It’s not as if I didn’t know to expect it.
People had even asked how I was doing.
One day my incredibly patient husband suggests that I do a
quick search on culture shock.
Irritability?
Check.
Extreme fatigue?
Check.
Anger and hostility?
Check.
Feelings of lonliness?
Check.
Smallest problems seem overwhelming? Check.
I felt so ridiculous.
Like I could have willed it not to happen. But we knew this would happen, we talked about
it, expected it, and told each other to watch out for it. We’ve both lived here before, right?
Everyone gets her turn, it seems. There is no way around it, only through it. Frankly, I can deal with that. So here we go.
There’s much to be written about culture shock, it
seems. Yes, I’m finding things
that irritate me about this culture, which I hope to cover in my next
post. I’m trying to focus on the
fact, though, that we chose this path for a reason. We value the experience of living in another culture, and
that’s very messy sometimes. I
know in my heart that we will thrive here, that our children will grow, that
Drew and I will grow, and that I myself with grow, even if we can’t yet see
how.
It hit me at church this morning. We didn’t have our ususal worship band playing, but a solo
man singing with a guitar. He has
a handlebar mustache and a simple, plain style of playing. So very comforting to me. I didn’t recognize the song, but part
of the lyric wrote about God testing our thoughts and actions.
I scrambled for a pen and paper to write it down, but of
course I couldn’t find it since I had switched bags on Friday night. Ugh.
What if God’s plan for my time here now is breaking me down
to a pile of jumbling emotions so I will get my focus back where it should be?
I have a tendency to do things the hard way. I’m stubborn and pride gets in my
way. But if I will listen, and be
still, I think things are going to start looking up. I know I will.
