Worry & Stress Don't Make You Pretty

"Restlessness and impatience change nothing except our peace and joy. Peace does not dwell in outward things, but in the heart prepared to wait trustfully and quietly on Him who has all things safely in His hands."

- Elisabeth Elliot

 I'm in a strange period of waiting right now (when are things never "strange" though?). I've been married almost two months and it has been amazing, we've moved to Omaha into a cozy apartment that is slowly becoming home-y, and we're getting into the swing of life without school and with big adult responsibilities. He has been quite liking his job, and I have been... home a lot. You see, I have technically been hired since mid-July, but then there was the wedding (and the fact that I didn't even live in the state of the job until August/September), and then honeymoon and a family thing in Canada. I had to take some classes for this job to get fully certified and understood that once I did that, I would be good to go and get matched up to care for a family! Just kidding.... There was more paperwork on the company's end to get together and apparently that has been taking longer than expected. And that's where the waiting and restlessness and impatience come in. Sense a theme?

A new place, no friends (physically present) except for my husband (and he's awesome!), and no work to occupy my time or make me feel useful. In the beginning this "extra summer" was nice. I had time to unpack and settle us into our new apartment while he was at work, and I had time to relax and NOT plan a wedding. But that relaxing slowly turned into boredom and impatience and a little bit of loneliness.

But...

a Facebook friend from Asbury, Natalie, recently shared that quote from Elisabeth Elliot and it absolutely struck me to the core. I shared it on my own page and then later that same day I put it on my desktop background of my computer. I wanted to read those words until they were tattooed on my heart, because that made all my complaining and restless smack me upside the head, and then I realized that I CAN'T CHANGE ANYTHING by being restless and impatient.

Nope, not a single thing.

I read this quote daily lately, and often more than once a day. Each time I read it, it feels new. Which is good because then it feels fresh and strikes me new each time, but it is also bad because then is it truly sticking with me? Do I just like the fancy idea of it, or do I truly believe that there is peace and joy in Christ? I do believe there is peace and joy in Christ. The issue comes in as matter of whether I let Him be in control or not. My "control" means chaos; His control means exactly as the word says: control. He has things under complete control.

I'm reminded of another favorite quote of mine that is from Francis Chan in his book Crazy Love:

"Both worry and stress reek of arrogance. They declare our tendency to forget that we've been forgiven, that our lives are brief ... and that in the context of God's strength, our problems are small, indeed.”

Worry and stress reek of arrogance. Reek. Do you want to smell bad? Worry and stress don't make us any better, any prettier, any richer, any more successful or anything! Worry and stress only destroy and deteriorate, just as Elisabeth Elliot said that restlessness and impatience only change our peace and joy. It turns our peace and joy into a pile of rubble, into reeking rubble of arrogance. That is prideful, my friends, and it gets you no where.

The Lord has been asking me to step down from my pride and arrogance. He has been asking me to take His hand and let Him pull me up out of the reeking pile of rubble I'm sitting in as I wait impatiently for "my life to change." This is a job that will make me feel useful and like I am making a difference. I'll get to care for children with special needs, and help families who need the rest I have been taking for granted. I think God is telling me that I need step out of the pride that tells me that my worth is there, and not here, alone in my apartment with my God. He is asking me to find peace and rest and assurance and companionship with Him. Only Him. He says, "Come here, I will satisfy you. Just take my hand and sit with Me for while."

So He gives me this incredible offer to be with Him and have everything I need. But what do I do? I seek peace in the "outward things." I clean, I set up the apartment, I sleep in, I call family and friends who live far away, I play video games, I read, I watch tv shows (homework free!) with my husband, and I keep worrying about what I'll do tomorrow and where the money will come from and how I'll ever make a difference in people's lives if I don't ever leave my apartment. I begin to doubt that I am qualified for this job. My body is rested, but my soul is restless, and I know I wasn't made to be like this.

I forget that GOD IS IN CONTROL. He has all things safely in His hands. ALL things. 

And He wants to be the love of my life, the One who satisfies me completely, whether I have all worldly things I desire or nothing at all... He wants me. He is the One who holds me together, who knows what is in store for me, and who created me to make a difference in this world... in His way, in His timing. 

In Christ, there is no room for worry, stress, restlessness, and impatience. There is only room for trust, love, relationship, peace, joy... and so, so much more. In the midst of confusion and restlessness, he brings unexplainable peace and joy. What. A. Savior. 

Please, take a note from me and act now. Spend time with Jesus. Don't let the foxes in the vineyard steal your joy. 

[Here's one of my favorite songs by Audrey Assad]:

Restless by Audrey Assad

The Things We Make Homes Out Of

Sometimes you don't figure out that somewhere has been home until you have left it. 

When you're driving or flying away to a place that you think is more home is often when you realize that the road or sky you're traveling through is really the home you're more familiar with. When you're somewhere else, you realize that where you are is even less home than where you came from. The problem is that even though you're always searching for the "right" answer to "where is home?" it's a question that can never be honestly answered correctly the same way twice. Home is a constantly evolving place/feeling/smell/taste/sound/memory. Fill in the blank as you please.

Sometimes home can be a person.  This is a home that is - for a moment - secure, happy, and everything you could ever dream a home to be. It has the red couches you've pictured and the bay window that looks out to the sea. It has shelves full of books you hope someday to read. But if you make a home out of a person, then you're sinking alongside the man who built his house on the sand. You're asking for it to crumble, you're asking for unsteadiness and fast sinking dreams. People change, people have needs, and people move away. If you make a home out of a person, you'll forget where you came from and who you were before you moved in. You can't cling to that kind of a home forever.

Sometimes home can be a routine. It's a place where you have a schedule and are expected to get things done on a deadline. But that's like asking home to be something you can place on a calendar for every day of the week. It's like asking home to be something consistent and predictable. But anyone who has ever tried to have a home knows that plumbing gets damaged, windows get cracked, and the creaky wooden stairs eventually drive you up the walls. Repairs are necessary, funds are hard to come across, and at times you have to decide whether you'll keep it up and work hard or pack up and move on. You can't expect this house to stand forever.

Sometimes you can make a home out of a memory. This is the kind of home that can exist in a place no matter how large or small. This kind of home exists in your heart and your mind. This home is often shared with one or more other residents, but when asked for details, the residents will remember different pictures on the fridge and varied shades of blue on the bathroom walls. It's a shared home, but not really shared at all. Time is absent in this home and the homeowner of this place really only keeps paying the rent in order to go back to smell that mix of sappy nostalgia and naive bliss. This the home that looks perfect in pictures, but when visited years later the owner realizes that it's not what it once was. Walls are rotted and colors on the walls aren't as bright as they used to be. Often this home moves on without its resident or any sort of consent. This home slowly changes and, in a bittersweet way, fades without warning. This home says goodbye long before the resident realizes it is gone. Your memory can't hold this home together forever.

But, if you make a home out of a future, out of a hope, and out of the things that God promises, you willl realize sooner or later that home is not what you previously thought it ought to be. Your definition of home will be entirely flipped around. It will be something to rejoice in, not feel bitter about. You will realize that "where is home?" and "where are you from?" are actually quite ridiculous questions, and think that perhaps we should be asking "where is your final destination?" and then pray for a heavenly answer. You will realize that when you make a home out of anything past or present that it is often not there by the time you get back to it. 

I think there is a certain kind of strength in calling more than one place "home." There's a boldness in saying, "right here is home and after I drive 500 miles across the country or fly for 32 hours, I will be home then, too." There is a willingness to grow and accept change that comes from speaking those words and knowing that a home doesn't have to be a place with four walls that boxes you in and keeps you still and contained. Rather, in allowing "home" to be more places than one, you allow yourself freedom to roam. You allow yourself opportunity to realize the blessing it is that earth was not made to be our home. And Lord willing, you will find yourself in heaven one day and never have to call anywhere else Home ever again. You were made to call heaven your permanent Home, and the heavenly Father has a room waiting for you. You can make a Home out of God's promise of forever.

"Do not let your hearts be troubled. You believe in God; believe also in me. My Father's house has many rooms; if that were not so, would I have told you that I am going there to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me so that you also may be where I am. You know the way to the place where I am going." John 14: 1 - 4 (NIV)

"But our citizenship is in heaven. And we eagerly await a Savior from there, the Lord Jesus Christ." Philippians 3:20 (NIV)

The What-Ifs of a TCK Life

I try to be honest when I write on this blog, and today I have to be honest with you, my readers, about some of my human flaws. I don't know if this will be a happy, neutral, or sad post, but it's something that has been on my heart lately.

I have to admit that I have spent a lot of time wondering what my life could have looked like. I wonder things like who would I be, what would my life be like, and where would I be now if I had never moved overseas to Indonesia and instead spent all my years in the States. Actually, I think a lot of us think about what life "would have been like" if we had not done this or gone there. It's a natural human reaction to think about "what ifs" and dream of a different life. But it's also a human reaction that shows our ungratefulness and regret. It's a broken system, an unrealistic world that will never be because all that time is past. I never really feel fulfilled when I think about the what ifs of life, instead it usually leaves me feeling emptier and kind of sad, yet for some reason I still like to entertain that aspect of life regardless.

Some of my what ifs are somewhat realistic, and some... not so much. Some are dreams of less heartache of missing people because - in my theoretical dream life of what ifs - I only know the people in my town or state, and the rest are at least in the same country that I am in. And for me, just the same country is sometimes enough for me to feel closer. Some are dreams of having gotten to be in a big high school and be a "normal" teenager growing up in a normal high school where it's not a small bubble where everyone knows your business and getting to go to prom. Some are dreams of getting to go through driver's ed (even though it's awful, I hear) and getting my license when I turned 16. Some are dreams of getting to grow up with my best friend next door and be friends with someone I have known my whole life. Instead, I get to meet new people every 10 years, and no one is a "life-long" best friend. Some are dreams of getting to play on the 4th and 5th graders' playground at Monroe Elementary, because I had to move away before I got to move up. Some are dreams of getting to have my grandparents and aunts and uncles at my graduation, because at least they wouldn't have to spend a lot of money and travel half way across the world to get there. I often get stuck in trying to imagine what it would feel like to know where "home" is, and not just trying to figure out some abstract perspective of it, or trying to accept that I don't have a home, or trying to come up with a five part answer to the question "so, where are you from?"

Sometimes I am thankful that my family remained fairly "western" when we lived in Indonesia. Sometimes, though, I feel like an in between TCK who isn't quite American but isn't quite influenced by the Indonesian culture either. I have a lot of American TCK friends who are more Indonesian than I am, even if they were not in Indonesia longer than I was. Even they make me feel like I don't belong. They know more of the language, they love the food more, they lived closer to the locals and had relationships with them that I couldn't really have. I learned a lot of the language, but not as much as they did. Their parents grew up in Indonesia and have generations of influence, but my parents were in Indonesia as long as I was. They know more Indonesian songs, and make fun of dangdut in a way that I can't fully understand. I feel like I don't know where I belong on the "TCK chart."

I just don't know how to feel sometimes when I don't fit in with Americans like I'm "supposed to" and when I don't fit in with TCKs who grew up with me in Indonesia either. It is easy to complain when I compare my life to someone else's life. It is easy to complain and compare when I'm in the middle of a lifestyle that is already a middle of two worlds. But does that give me any excuse to justify my complaints and justify dreaming of a different life? No, it absolutely does not. I am still being ungrateful when I wish for a different life, and I am still being sinful when I don't thank God for every blessing and hardship he has given me. He has given me life and for that alone I should be grateful. God did not give me my life so that I could complain and wish for something different. God gave me my life, and all the unique things about it, so that I could have my own place in this world to be a part of other peoples' lives and make my own mark on the world.

Maybe these are all okay things to miss. Maybe not being a TCK would bore me to death and I would have spent my whole life wishing for something more, craving something other than a non-TCK life. Perhaps I am a little bit disillusioned at what a non-TCK's life is like. Maybe if I had gotten these things in my life, it would have been a good thing - but maybe it would have been really, really bad for me. I have heard before that when God says no to something in your life, he is protecting you from something worse than what is going to happen to you. It's not important for me to figure out. In fact, the answer to what would have happened is not anything I need to figure out. What difference will it make in my life?

 God has given me an incredible life - through the good times and the bad times - and I should be thanking Him for each day of breath that He has granted me. I should be thankful for the culture that I got to experience first-hand, the food I got to eat, the relationships I made, and the person all my experiences have made me today. Each direction my life has gone has been tailored perfectly for what I have needed because my God knows me better than anyone, and He is my life-long best friend that I have always had. He is my Home, and all of those dreams of a what if world are meaningless when I look at what God has done in my life and as I can only imagine what else He is going to do.

The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not be in want.

He makes me lie down in green pastures, 

he leads me beside quiet waters,

he restores my soul.

He guides me in paths of righteousness for his name's sake.

Even though I walk

 through the valley of the shadow of death,

I will fear no evil,

for you are with me;

your rod and your staff,

they comfort me.

You prepare a table before me 

in the presence of my enemies.

You anoint my head with oil;

my cup overflows.

Surely goodness and love will follow me

all the days of my life,

and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.

{Psalm 23}

Redefinition

Did you know that you can look up the word "definition" in a dictionary and receive an answer? It seems a bit redundant to me, but I guess I can see there being a need for it just for definition sake. But did you also know that if you look up the definition of "definition" that one of the answers you will get is, "a statement expressing the essential nature of something." That's all it is - I know, I was not surprised either. Although, I don't really know what I expected to get otherwise. My point is, I looked up "definition" because I wanted to know what actually qualified something as a definition. It seems words, laws, trends, and all things society have been adjusted accordingly to how someone wants the said thing to be defined. Is definition something I can create for myself then? If you really want me to go on a word spree about that, just send me back to Mr. Schaffer's 11th and 12th grade AP English classes (because I would love to talk to him about that!).

No, where I am going to go with that, is towards what things have meant for me - what they have been defined as for me - over the course of my life. Since I moved back to the United States a little over a year ago, I have had quite a few moments of culture shock and transition chaos and pain. [And not to mention, I made it 11 months in the States before I left it again - not even a whole year (ugh)!] I have written about some of it, and I have talked to friends about a lot, and kept a good bit of it to myself. But one thing that really got to me near the end of this last semester of freshman year of university was realizing what things mean to me now.

I spent a lot of time during my 11th and 12th grade years of high school preparing for and thinking about what my first year of college would look like, and what the summer before it would look like. I could see it: the summer would mean my sister's wedding, the MK transition seminar at Cedarville for 2 weeks, spend time in Janesville with my sister and new brother-in-law, figure out how to get to Kentucky for school, and pack all my stuff up to move into a dorm room, and then the school year would just be something I would have to figure out like every other "normal" high school graduate does - there was nothing too different about that, right?

But not once did I think about what the summer after freshman year would look like. I can honestly say I did not prepare for that one bit. It hit me near the middle of the spring semester when people began talking about their summer plans and going home for the summer and getting their summer job back and spending time with friends and family. I held my breath during those conversations a lot because I was afraid to be asked what my summer plans were because, frankly, I didn't have any plans. I didn't even have friends to plan summer things to do with because all my friends are spread out across the globe - literally! I had 4 different locations to go if I wanted to visit any of my immediate family members, or I could just stay in Kentucky for the summer. I really did not know.

I had joked with my friend Amanda about coming to Canada with her at some point, and as summer neared, it became a reality and we started planning our summer together. As I began packing up and figuring out my passport stuff, it all began to really hit me: this was all mostly new to me. Suddenly the end of the school year and graduation did not necessarily mean extreme heartbreak and long-expected goodbyes to people who were going across the globe. Suddenly packing for summer meant find somewhere called "home" to store my entire dorm room of stuff and pack what I need for 3 months, and it no longer meant grab this red suitcase and pack less than 50 pounds of whatever you need for the summer as we drive around the United States visiting people. Suddenly going out of the country by myself "just for fun" was an option and my summer plans were focused mostly on just me and not really influenced by 4 other family members' plans for the summer. I wasn't playing tag-along anymore. I wasn't playing the red suitcase game anymore.

Being in university, being an adult, and (for a part of the year) living on my own means a lot of redefinition. If I had not made any summer plans for myself, I would be in a bit of chaos. I like the independence that comes with moving out and going to university, I like the opportunities that I am given to spend half of a summer in Canada, and I have really learned to appreciate kind and generous people who will let me store over half of my belongings in their basement and people who will house and feed me for two months.

It is sort of intimidating and scary to realize how much I am on my own right now, but I know that this may not last forever and I should really take advantage of the time and freedom and independence that I have now. With each new step of in my life, I am redefining what the end of each school year means for me. I am redefining what summer means and packing means, and I am constantly redefining what "home" means. I get to chose what the essential nature of these things mean for me, while it may mean something completely different for someone else. I am thankful that things will not always be as they were, while also a little bit sad that some things will never be the same. Life comes with change, and if we can't accept that and embrace it, how are we going to every fully live life for what it can offer us?

Tips for Third Culture Kids [Entering College]

One day last semester I was sitting in class and had this sudden idea to write out a list of my TCK moments since I moved to the States. This is not a complete list, but it is what I have so far. Maybe in the future there will be a part 2 (and so forth). I hope you enjoy this and find you can relate to it to some extent!

• Find a church. Be open, visit more than one church in your area, ask people where they go and invite yourself, make a list of what you like and dislike about each one, look for somewhere you could call "home". My church became a piece of home away from "home" for me and I gained a family inside the people who I went to church with. 
• Go to MuKappa events. If you school has a MuKappa, that is. Look for the other MKs and TCKs on your campus and find things to do with them. You may not get along with all of them, but you will find you treasure those little bits of time spent with them. Talk about your countries with one another.
• Embrace the flip flops. It will keep you sane. (If you grew up in a country where you wore them a lot, anyway.)
• Don't be afraid to ask for rides. Face it, you probably won't have your license for a couple years during college. I was used to being able to drive around in Indonesia for a while and I got to the States and couldn't drive anymore. Don't be afraid to ask for help to get places. (It's humbling, too.) 
• Learn how to tip. Tipping is confusing if you haven't been living in the States. Tipping is different in every country. Don't be embarrassed to ask your friends/peers how to tip (or you can just google it). 
• Go to a Superbowl party, even if you don't like football (not futbol). It's a great experience, you make friends, you learn about the American culture a lot, and it's great food! You don't even have to watch the game in order to have fun. 
• Talk to TCKs/MKs from different areas of the world than you. You may actually find that you are surprised by how different those worlds are, yet how much you can still relate to them. TCKs/MKs are a special kind of people, but you already knew that. It may take a little more effort, but it is totally worth it and you can learn about more cultures.
• If you get a chance to, carry your country's flag at an event/ceremony. It may be a bit embarrassing and the flag may slap you in the face as you walk through the chapel aisles, but it's a great experience and you get to show people where you're from. 
• Teach people some vocabulary from your language. Some people really love learning new languages. Chances are, you're going to slip words from your language on a weekly basis and letting your friends in on that will be a great bonding point! 
• Use your language even if no else knows it. I wish I used my Indonesian more often because I feel like I am forgetting it. It's kind of fun to throw it out there every once in a while.
• Be patient with the lack of convenient and cheap public transportation in America. Also be aware that you can't really walk many places. I grew up in a country with super convenient public transportation (though not very clean) and it is weird to be in the States where it's expensive and not easy to get.
• Just say you're from the country you identify with. Some people care, and some don't care. Get over it and move on in the conversation if they don't. Just try not to take it personally. If they do care, you may get a really amazing conversation out it. Don't have too many expectations with that conversation, but take what you can get.
• Find friends who live in the area and get away from campus every once in a while. You will appreciate a home cooked meal and time in a real house, and dorm life gets a little bit suffocating sometimes. You will also probably love the family time, even if it's not your family. 
• Be thankful for soft toilet paper. Most college dorms don't give you the highest quality toilet paper. It sounds strange to be thankful for that, but trust me, you will appreciate it. It's the little things. 
• Remember that candy that you used to not be able to get is no longer as precious. Eat that Reese's Peanut Butter cup when you get it! You will get another one before the next year. And don't be ashamed if you feel like putting Ranch dressing on everything you eat. That's "unlimited," now, too. 
• It's okay to panic if you don't know where you're going for the next break. Your roommate may know where he/she is going for every single 5 day weekend and all the breaks, but take it one break at a time. Enjoy the fact that you sort of have the entire world to chose from and go visit friends you haven't seen in a while, go to a MuKappa event (like the Spring Break trip in Florida!) or try and get invited to go home with a friend from school. College offers a lot of opportunities for those random road trips you always dreamed of.
• If you're a U.S. Citizen and your passport expires, remember that this time you won't get kicked out of the country. But also remember to renew it ASAP so you can leave the country. Your passport might also become a source of ID for you for a good amount of time. Don't lose it. 
• Make sure you know where a copy of your birth certificate is. You will be amazed at how many times you need to use it as a source document for various things. Also make sure you have your Social Security card available and in your possession/close to you. You're going to use that a lot, too. 
• If you're going to study another language at school, beware that you're probably going to sit in class the entire time reminding yourself to not think in any other language. It wil be exhausting and confusing and your professor may not understand when you answer his Spanish questions in Indonesian. 
• Let yourself fall in love with Pandora and Netflix. These don't work overseas (at least most countries as far as I am aware). Take advantage of the fact that you have them now!
• It's okay if you start feeling "at home" at college. It is actually a really nice thing if you let it be so. You're going to be there for at least 4 years probably, so let it become something familiar and "homey". Otherwise you may feel like you're walking on eggshells for the next four years looking for somewhere to call home.
• Spend some time on YouTube looking up commercials from your country. Laugh and appreciate the ridiculousness of it all. 
• Google Maps will make you homesick, but use it to your advantage to look at the old familiar streets where you grew up. Find all the houses you have lived in around the world. Thank the internet for having Google Maps. 
• When fall/winter comes, observe what people wear. You're going to be cold, so invest in ear muffs and/or a hat. 
• Realize that other people have "small world" moments, too. Learn to hold back sometimes on your stories of small world connections. There is a time to share those stories, and a time to be quiet and listen to other people be excited about their moment.
• Realize that your life experiences are just as important as someone who has never left the city they were born in. They may not be a world traveller, but chances are they have some pretty amazing life experiences to talk about, too! Ask them questions about their life.
• If you see an even on campus has free food offered, go. You get food, and you could make a friend! 
• If you live in KY (or anywhere like it), be prepared for really confusing weather. Not only did I transition from two seasons to four seasons, but one day it will snow an d the next it will be T-shirt weather. Learn to check the weather report every morning before you get dressed. Layers are helpful.  
• Don't worry if you feel weird when you crave the strangest foods in situations that don't typically call for it. I often crave jagung bakar (corn) whenever I would go to a bonfire. 
• When it comes time to pack up at the end of the semester, rent a storage unit with friends or find someone in the area who will store your things. You will be amazed by how much stuff you have accumulated over the school year. Since I didn't have anywhere to store a lot of my stuff at the beginning, I pretty much had everything I owned in my dorm room. You're not going to be able to take all your stuff with you wherever you end up for summer. 
• And finally, keep in contact with your friends from where you grew up. It doesn't have to be constant or super significant (though that latter is quite nice to have), but do stay in touch. You will appreciate having those people when you feel like no one knows you or the country you grew up in. Having someone like that to text, call, or Skype can be a life-saver. 

A Tourist In My Own Home

An excerpt from The Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini

We had crossed the border and the signs of poverty were everywhere. On either side of the road, I saw chains of little villages sprouting here and there, like discarded toys among the rocks, broken mud houses and huts consisting of little more than four wooden poles and a tattered cloth as a roof. I saw children dressed in rags chasing a soccer ball outside the huts...a woman in a brown burqa carried a large clay pot on her shoulder, down a rutted path toward a string of mud houses.
"Strange," I said.
"What?"
"I feel like a tourist in my own country," I said, taking in a goatherd leading a half-dozen emaciated goats along the side of the road.
Farid snickered. Tossed his cigarette. "You still think of this place as your country?"
"I think a part of me always will," I said, more defensively than I had intended.
"After twenty years of living in America," he said, swerving the truck to avoid a pothole the size of a beach ball.
I nodded. "I grew up in Afghanistan."
...
He pointed to an old man dressed in ragged clothes trudging down a dirt path, a large burlap pack filled with scrub grass tied to his back. "That's the real Afghanistan, Agha sahib. That's the Afghanistan I know. You? You've always been a tourist here, you just didn't know it."
                                                                                                                                                                     

I have been reading The Kite Runner for a while now, and I keep spotting cultural things that stand out to me. But nothing has ever stood out to me as intensely as this passage here. The main character, Amir (sometimes called Agha Sahib), returns to Afghanistan, the country he was born and raised in, after having been exiled to America when he was a teenager. In this excerpt he is experiencing reverse culture shock - the same situation I am in now that I am back in America, although it is confusing to me because I spent the first 9 years of my life in America, and the next 9 in Indonesia. I don't know which one is more reverse culture shock at this point. I still can't figure out which country I feel more like a tourist in. And that's what got me. I found myself getting defensive along with Amir. I felt like Farid was telling me that I am a tourist in Indonesia. I felt like Farid was personally trying to convince me that I didn't belong in Indonesia, that it was never my home.

Amir is seeing all of these things about his country - the people, the huts, the roads, the potholes, the goats, etc. Maybe he does not recognize that from when he was there, but I recognize those parts of Indonesia. I don't know if Amir feels the same way I do: that I know it is my home, and I don't want Farid to try to convince me that I never belonged there. Maybe Amir and I are tourists in Afghanistan and Indonesia, but does that mean that we aren't allowed to have felt like it was home while we lived there? Does that null our memories that we made in our countries? It does not. And I guess Farid just doesn't see that. Farid sees Afghanistan the way it has changed since Amir left. Amir is not home in this "new" Afghanistan, but he is still home with his memories there. If I were to go back to Indonesia in the near future, I would likely have a similar experience: it would not be as I left it, as I remembered it, but it would still hold all those memories I made and the life experiences I had there. It doesn't make it less where I once belonged.

I wonder if Amir gets that. I felt as though I got just as defensive (if not more) as Amir did when Farid kept snickering at him. Farid doesn't understand what Amir is going through. And that makes me thankful for the people who can understand what all the other TCKs and I are going through in transition, culture shock, and reverse culture shock. And I am thankful for books that grab at my heart and make me defend "my country", even if I am a tourist in my own home.

Can College be Home?

Isn't it interesting how easily we can go through life without really thinking about it? It is to me, at least.  I almost laugh at myself for just slipping into college life and new country transition so smoothly. Not an "oh that's hilarious" laugh, but more of an "I just caught myself completely off guard" laugh. I didn't expect my transition to be this "simple", I guess I could say. I have been in college for a little over two months now, and it feels so natural.

This past weekend we got Friday off for Fall Break - or as some of my friends are calling it, "Fall Pause". I left campus Thursday afternoon with two other girls and we drove to Louisville. This was my first time off campus over night, and, as much as I love Asbury, I was excited to be away for a bit and get a taste of what it would be like. We had a lovely drive there. I spent Thursday evening until Sunday afternoon at the McKinley's house in Louisville (and for those of you who don't know who they are, they are a family I know from Indonesia who have pretty much become my adopted second family). The best part was that I got there, and even though it was a pretty much foreign zone to be in, the family was not foreign to me. I was comfortable, I pretty much knew what was expected of me, I understood the boundaries, and it was a weekend of familiarity (to an extent). It was relaxing to be with people who knew Indonesia, who I could speak in Bahasa with, and talk of my high school with. The weirdest part of seeing them all now was that I was talking of people from Asbury - people they wouldn't even know of unless I mentioned them - and I was speaking of a life that I currently lived in but that they were not specifically familiar with. I have become so accustomed to them knowing who and what I was talking about.

Another aspect that caught me off guard about my weekend away from my Asbury world and into my "Indo world" was that it was weird to process that both exist at the same time. When I returned back to campus on Sunday evening, it felt like nothing had even changed. It felt like Asbury world paused and was just waiting to resume once I came back. Within two hours of being back on campus and doing tons of laundry, I was back into my same routine. Wait a second... routine? Did I just say that I have a routine here? Do I have familiarity here? Do I feel comfortable here? And that is when I began to laugh at myself. I had not realized just how much I had gotten involved in my life at Asbury. I was excited to see my own bed again and I smiled when I looked at the wall next to my desk and saw pictures of my friends and family that I love. When I got out of bed on Monday for my 8am class, I walked into the bathroom to shower and I suddenly found myself thinking, "I feel like I'm home".

I cannot remember the last time I was able to say that and mean it. The thing is, I did not even have to force myself to come to that conclusion - it was just natural. Calling Asbury "home" makes sense, though. I realize that if I were to go back to Indonesia, it would not be as I knew it. I don't have family there anymore, I don't have a house, I don't have pets there, and all my friends (except for a select couple) are no longer there. I certainly want to go back someday, but I also realize it wouldn't feel the same way it did before - it's not home-y. My parents currently live in Peru, a country I have never even seen and with people I don't know. I could visit them - and want to - but it wouldn't be home. My siblings are in Wisconsin and Texas, two states very far away from Kentucky, and I don't feel at home there either. It's not what I know.

 The closest step I have to home is Asbury. Though it is temporary - and may not even be for four years - it is the only thing I can cling to on earth right now that I can call "home". Asbury is my community, and I am happy to call it home for as long as God puts me here. I am thankful that He gave me somewhere to be excited to return to, and the opportunity to love somewhere as wonderful as this place. It is changing me, and I am going through transition on so many different levels, but I know that having this Asbury community is helping me to glide through it with ease and a genuine smile on my face. Trials will come, home is only temporary, but God remains and He knows where I'm going to next. I'm just along for the ride that He is sending me on and trying to take in what He wants to show me. I only know that my last destination will be my permanent home in Heaven, and I am elated to call that my Home.

Leaving "Home"

"I feel blessed, sad, happy, grateful, bittersweet...so much all at once. I leave Indonesia in two days. The house is almost empty of our stuff. It's getting down to the end. Life is about to change big time. I'm not just going to America for the summer... I wonder when transition will hit me." June 9th

When I moved to Indonesia, I was starting fourth grade and I promised all my friends in Wisconsin that I would be back - in two years. We came back for the summers, but then we signed another two year contract, and another one, and...eventually the years added up.

I remember during the winter break of my freshman year my parents decided we were going to take a furlough for my sophomore year. I understood why we would and I understood the timing, but I was devastated. I did not want to leave. And I most certainly did not want to attempt to make friends at a public high school in America... and for only one year. I still remember exactly how I felt the moment I found out we were leaving. I remember the tears coming without restraint, and my face turing puffy red, and my aunt talking to me, and my brother hugging me as his girlfriend (later wife) sat on the red couch behind him. And I remember the sinking feeling in my heart realizing all the goodbyes I would have to say in a little less than six months. To me, that was extremely short notice. I felt I had no process time. To me and all my friends in Indonesia I was staying until we graduated in three more years, and suddenly I had to tell them all I would be leaving for a year. How was I possibly going to manage? Luckily, Mom and Dad changed their minds quickly, but that was quite the emotional roller coaster I went through trying to process leaving a country I once knew nothing about. I had fallen in love with my life in Indonesia.


I almost wonder if that speedy processing of my picture of what it would be like to say goodbye helped the recent real goodbye to be easier. It could have, but I also know that those next three years in Indonesia changed my perspective for leaving. After being the one "left behind" for nine years, I was doing the leaving. Except this time I had three years to prepare and a new adventure of college life to look forward to.

"I am officially en route to the U.S.A. Strange, though, this whole leaving Indonesia feels nothing like I thought it was going to. The goodbyes felt nothing like I thought they were going to. Ask me a year ago how I imaged I would feel today and I would say something along the lines of "I want to stay. I can't hold back the tears. I feel unprepared". That's pretty much the opposite of how I feel today. I feel like I am just READY. It's time for me to go. Nine years in Indonesia have been amazing and I am moving forward to the next big step in life excited and ready to take on the new-ness and independence that is before me." 


I wrote that on June 11th in my personal journal (and the journal doesn't lie). I was just simply ready. It wasn't a "I can't wait to get out of here" or "Whatever, I'm leaving", it was just complete acceptance of the life I lived in Indonesia and realizing how it shaped me as a person. It felt good. That doesn't mean it didn't ache or that it wasn't tough, because I promise you there were tears shed, but not in the ways I had imagined it would have been. The toughest part for me was saying goodbye to the people in my life.

"I have come to realize that Indonesia, to me, is really the people. Most of those people that make Indonesia for me have left, though. So, in a way, I have been saying my farewells to Indonesia through my farewells to people."


But the thing about saying goodbye to people, is that even though there is never a promise of seeing them again on earth (though sometimes we are blessed and God allows us to cross paths again), I will always know that there is a guarantee of seeing those in the body of Christ again, and I can only pray for those who are not, that I may see them again some day.

People are HOME to me. I may have a house in Wisconsin, lived the last half of my life in Indonesia, and have family and friends all over the globe, but I can't say I would call any stationary place HOME. HOME to me is where I feel loved, invested in, and where there is always space to grow. I will only ever be truly HOME when the Lord takes me to be with Him.