Reverse Culture Shock

If you haven't figured it out yet, we are back in America.  Our stateside assignment started the end of December which means we made it back to the states just in time to enjoy Christmas with our families, which was wonderful!!!  We have been back a little over a month and within that month we have been able to check out almost every one of our favorite American restaurants, hit up the clearance racks (how I have missed thee), see a couple of movies, worship with our body of believers several times (So incredibly wonderful!!!), enjoy the bounty of the superstore, and go through reverse culture shock.

Every time I think about it, I laugh at myself. I made it about 6 days before culture shock smacked me in the face and had me in tears.  Brian was sick, and I had gone out to navigate these wide, well-marked roads in search of the key to the apartment where we would be staying and food-- an easy enough task, right?! But that day, I might as well have been foraging through the New World with an axe in hand on the back of a donkey trying to find my way through the desert in search of food, water and shelter. I was a mess. At one point I had to call my dad to figure out how to start the van we are driving.  I couldn't get the key out of the ignition. I couldn't turn the ignition. I couldn't do anything.  My daddy asked me what seemed like an overwhelming amount of questions about the steering wheel and tried to comfort me with a story about this same thing happening to my 80 year old grandmother once. I'm not senile... Turns out, all I had to do was put the car in park and then everything worked just fine.  Good grief.  I laughed it off as a "blonde" moment, got off the phone and fussed about this country being so doggone complicated.  The van doors open with buttons, and they didn't seem to want to work for me that day.  Had I forgotten how to push a simple button in order get the results I wanted?!  I pushed the buttons. I tried brute strength, aka pull the door as hard as you can. It wouldn't move.... About the time I started to call my dad to ask him what I knew would turn out to be an obvious answer, the thing worked, and I was able to close the door and head on my way.  I was beginning to hate this land of the free. I didn't feel free. I was enslaved to a mini-van door.  I just wanted to go back to the land of "I (basically) know how everything works..."

And then came the journey for food.  The grocery store kind of made me want to throw up.  While I was excited about loading cheddar cheese, peanut butter and soft sliced bread into my cart, I couldn't seem to come up with an answer as to why there are 492 different boxes of cereal and 847 different variations of food... for dogs???  Once I got my groceries loaded in the car, and managed to get the car door shut, I thought I was deserving of some Chick-fil-A.  So, in hopes of returning to a bit of sanity and reminding myself why I do love this country, I headed for some yummy Christian chicken.  It didn't work.  I missed my Macedonia and no amount of chicken, waffle fries, or free refills was going to make it better.  It was time to get on a plane and head back home.  I called Brian in tears. Bless his sick little heart. He talked me down and managed to make part of his sick day a counseling session for his crazy wife. I made it through that day and the next. And I am happy to say that while I still have no idea why there are 847 variations of dog food and while I still have hard time in the cereal aisle, I can get the doors open on the mini-van on the first try almost every time and most days, I remember to put the car in park before I turn off the car.  I do love my America, but my heart still longs for Macedonia, the simple!

Reverse culture shock is no joke, people. It is painful and lonely much like the culture shock you go through on the other side of the pond, but in my estimation, it can be worse.  Reverse culture shock has you going in, well, reverse. The language, cultural taboos, greetings, slang, pop culture, etc., are all new or in some cases old, and you have to rewind and learn or relearn them or risk looking like a fool in front of your own people.  Overseas, you can chalk up your silly cultural blunders to the fact that you are a foreigner.  In America, not so much. You don't look like a foreigner, you don't talk like a foreigner.  So why on earth would you take your shoes off at someone's door and kiss them three times on both cheeks when you meet them???  Cause it cultural... somewhere.
It was the sheer grace of God that got me through culture shock overseas and sustained me there every day, and it is the grace of God that gets me through reverse culture shock and sustains me here as well.   I need thee every hour, O precious Lord...

For my colleagues and fellow expatriates out there here's a little navigational guide for reentry into what we once called home:
1. Check your expectations at customs. That basically sums it up, but if you want specifics, read on...
2. America is busy, therefore Americans are busy. They will have to work you into their schedule, and after about a week, you will have to do the same. Don't be offended or hurt. It's just how things operate around here.
3. You will need a calendar and you will need to actually use it. Deep breaths everyone.
4. If texting isn't your main form of communication, you will need to figure it out and quick.
5. You will get laughed at.  That sense of humor that got you through language school and cultural learning overseas will need to be back in full swing over here.  You must laugh at yourself.
6.  Church will overwhelm you. It may overwhelm you in a different way than it did me.  Our church is large and wonderful, tons of people, and yet little interaction with anyone on Sunday mornings.  Coming from house church where everyone just sits around and loves on one another for hours after worship, this was hard for me, which leads me to my next point...
7. Plug into a small group or SS class.  Our small group is wonderful and that is where we have found community and fellowship. It is a must!
8. The temptation to judge and be critical is huge. Don't give in.  Give grace.  Share truth, humbly and in love.
9. Do something fun.  Show your kids and remind yourself the great fun that can be had in America. Go see a movie, enjoy some over-priced coffee and doughnuts, go play with all the new toys at Best Buy and in the toy aisle at Walmart, sing the national anthem at the top of your lungs, go to a ball game, walk around a park, spend some precious time with extended family and take lots of pictures of the festivities. Just enjoy yourself.
10. Remember home is heaven.  Home isn't here or there.  Home is upward.  The longing that can't be satisfied overseas or upon return isn't meant to be. It will only be satisfied when we are with our Jesus, face to face in heaven.  We know this. We preach it, and yet, we can so quickly forget it.

Stay-tuned for the kids' perspective on America, and let us know if you want to get together. We are here till the summer and we would LOVE to meet up for a coffee!

My Tiny Little Baby... A Precious Life

It was 13 years ago. One of my best friends in high school had gone through with it.  I called that morning to check on her, and I literally fell to my knees as her mother said, 'She can't come to the phone. She is resting from the procedure." I got off the phone and cried for most of the day.  I had begged her to give me her unborn baby.  I had promised her I would be by her side the whole time.  My heart was broken.  The tragedy of abortion hit me square in the face.  It was no longer a far off tragedy. It was personal.  It had effected my dear friend and her future generations.

This past Sunday was sanctity of life Sunday here in America, and while I sat in church on Sunday morning and listened to the facts about this destroyer of life that is legal in our country, I felt my precious little one moving around inside of me.  I fought back tears, and I literally felt sick to my stomach. I couldn't imagine not giving this precious baby boy the chance at life.  Last week, I went in for an ultrasound of my little man.  I saw his eyes, his nose, his fingers and little toes. Along with my ultrasound technician, I praised the Father over the miracle that is this little one.  His little heart beat strongly as I strained to see into his world, his safe haven.  He is alive, moving, active, growing, and I will do everything to care for him and protect him for as long as his heart beats.  He is being intricately woven together, created in the image of God.  He is precious and loved by his creator. 

My five and three year old understand that there is a living baby inside mommy and that they have to be careful not to hurt him. They understand that mommy has to be careful with what she does because she wants to take care of this little one God has given us, and yet some of the most educated people in the world would have us believe that if I wanted to harm him, to stop his heart, it would be ok because he is living in my body. Over 50 million little lives have been killed in the U.S. alone because many women have given into the lie that they are more important than the baby inside their womb.  

To those women, including my friend from high school, you are precious and loved in the eyes of your Creator. There is grace and forgiveness through the blood of Jesus. He longs to be your comforter as you face the pains of your decision.  He is holding your little one safely in His arms. Put your trust in Him. Give Him your life and He will give you beauty for your ashes of mourning.

America, you are my beloved country, but we have walked down a path for 40 years that is wrong and against the One who endows us with those very inalienable rights that we cling to so fiercely and that we use to excuse this tragedy.  We must turn our face back toward Him in humble submission. We must stop killing His little creations who have never gotten the chance to take their first breath.  

Look at that face and tell me you aren't willing to do whatever it takes to keep it safe.

For more on this topic, here are some fantastic links: 

I rest my own motherly grief in the grace of Christ who holds my worshiping little Victoria Elise who would be 22 years old now.  How great a grace of a savior that lets a woman who added to the number of the 55 million be a part of saving hundreds!  
http://firstchoicepregnancysolutions.blogspot.com/2013/01/what-can-you-do-on-day-marking-40-years.html 

"Many simply say it is the lesser of two evils. I took an abortionist out to lunch once, prepared to give him ten reasons why the unborn are human beings. He stopped me, and said, “I know that. We are killing children.” I was stunned. He said, “It’s simply a matter of justice for women. It would be a greater evil to deny women the equal right of reproductive freedom.” Which means women should be no more encumbered by the consequences of an unplanned pregnancy than men. That equal freedom from the burden of bearing unwanted children is the basis for abortion that President Obama refers to again and again when he talks about equal rights for women. We know we are killing children."
http://www.desiringgod.org/blog/posts/we-know-they-are-killing-children-all-of-us-know 

"But the “personhood” debate is looking more and more like an irrelevant discussion. As an example, take Merle Hoffman, a key figure for the pro-choice movement, who founded one of the first abortions clinics even prior to 1973. She notes that most people who get abortions acknowledge that the fetus is a tiny human life, with fingers and toes and a heartbeat. But that fact was outweighed by their decision: “They knew [the fetus was a human life], but my patients who made the choice to have an abortion also knew they were making the right one, a decision so vital it was worth stopping that heart.”

   -----Spence Shelton at http://www.jdgreear.com

And even a free book by John Piper on the topic: Exposing the Dark Work of Abortion