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Torn

I am torn.

We spent a few days at the beach attending a debrief conference for people from our company who have returned from overseas stints. It was all a bit theoretical for us because we haven’t landed in our “planting” spot yet where we’ll have to try to figure out where to buy food and make friends and tame our wild yard.

But not wanting to miss out on the opportunity to hear from God, I tried to pay attention to my heart. As I did I realized I was feeling a new feeling about the whole transition: guilt.

That surprised me, until we had a session on grief and loss and they reminded me that it is one of the stages of grief. But still, guilt? I didn’t see that coming. I’m more of a denial or anger stage kind of girl myself.

Why do I feel guilty? Well, I’ll tell you. I feel guilty because I think the US is awesome. I can plug my computer in to ANY outlet in the house. That’s big, people. No hunting down an adapter these days. The shower has consistent water pressure and temperature. Have you ever thought about what a gift that is? I do, every day.

And where we’re going to live is practically tropical! I’ve done tropical before and it’s not shabby. Sure, it gets hot and humid but who cares when you have a pool? And . . . and . . . and . . . I could go on and on.

Why feel guilty about that? I feel guilty because I know that my friends who I left don’t have a lot of these things. Why do I get to have them? More than that, several of them are going through difficult things and I am not there to walk through those things with them, and I hate that. I’m here enjoying sunshine and raspberry m&m;’s. There’s a strange feeling as though I have abandoned them, betrayed them even, by leaving. I remind myself that this is where God has led us, and that He has kept them there, but I feel guilty all the same.

Hey – no one ever said feelings were rational. But there they are.

So I am torn. Torn between wanting to enjoy these beautiful gifts God is giving us, hopes of good things in this new life, and the separation I feel from my friends who do not have what I have, who in fact have difficult things. Torn between loving the family and friends we have here and those we have left behind. It’s one of the by-products of moving people don’t always mention – the fact that you don’t get to keep all your heart with you as you go. Parts will be left in each place, and it’s possible for one part to feel something while another part experiences something completely different.

Will it ever be put back together? Probably not. But I choose to see it not as fragmented but as stretched to a greater capacity. Yeah, I’m going to call it that – not torn, but stretched.

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Our Future in Signs

Signs can tell us where we are. They tell us something of the culture we’re inhabiting. They provide boundaries, assurance, that we are in familiar territory.

So I’ve been paying attention to the signs around me as we have a week here in Orlando. I want to set up my mental map. I want to understand this future home of ours.

I had planned to post a series of pictures of the signs we’ve acquired ourselves – our license plate, the name of our part of town, our street name, our address. And then I realized that armed with all that, someone could potentially stalk us all the way from Minnesota to our new home. I’m not typically paranoid, but that seemed too much like a trail of cyberspace breadcrumbs.

So picture, if you will, these signs that we see. The highway signs – most often 417 and 408 – all have the outline of Florida. Despite that, it took me 3 days of driving to stop thinking, “Hey look – that person has Florida license plates. He’s from Florida!” We too have exchanged loons for oranges. (Not that I am a loon, though that thought was kind of loony. Minnesota plates have loons on them).

The sign I don’t like seeing is the EZPass toll overhang, strung over the highway periodically, there to suck money from you every few miles on the freeway.

Today we drove past an actual “Welcome to Orlando” sign. Why thank you.

It’s encouraging to see signs we know well – Target, Panera Bread, Walgreens. And signs for things we have heard exist – Chick-fil-a, Del Taco. None of these signs were in China. I like seeing them.

Then there are the signs that show we are heading away from the crowded parts to our little neck of the swamp – signs with words like “oak” and “pine” in them that tell us we are heading into the woods. Our woods.

And there’s the one small sign, just 5 numbers hung above our garage door, that will signify home.

Those are the signs in view.

Continue ReadingOur Future in Signs

Becoming More Real

Did you know that in Orlando there are toll gates every 50 feet? OK, that might be an exaggeration, but there are a lot of them and they aren’t cheap. Most I’ve seen range from 50c-$1. Yesterday on the way to check out a school for the kids that required a 15 minute drive on the highway I had to spend $3.25. That’s a pile o’ change folks because they don’t take dollars. If you’re wondering where all the coins in America are, look to Florida.

Well all this coin tossing (literally, you throw the coins in a funnel. Freaks me out every time) is impractical in the long run so we needed to get a Sun Pass, which allows you to drive automatically through the tolls without paying, or so it feels. And this is one of many little ways that life in America is becoming more real.

Why would I need a Sun Pass if I were just passing through? When the woman at Walgreens asked if I wanted a store card, I realized I probably did. The Minute Clinic at CVS now has all my local information (and I discovered that my insurance card is actually useful in America. Apparently Asia was outside my PPO). Erik is going to get our license tags this morning for our Honda Fit, which my Asia friends will be happy to know is orange like our previous Hover. At dinner the other night a new acquaintance told me about a weekend market for home furnishings and said, “I’ll take you there.”

Oh and did I mention there’s an empty house to which we have keys? I fully expected there to be a homeless man squatting there, at least some snakes and cockroaches to have taken up residence, but it’s just waiting for us to fill it with our stuff.

A house. Two cars. Getting connected to local businesses. Making plans with new people. Yep, it kind of sounds like we’re going to live here.

Continue ReadingBecoming More Real

The Familiar

People might guess that our 13 years overseas in various locations means I’m a girl who loves adventure, but this would be an erroneous thought. I like familiarity. I like routine. I like consistency. I eat the same thing every day for breakfast, almost without fail. That’s how I roll.

One of our last weeks in Asia, I was driving a new friend around town, and she said, “I can’t wait until I know this city like you do. You just seem to know how to get anywhere.” Indeed, it was very familiar to me.

So here we are in Orlando this week, our future home, and I find myself longing for that kind of knowledge. I want to sense, as I’m driving down the 417, how much further it is to our exit. I want to have a need for a certain store and know instinctively how far it is from where I am. I want to be able to drive on mental auto-pilot to other parts of town. I want to know this place.

As I was pondering this yesterday, God reminded me that I do already have something constant, something familiar, and it is Him. In every new place, He is there. He is the same here as He was in Asia. His character and His ways toward me are steady and unchanging.

This is where I need to put my focus, my faith. My city view may change, but He remains the same.

Someday I will know my way around this place.

Continue ReadingThe Familiar

Project 365 September

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rainy days
A fitting last shot of China
Up early with jet lag
And NOT having to fight jet lag anymore
Freedom!
The backyard, instagram style
Evening practice
Most mornings one of them is here
reflection of the house
fog rising off the lake
ripe for harvest
driving the boat
pondering
boating at night
I’m in love with Minnesota countryside
Seriously, I am
bonfire
My first time at IKEA in the States!
hard at work
contemplative
Loki loves laps
Sibling wrestle time, with a side of dog
He had fun but boy was he cold afterward!
art class
bridge in the woods
I did not enhance the color of sky in this picture
Ethan’s creative shot of Megan
She OWNS that ball
Look familiar? I thought I’d get each season
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I Miss My Friends

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  • Post category:grief

For the first week that I was in the States, I literally did not want to talk to anyone. I had used up all my words, all my social capacity, in the weeks prior to leaving. The introvert in me was crying, “Uncle!” and I couldn’t imagine a day when I would actually want, let alone need, to interact with people again.

Ok, so now I can.

I am immensely grateful that we are here staying with family. Right now that also includes my brother and sister-in-law who make life fun and meaningful. I’ve missed them terribly. My oldest, dearest friend Laura lives just minutes away and that too is very good. I love that I can text and call my stateside friends now (although I keep thinking about the time difference before I call, which is unnecessary).

But I still miss my friends. I am reading Addiction and Grace, and I wish I could talk to Karen about it because she read it too. I know that my friend Sung is moving and I wish I could be there to help her pack and watch her kids and consult with her on how to cover the landlord’s left behind furniture. My friend Tammy’s family had yet another trip to the hospital (they should really open a new wing in their name) and I wish I could be there to process it with her. I want to hear about Martha’s trip to Thailand in person. And on and on it goes.

I am thankful that God is surrounding us here with people we love. I am confident that in Orlando we will find new friends. But I can’t help feeling that I don’t just want new friends – I want my old ones here! This is when I start praying that they will all feel strongly led to move to Orlando. 🙂

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Reverse Culture Shock

Every good expat has heard of the dreaded Reverse Culture Shock. That’s where you go back to your home country and think, “This is weird! I don’t get it! I feel like an idiot!” and other unpleasant things like that.

I came back to the States fully expecting that at some point we would have this. I’ve had it before – those moments where I was paralyzed in the bread/toothpaste/deodorant aisle incapable of making a decision because there were so many choices. The awkward times when I hand the clerk my credit card and then am informed that I can (and should) do it myself. I still forget that, and for the record, I don’t like it.

This time I feel like all those potentially odd things that are different from Asia, to this point, don’t strike me as anything but quite pleasant. I like that there are lots of choices. I like that driving doesn’t feel like a test of my survival skills. I like that there is no one else on the streets in the morning when I exercise. I could get used to all these things.

But yesterday I hit my biggest moment of reverse culture shock. I went to IKEA.

I have never been to IKEA in America, only in Asia. So I was quite frankly weirded out by seeing prices in US dollars. It felt eerily empty. At no point did I feel like I was swimming against traffic. There wasn’t a single Asian person anywhere. I kept thinking, “Look at this – it’s all the same stuff. They brought it all from China.” (Yes, I realize this is not true). Actually, it felt like I was still in China and just happened to go to IKEA on Foreigner Day.

Megan’s cluing in to the reverse culture shock as well. In the bathroom the other day she said, “Mom, this toilet is really small. The toilets at Nonna and Babba’s are really small too. Wait – maybe ALL the toilets in America are small compared to China!” and continued on in this vein for awhile, supposing that people would think she was weird because she’s been using big toilets.

So we realize things are different, but so far we’re generally of the opinion that they’re good. I just don’t think I’ll go back to IKEA yet. That was weird.

Continue ReadingReverse Culture Shock

Land of Sky Blue Waters

Did you know that Minnesota means “Land of Sky Blue Waters?” Actually, I think the original Native Americans meant it more like “cloudy waters” but we like to ignore the cloud part and just focus on the awesome blue skies. Minnesotans are positive that way.

When most people think of Minnesota, they think things like, “Where is Minnesota? Why would anyone want to live there? Doesn’t it snow most of the year? Isn’t that in Canada? Is that even a state?”

All valid questions. Sure, the winters here last about 5 months and they can get so cold your nose hairs freeze together, but the rest of the year makes up for it, and that’s what we get to enjoy right now.

And enjoy it we are! I’m not an outdoor girl. Honestly, I could live in a bunker and it wouldn’t affect me much as long as I had enough room to run around. But there’s something about Minnesota in the fall that does a soul good.

The mornings here are cool – this morning I could see my breath at 7 am. The days are temperate and sunny, you can smell fall in the air, the leaves are changing. The pace of life here is slower, people you don’t know wave at you from the other side of the road or greet you as you pass by. When shopkeepers tell you to have a nice day, they actually sound like they mean it.

And look at this picture, taken while visiting some friends who have a cabin near our cabin. This is a picture of the pond in front of the lake where their cabin is. This is their view, and what a lovely view it is.

All of this restores my soul, as it says in Psalm 23. God is using Minnesota to re-stock my soul with life-giving things.

God knew He was making a good thing when He made the land of sky blue waters.

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The Homeschool View

One of the most frequent questions I have heard throughout our transition is, “Are you going to homeschool in America?” On the one hand, the thought of homeschooling in America sounds SO much easier than doing it in China, so why not? Hello libraries! Hello fast internet! Hello Amazon Prime that comes to my door in two days! Hello even more people who homeschool! Wow – that looks like I’m really excited, and also, quite friendly.

On the other hand, there are schools here. Schools that don’t ask me to decide between sending my child to 5th grade or her freshman year of college for tuition. Schools where our kids could learn things I don’t teach them, where they could have experiences they don’t get at home.

I’ve never been a hard core homeschool mom. Our decision to homeschool was more out of necessity than choice. That said, I don’t regret doing it; I see only good things that have come from it.

But as we look to Orlando, we’re considering the options. Florida itself is not known for its stellar education system (#48 out of 50?!?) but there are other choices besides public schools (and even those we haven’t ruled out). When we head down there in a few weeks, I hope to look at one of them in particular. I had previously written it off, but it’s run by someone we know and our dear friends’ kids go there, so our kids are all for it.

For now, we have three baskets full of books, binders and curriculum in the kids’ bedrooms. They mostly work at the desks in their rooms or on their beds. So far so good, but who knows how much longer we’ll have this view? 

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Lest you forget

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“And when the Lord your God brings you into the land that he swore to your fathers . . . with great and good cities that you did not build, and houses full of all good things that you did not fill, and cisterns that you did not dig, and vineyards and olive trees that you did not plant – and when you eat and are full, then take care lest you forget the Lord.” Deuteronomy 6:10-12

The first time these verses struck me (as Christians why are we always being “struck” by scripture? It seems so violent) was our 5th year overseas. I was in a great place. My mojo was strong – the kids were getting out of the tough toddler stage, my language skills were decent, I was able to use my gifts in fulfilling ways; in short, I loved my life. So I knew it was going to change.

I knew it, not because I think God is out to spoil my fun, but because of these verses which I had been studying at the time. I knew I was in a place where I was really comfortable. I didn’t feel like I needed God. I was in danger of forgetting Him. So God saw fit to move us, four months later, to Singapore, where . . . well, let’s say I felt my need.

But that was then. In reading this again now, I think of our current situation. This is the land o’ plenty, and I feel like I could get pretty used to it. I like showers with consistent water temperature and washing machines large enough to hold a person. I like blue skies and non-threatening traffic. I like speaking English. I like friendly Minnesotans.

So how do I not forget God here? How do I stay aware that even in the seemingly best, most comfortable, most easy places I am in desperate need for Him? I don’t have the answer to that yet; it’s what I’m pondering this morning. I just know that He is God here as much as He was there, and I need Him.

Continue ReadingLest you forget

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