Refining Through Culture Shock

There is a little thing that we expats all know about. If you have lived in a foreign country for any amount of time, you know all about it.  It's our thing. We own it. We claim it. We yell it out when we are having a awful day. We use it as a crutch when we have been really mean to someone who lives in our home or helps clean our toilets. It's culture shock! And somehow we can't seem to explain it to volunteer teams, people visiting for two weeks or the people we reunite with in the states.  They couldn't understand if they tried. There is a possibility that that time they went on a trip to Mexico for two weeks, they had a slight bit of culture shock. Sure, confronted with the fact that we as an American people are grossly independent and wildly materialistic will smack anyone in the face during their two weeks in the slums of a foreign country, but I'm not talking about that. I'm talking about how the days drag on, language class is producing in you nothing but a babbling two year old, you can't figure out why the people on the mopeds seem to have a death threat and why on earth they don't just drive on the sidewalk, and for the life of you, you can't figure out what that awful smell is that meets you every single time you walk into the grocery store. You don't like picking up hand-fulls of meat and shoving it into a bag. And for the love, why is it so doggone hot?! And the people that you should understand and relate to the most, your fellow expats, well, some days you just think they are weird, and while you truly want to understand them and live in fellowship with them, it is a battle. Yes, I am probably being too candid here, but I guarantee if you put a group of us all on a panel and made us drink truth juice, we would all say the same thing about what is going on during culture shock.

Culture shock. We use it to justify all of our junk those first few months and even year of overseas living! We don't feel worthy of what we are being asked to do. We feel completely, overwhelmingly inadequate. We can't share Jesus. We can barely say 'How are you?' without accidentally offending someone. We are being radically stripped of everything we held on to. We thought that the 'emptying of self' was over when we gave away most of our belongings and said heart-wrenching goodbyes to people that we love dearly. Turns out, that was only the beginning. We got gut-punched, again, about two weeks after we got off the plane and realized this is our new reality and we are just not built for this life.

So then we try and fix it. We throw ourselves into activities that we think we can control, and then reality hits again, and we are faced with the fact that we can't control anything. Nothing! Every single thing that we held onto is pried from our dying hands.

Yep, I said dying. Dramatic? Perhaps. Reality? Maybe. Because if we have not completely and totally died to self and surrendered every solitary thing, it will be stripped away for us. We call this culture shock. It's lovely really. I can't hold on to or boast in anything. This out-of-control-ness produces different things in different people depending on the day. Somedays it makes me want to cry all day (which then produces a wretched migraine). Somedays it produces anger. I'm talking rage, and I really just need to punch something. It produces loneliness and self-insecurities that you didn't know were there. And you realize how very much you suck (sorry dad, but that's really the only appropriate word). You are the noble person who committed her life to proclaiming good news and love and hope to a lost world, and you can barely manage to get dinner on the table without crying because you can't figure out your tiny oven or you had a moment of thinking about how amazing your mom's chicken pot pie is and you don't know when you will get to eat it again.

You experience loss and pain over and over again. It's full on war against your heart and mind.  It's war on your family and every other relationship in your life. And we call it culture shock.

But God. I think what we call culture shock, He calls refining. He uses these first months in a new country and in a new place for His glory, because He makes all things good, even beautiful. He keeps showing me over and over, so kindly and patiently, that all these horrible things that are bursting out of me lately are really just the sin that I had in me all along. Sin that I was able to cover up a little easier when I could hold things in my hands. Sin that I so easily covered up when I was living in a place that had become comfortable and easy.  He has been bringing me to repentance, showing me the ugly so that I can confess it and He can cleanse it. He's been reminding me daily that the same gospel that saved me, sustains me every day. And I find that if I don't constantly preach the gospel to myself, I am a wreck, and I will wreck others with the excuse of "culture shock."

So that's me right now, totally completely uncomfortably honest with whoever is reading this. I'm a mess. I was a mess before, but I have no strength or capacity to cover it up now. It's out there for the world (and my poor children) to see.  I am that wretch. I need Jesus. Oh! I need Jesus!!!  Because without Him I just can't do this life! I just can't. Good news, He has overcome the world, even this really hot and humid one. He is for me. In me. Working in ways I can't see and moving mountains in me to make me look more like Himself. He is refining me in the fire. And it took moving me to SE Asia to do it. He goes to wild and crazy lengths to get our attention and to show us how deeply He loves us.  He is faithful and kind. And I need all of that, all of Him, even more than I ever knew.


There are things we can do to get through our little bouts of culture shock. A few things that I used to recommend those who joined our team to do and things I am trying to do now:

1. Embrace the Constant. With all the change, embrace the One who hasn't changed, ever! Our Lord is constant, steady, sure. We can run into him. Stay in His Word. You can't get by with out it! Dig into Jesus. Listen to sermons when you don't have the focus to read on your own. Turn on worship music. Put scripture verses all over your new home.  Remember that our Lord knows our pain. He has walked a mile in our shoes and can sympathize with us in every pain. Because of His great love for us, He left his home to pursue us, to die for us, to save us. He was misunderstood, mocked, hated and even murdered. But because he overcame when he conquered the grave, we can and will too.

2. Be thankful.  Make a list of at least 10 things you can be thankful for in your new homeland. Write it down and on the really hard days, look back at it and even add to it.

3. If there are expats in your town or your country, try and get together with them every once and awhile. You may find they have gone through, or are going through, the same struggle you are and can help you walk through it. If nothing else, maybe they can be a sounding board. Someone who finally understands you.

4. Get some perspective. On the days when it seems like there is no light at the end of the tunnel, and you just can't remember why you moved your family to this new place, get out! Go walk around your neighborhood and just take in the faces of those you now live among. Go visit one of their spiritual buildings and just let your heart be open and softened. Pray that the Lord will give you more compassion for those around you than concern for your own comforts.

5. Exercise. Sweat it out.

6. Make sure you are getting enough sleep. You will be more exhausted than you were in your homeland. By 3 PM, you will feel completely and totally drained. With the language learning and all. the. new. your brain is on overload. You need to rest. It's ok.

This is not a comprehensive list, but it's a start. Most of all, see number one.

All of this is just a reminder for me. "Culture shock" is normal, completely common, but it doesn't have to break me. The Lord is faithful. He will sustain me and my family through this time. His strength is made perfect in our weakness. He is sharpening me, growing me, refining me. He is making me look more like Himself, and He is lovely. The process is painful, but the product is pure and beautiful.