustices against the Jews (by fighting and killing a man), the timing was all wrong (Exodus 2). Instead, he fled to Midian for 40 years before he was truly called via burning bush to go back to Egypt and convince Pharaoh to let his people go.

Lately, I have actually been thinking of my time back in the states as “My Midian.” I came here to get married, have children and now “tend the flock.” Moses actually seemed to forget all about the plight of his people, just as many days go by for me now without a thought of China. But God was the one who “heard the groaning; and God remembered his covenant…God saw…and God took notice of them” (Ex. 2:24). This doesn’t remove our responsibility, but it certainly assuages my guilt when I remember that God is the one who sees and delivers–not me. Moses had moved on and was just living his life. And THEN he was called in a way that was unmistakable.

Conclusion to The Three Trees:

“Many many days and nights passed. The three trees nearly forgot their dreams.

But one night golden starlight poured over the first tree as a young woman placed her newborn baby in the feed box…and suddenly the first tree knew he was holding the greatest treasure in the world.

One evening a tired traveler and his friends crowded into the old fishing boat. The traveler fell asleep…Soon a thundering and thrashing storm arose…He knew he did not have the strength to carry so many passengers safely through the wind and rain. The tired man awakened. He stood up, stretched out his hand and said, ‘Peace.’ The storm stopped as quickly as it had begun. And suddenly the second tree knew he was carrying the King of heaven and earth.

One Friday morning, the third tree was startled when her beams were yanked from the forgotten woodpile. She flinched as she was carried through any angry, jeering crowd. She shuddered when soldiers nailed a mans’ hands to her…

But on Sunday morning, when the sun rose and the earth trembled with joy beneath her, the third tree knew that God’s love had changed everything.

It had made the first tree beautiful.

It had made the second tree strong.

And every time people thought of the third tree, they would think of God.

That was better than being the tallest tree in the world.”

The Tale of Three Trees: A Traditional Folktale. Retold by Angela Elwell Hunt. Colorado Springs, CO: Lion Publishing, 1989.

We never really know how God plans to use us, do we? Our gifts, dreams and plans for God are never wasted, but sometimes they may be “up-cycled” into something even more beautiful, strong and glorifying to God than we could have ever asked or imagined.

“For my thoughts are not your thoughts,

neither are your ways my ways,” declares the Lord.

“As the heavens are higher than the earth,

so are my ways higher than your ways

and my thoughts than your thoughts.”

(Is. 55:8-9, NIV)

Have you ever felt you “misheard God”? Which of your dreams for God have gone unrealized?

This post is day 7 of the series “Re-entry: Reflections on Reverse Culture Shock,” a challenge I have taken to write for 31 days. Check out my other posts:

Linking up with Jennifer Dukes Lee

October 4, 2015January 13, 2017

Day 4: Wasted Gifts {31 Days of Re-Entry}

If you read my post yesterday, you know that I struggle with pride, so it will come as no surprise to you that when watching the movie, The Incredibles, I identify with being an undercover super hero. If you haven’t seen the movie, a super hero couple marries and decides to try and live a “normal” suburban life without using their powers, until, of course evil forces threaten and they are coerced into using their powers once again. Currently a stay-at-home-mom in America, I sometimes feel like some of my gifts for language, culture and teaching have gone into hiding. I am Elastigirl incognito.

From childhood, we develop gifts that we often use only for a season, or they are latent in us until we have an opportunity to feed and water them once more. Those who have changed careers, left jobs to stay home with children, immigrants with PhD’s working at McDonald’s in the states, those who were concert pianists, on the varsity team or on the traveling dance team in their childhood can probably relate.

Missionaries develop a unique skill set that is often less useful if they return to their passport country: tribal languages, cultural knowledge, bargaining skills, and the ability to live without running water and electricity aren’t skills that are usually in high demand in the western world. If you return home, are you wasting your gifts? Will you ever use them again?

I returned to the states to marry an amazing man, an actor who had just begun recording audio books full time, but did theater on the side. He studied theater in college and has his MFA in acting. In addition to loving God (and me), His passions in life are books, theater, Frisbee and craft coffee (in changing order depending on the time of day).

Before I met my husband, I got my Masters in Intercultural Studies and spent five years studying Mandarin Chinese, including two years of full time study, fully intending to spend the rest of my life in China. Weeks before we met, I began applying to PhD programs in cultural studies.

But God had different plans for us.

It seemed that each of us, in being called to marriage, were being called to lay our most precious gifts on the altar. Missions and China for me and theater for him.

Upon returning to the states, one of the most painful questions someone could ask me was, “Are you using your Chinese?” It triggered a sense of shame that I was perhaps squandering a gift I had spent hours in honing. Likewise, my husband now knows to brace himself for sadness when he attends his friend’s plays or is asked what show he is currently in.

In the past five years of being back in the states, my husband and I have each had some opportunities to use these latent gifts, which I may go into in another post, but for the most part, we have had to leave these talents buried in the ground.

From the world’s perspective, this is “waste,” but God seems to operate by a different economy and at times, His equations just don’t seem to balance. Living overseas, I was always surprised when the most “qualified” people (fluent in the language, with deep relationships, culturally savvy) were the ones that seemed to leave. How could God want that when they were “doing so much to help the kingdom?”

Similarly, in Scripture, I have always been baffled by the fact that God called Paul, who seems like he would have been the perfect candidate for ministry to the Jews, to preach to the Gentiles. Not logical.

Paul must have felt this loss. It seems to come through in Philippians 3, where he recounts his qualifications as being a Pharisee from the “right” lineage. He knew what he was capable of by the world’s standards. And yet. He counts all these as LOSS for the sake of Christ. He is willing to lose all–his status, education, gifts and abilities–for the sake of knowing Christ.

This is the kind of man God wanted to use to spread His kingdom in the world.

Jesus, take my gifts.

I break this valuable alabaster jar and pour it out for you.

You are worthy of my every sacrifice because you already sacrificed your life for mine.

Nothing done for you or for your glory can ever be considered “waste.”

Thank you, Jesus.

Do you feel that you have latent gifts? What gifts is Christ asking you to lay at His feet until He chooses to use them again?

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This post is day 4 of the series “Re-entry: Reflections on Reverse Culture Shock,” a challenge I have taken to write for 31 days. Check out my other posts in the series:

October 3, 2015January 23, 2018

Day 3: No One Is Special {31 Days of Re-entry}

This short story is my gift to you. It’s my favorite.

Before I met my husband, he needed to have his wisdom teeth removed. As many of us have done, he thought to himself, This anesthetic isn’t going to work on ME. I’m special. And then he woke up. Soon, he began getting tons of text messages from friends he hadn’t heard from in years. “We think you’re special, Adam!” they said. Or, “Praying for you!” Confused, he checked back in his sent box on his phone to see if perhaps he may have sent something in his drugged state. Sure enough, he had sent a message to EVERYONE in his contacts–old professors, clients, acquaintances…everyone: a picture of himself with puffy, black and blue cheeks and bloody gauze sticking out of his mouth with the caption, “No one is special.”

With the exception of a few places in the world, when you go to live in a non-western culture, you feel special. Living in the middle of nowhere in northwest China with four foreigners in our entire city, I literally caused fender benders.

When I visited spots like the Terracotta Warriors or the Great Wall, people would ask to take their picture with me (seriously! I counted 10 different people once!) Once I was reading in a noodle shop when I looked up to see a group of Hui (Muslim) men decked out in National Geographic-worthy garb, holding their cell phones up to sneak a picture of me!

People would jab their friends to look up at us as we walked down the street (even after living on the same street for three years). We were called foreign “experts.” Ha. I’m still not sure what I was supposed to be an expert at. In large meetings at our university, we would always be given the best food, hotel rooms and seats–simply because we were their guests. I certainly felt special.

It was a bit more tame, but the pedestal effect was present in the U.S. as well. I mean, I must have been special to have multiple invitations to speak in small groups and in front of churches, right? People supported me financially, prayerfully and just socially as they prioritized my yearly visits. Missionaries receive a certain kind of fame within the church that is just hard not to enjoy. In the eyes of the church, you are a Super Christian.

And then you’re not.

You step down and walk among all the normal, “boring” Christians again. You go to Target, get a “secular” job and are no longer sought out by people at church who once wanted to meet the “missionary who lives in China.” As annoying as the attention could be on those days back in the country where you just wanted to be anonymous and buy a tube of toothpaste without everyone commenting on your decision, it somehow sunk into your brain that you should be noticed. You’re special, after all.

So now I believe that one of God’s greatest gifts to me was to bring me back. The painful process has reminded me that I am not special. Am I loved by God? Yes. But special? Jesus Himself, though He was equal with God, did not consider equality with God something to be grasped, but took the nature of a servant (Phil. 2). My motives in serving overseas had slowly shifted as I had begun to selfishly enjoy that I was “special.”

I love this quote from Amy Young about her return to the states after living in China for over 20 years:
“Was I willing to stay in a story I thought was interesting on the surface so that people would think I am interesting even though I was fading in it? Was I the kind of person who cared so much about others opinions I was willing to prostitute myself to being interesting? Was being interesting my altar?”
(From the post “A Great Fear {As Pertaining to the Story of my Life}”, by Amy Young of The Messy Middle, Dec. 6, 2013.)

After being back in the states for 3 months, I copied this down in my journal from My Utmost for His Highest, by Oswald Chambers (Oct. 16):

“No Christian has a special work to do. A Christian is called to be Jesus Christ’s own…and someone who does not dictate to Jesus Christ what he intends to do. Our Lord calls us to no special work–He calls us to Himself.”

Stepping out of the spotlight, we are stripped down to the essence of who we truly are–and that can be terrifying. This is grace. He is grace. And our identity is found through our humble acceptance that we are nothing without Christ, but are complete in Him and Him alone.

Have you ever noticed that you have begun enjoying the feeling of being special just because you live overseas? Do you think missionaries are somehow more special than others? If you have returned, how have you dealt with this realization?

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Resources:
Jonathan Trotter wrote this article (that I wish I had written!) for the website, A Life Overseas, called “The Idolatry of Missions.” Such a poignant and true testament to some of what I have experienced.

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This post is day 3 of the series “Re-entry: Reflections on Reverse Culture Shock,” a challenge I have taken to write for 31 days. Check out my other posts in the series:

October 2, 2015January 13, 2017

Day 2: Grieving {31 Days of Re-entry}

Sipping wine out of plastic cups, chatting and laughing about our attempts at painting, my mom and I got to be “creative” (aka paint the same picture as 30 other women in the room) at Studio Vino a few weeks ago. The teacher kept reminding us to take a break from our painting, back up and look from a few steps back. From far away, our paintings actually looked halfway decent!

It has been almost exactly five years since I returned from China and I feel like I’m just now benefitting from the big picture view. Most of my posts this month will include some journal entries from my time of re-entry and, like re-watching a movie with the commentary turned on, I will comment on my thoughts as I share them with you. In eastern (as opposed to western) fashion, these posts may not be as linear as I would like, but more cyclical, repeating similar themes and thoughts. (Or maybe that’s just the female brain?)

Journal
One month before leaving China…

June 18, 2010
“Father God, I give you my grieving over leaving China, my uncertainty about living in Chicago, my fears about transition, identity and purpose, and my hopes and anxieties about marriage. Please prepare my heart for the next step.

Yesterday Adam texted me Joshua 1:9 ‘Be strong and courageous! Do not tremble or be dismayed, for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go.’ Joshua was a man in transition (to say the least).

And I just ‘stumbled’ on this in Isaiah 46: 3-4: ‘Listen to me, O house of Jacob and all the remnant of the house of Israel. You who have been borne by me from birth, and have been carried from the womb; even to your old age, I shall be the same, and even to your graying years I shall bear you! I have done it and I shall carry you; and I shall bear you, and I shall deliver you.'”

After being back in the states several months…

Nov. 11, 2010
Lord God, I have so many emotions and thoughts swirling within me and I don’t know how to make sense of them But I know I miss you. You comfort me from the inside. You don’t change my circumstances, but you change my perspective. Last night it’s as if you were saying, ‘I never promised that you or your life would never change, but I did promise that I would never change.’ Lord, I just feel this massive sense of loss when I think about how much time I put into learning Chinese and studying culture. Am I really supposed to just let all that go?”

Dec. 8, 2010
“…Do you want me to do some counseling regarding my reverse culture shock? Most days I’m fine, but when it hits me, I feel almost like despairing of life. Is this a sign that I’m out of step with your will, Lord? Please give me wisdom.”

Dec. 12, 2010
“Under the circumstances, this can’t be anything but an uncomfortable time. Not only is everything in my life changing, but the ground I am standing on now feels more like a floating island (where it is constantly raining).

So Psalm 139 was comforting this morning: ‘Where can I go from Thy Spirit? Or where can I flee from Thy presence? If I ascend to heaven, Thou art there; if I make my bed in Sheol, Thou art there. If I take the wings of the dawn, if I dwell in the remotest part of the sea, even there Thy hand will lead me, and Thy right hand will lay hold of me.” (v. 7-10). Lately, I wonder if the darkness will overwhelm me, but you say ‘even the darkness is not dark to Thee, and the night is as bright as the day’ (v. 12). Thank you, Lord.”

Reflection
This all sounds so dramatic, but leaving China was very similar to grieving the loss of a loved one. First, you feel that you are drowning and can’t catch your breath, but slowly the grief begins to come in waves, then ripples, then surprises you as it laps at your feet even years later. Leaving a place you love and truly felt called to is grief. But the Lord has been with me each step of this confusing journey. And it has been such a comfort to know that He is the SAME. In retrospect, I wish that I had actually found some counseling. In future posts, I hope to add some resources for those experiencing this that I myself would have appreciated having at the time.

In spite of not getting help (and consequently having weekly meltdowns with my fiancé in the months after the return), one thing I think I did right was turn to Scripture. I find I used many surging wave/lost at sea/drowning metaphors in my journals at the time and Christ was certainly my rock/anchor/true north in a time of life churning all around me.

Have you felt like leaving a culture was like grieving? How have you coped?

Resources:
Check out my friend, Kim’s post on Re-Entry on Velvet Ashes. Her description of the grieving process really resonated with me.

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This post is day 2 of the series “Re-entry: Reflections on Reverse Culture Shock,” a challenge I have taken to write for 31 days. Check out my other posts in the series:

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September 18, 2015January 13, 2017

Keeping Your Bearings When Living Cross-Culturally

It is easy to feel lost when you cross cultures. Really any of the analogies will suffice—lost at sea, stranded in a crowd, wandering in the forest or in a new place in the dark. A few years ago I learned how to scuba dive and the most terrifying feeling was when you became so disoriented that you lost track of the surface of the water. Living cross culturally can feel just like that (though re-entry can feel much the same)—you are swimming along enjoying the experience when you’re suddenly lost, alone and scared. Here are some of the ways to keep your bearings when you begin to lose track of who you are, where you are and what you’re even doing there in the first place.

1. Die to yourself, but don’t lose yourself. You are going to have to die to yourself daily and most of the time you won’t get to choose the crosses. You may as well accept this. God will honor your sacrifice. At the same time, look for ways the Lord is trying to bless you by allowing you to be the person you were before you moved overseas. For me, it was running and cooking. In China, I lived near the countryside, so I could run without everyone in town elbowing their neighbor to come out and check out the strange white girl running without being chased, but I know other foreigners who had gym memberships and used that as their outlet. When I lived in Africa, I laced up and ran through the village in my long skirt at the crack of dawn. You can make it work.

2. You are not going to change the culture, so you may as well start noticing some of the great parts about it. Anyone who has visited China knows those aspects of Chinese culture that just grate westerners the wrong way (no lines, pushing in crowds, never actually saying no even when you mean no—to name a few), but what about those aspects of non-western culture that we need to learn from? Those parts that are actually, possibly MORE biblical, like not being so darn independent and individualistic that we can’t ask for help?

3. Stay calibrated and keep your bearings. Have you ever had to “calibrate” your printer? According to dummies.com:

“Calibration refers to the proper alignment of the inkjet cartridge nozzles to the paper and each other; without a properly calibrated printer, your print quality degrades. You’ll want to calibrate your printer when you see lines appearing fuzzy in artwork or when colored areas in printed images start or stop before they should.”

If your “print quality” is “degrading” or your lines are appearing “fuzzy,” then it’s back to the cross with you for calibration! This is often easier said than done, but taking an hour or two out of my day or week to sit at the feet of Jesus can do wonders for my perspective. Do you need to spend some time being “calibrated” and realigned to Jesus again?

Most of us are familiar with this verse (though the Message version was new to me):

“Even though I am free of the demands and expectations of everyone, I have voluntarily become a servant to any and all in order to reach a wide range of people: religious, nonreligious, meticulous moralists, loose-living immoralists, the defeated, the demoralized—whoever. I didn’t take on their way of life. I kept my bearings in Christ—but I entered their world and tried to experience things from their point of view. I’ve become just about every sort of servant there is in my attempts to lead those I meet into a God-saved life. I did all this because of the Message. I didn’t just want to talk about it; I wanted to be in on it!” 1 Corinthians 9: 22-23 (MSG)

We need to keep our bearings in Christ—not our bearings in ourselves, our culture, our expat community or even in the culture we are striving so hard to adjust to, but our bearings in Christ first. He is our true North in the disorienting confusion of a culture that we start to understand just in time to be eluded by another question.

4. Lastly, enjoy the gift of Kingdom Culture. Kingdom Culture is that sweet spot of culture sharing made possible by belief in the same Savior; the center of a Venn diagram where insider and outsider culture collide into a central culture of love, sacrifice and humility at the foot of the cross. There is nothing like the cross to serve as the great equalizer. I finally discovered this through relationships with other brothers and sisters in Christ who just seemed to “get” me even though our cultures collided in so many ways. This is a special gift of grace made possible by a gracious Father.

All that is gold does not glitter,

Not all those who wander are lost;

The old that is strong does not wither,

Deep roots are not reached by the frost.

From the ashes a fire shall be woken

A light from the shadows shall spring;

Renewed shall be blade that was broken

The crownless again shall be king.

J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring, Chapter 10

What are some of the ways you have creatively been able to retain parts of your identity even though you are living overseas? Are you staying calibrated to the cross? What changes to you need to make to be able to do this? How have you experienced Kingdom Culture?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Linking up with Velvet Ashes

Here are a few related posts that I found interesting:

“The Seven Lies of Living Cross-Culturally,” http://www.thecultureblend.com/?p=2172

“Living Well Where you don’t belong,” http://www.alifeoverseas.com/living-well-where-you-dont-belong/

“17 Things that Change Forever When you Live Abroad,” http://masedimburgo.com/2014/06/04/17-things-change-forever-live-abroad/

Photo: By Jeremy Harbeck (NASA) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons

September 8, 2015January 13, 2017

My Story: When Marriage is Viewed as Selling Out

I had always heard those stories of people being “called” to missions, then meeting someone, falling in love and never actually going. Or, even worse, going and then returning home…for a man (dun, dun, dun). After being “called” to missions myself during a conference at 16, I knew I never wanted to be that girl. I hardly dated in college, wanting to keep myself freed up to be able to go on the mission field. I even broke up with one guy a few years later, telling him, “I don’t want the ‘white picket fence’ kind of life because God has called me to missions.” After going overseas, I was a bit dismayed when I was placed in a city with one female teammate and only two other foreigners in the entire city, both in their upper 50’s. How was I going to meet the godly, single man who was also called to my specific people group in my tiny corner of China? (seriously)

So I tried online dating. “At the very least, you’ll be encouraged by how many matches you get!” another single friend encouraged me. I signed up for EHarmony, filled out my profile and waited for my numerous matches to encourage me that if I tried hard enough, I really could find Mr. Right. But nope. Just one match. (It just may have been the fact that I checked the little box, “Am not willing to leave my current location (China) for someone…”).

After that, I came up with a Grand Plan. I decided the best thing for me to do would be to marry a Chinese American. Perfect. That way we would already have both cultures in common. So I picked the ONE single Chinese American in our organization and dropped a few hints….nothing.

I finally gave up the search, which is of course when I met someone who was out of the question: a guy from Chicago (the city I had dramatically exited with tears, commissioning and prayer meetings five years previously)—an actor with no “calling” to live overseas. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. This was not The Plan. I was too embarrassed to tell anyone that I was “leaving for a guy,” so I said I was taking a “home leave.” When we soon got engaged (3 days after I flew back from China), I was actually nervous to tell people. I knew what they’d be thinking…I thought you were “called.” You sure are quick to abandon your “call” as soon as you meet a guy. Don’t you need God more than you need a husband? Did you mishear God’s will for your life? Why are you selling out?

No one actually said any of these things, but I knew what they’d be thinking because I had thought the same things about others in the past. I felt ashamed of “forsaking my call” for something as “weak” as marriage.

I think part of the problem was that throughout all my years of singleness I had fortified myself with verses affirming my marital status. 1 Corinthians 7:32-35 seemed to portray married people as distracted and bogged down by the world and single people as holy and completely sold out to the Lord. Isaiah 54: 5 called the Lord my “husband and maker,” which I took literally and thus felt completely guilty about when the Lord wasn’t enough of a “husband” and I had to replace him with an earthly husband. When I feared I would never have children, I found comfort in Psalm 17: 13-15 that seemed to say that people with children would have their “portion in this life,” while those who didn’t have children would be satisfied in the Lord. With these verses, I was impenetrable. I wasn’t even open to the prospect of God bringing a man into my life. So when I met the Actor, I was completely blind-sided. I really think it was the only way that I would have let down my guard.

Fast forward ten years, after lots of grieving over the loss of China (weekly tears for the first year), running parallel to the joy of an incredible husband and two devious, yet delightful children, I’ve come to these conclusions:

1. Life is seasonal.

2. Our calling can become our idol.

3. God can and does use any state of being—single or married—to refine us and make us holy.

4. Being a missionary isn’t the ultimate expression of your love for Christ.

I’ll unpack these a bit more in some other posts, but for now I will comment on #3. 1 Corinthians was a huge stumbling block for me as I found myself falling in love, but as a married woman, now I think: Am I more distracted than I was when I was single? Yes. Do I need to worry about meeting my family’s needs? Yes. Am I more worldly? Possibly. But the ultimate question is this: Do I love God less? No. And more importantly, does He love me less? Absolutely not.

So far, marriage and missions have been mutually exclusive for me. Grief, loss of identity and loss of purpose are just a few of the emotional pits I have found myself scrambling out of in the past five years of re-entry, but I have slowly found more peace about “leaving my calling.” One help was reading in Matthew 22, which includes the parable of the marriage feast and Jesus answering the Sadducees’ incessant questions on marriage in heaven. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that He seemingly skirts their questions about marriage and instead reminds them to love the Lord with all their heart, soul and mind. It turns out that marriage wasn’t the issue at all–the issue was always about God having ALL their hearts. Marriage can certainly muddy the waters of devotion, but nothing can change His love for me. In fact, it gives me a pretty good forum to work out that second command to love my neighbor as myself.

Have you ever felt that singleness is viewed as more holy than marriage? Have you felt guilty about leaving the field to get married? How did you reconcile your “call to missions” with your “call to marriage”?

Linking up with Velvet Ashes.

Photo by: “Sandra and the ring” by Lbartley – Own work. Licensed under CC BY-SA 3.0 via Wikimedia Commons

Category: Spiritual Lessons

Day 13: Longing for Home {31 Days of Re-entry}

Day 12: Confessions of an Experience Junkie {31 Days of Re-Entry}

Day 11: 12 Race Day Lessons for Serving Overseas {31 Days of Re-Entry}

Day 8: When You Feel like Shutting Down {31 Days of Re-Entry}

Day 7: Did I Mishear God? {31 Days of Re-Entry}

Day 4: Wasted Gifts {31 Days of Re-Entry}

Day 3: No One Is Special {31 Days of Re-entry}

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Day 2: Grieving {31 Days of Re-entry}

Keeping Your Bearings When Living Cross-Culturally

My Story: When Marriage is Viewed as Selling Out

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