Home Is Where The _____ Is (Part Three)

When you think of home, what immediately comes to your mind?

A house. Cozy bed. Favorite nook. Mother's cooking. Playing outside. Family. Friends. Small town. Constantly moving city. Memories. Things. People. Safety. Security. Love. Acceptance. Roots.

When I think of home, I immediately visualize my parents, spouse and closest friends. Then I think about the millions of sisters and brothers across the world who love the Creator. No matter how hard I try not to attach home to a place, I do think about the town my parents live in at the moment where I spent my teen years. Then I think about my brothers and family who live 13 hours away where I spent my childhood. Then each place I've been, be it for 2 weeks or 2 years, has had a certain element of home that has left an imprint on me.

It's okay to experience homesickness. Like I said in Part Two, homesickness is grieving, and that's okay. But what's not okay is when homesickness turns into an identity crisis.

What happens when I put my identity into where I am from, how I was raised or what I look like?
I am American. "Uh-marr-eh-kuh!"  So to the third-world, they assume all Americans are Christians who smoke, drink alcohol, and are promiscuous. Well, that's what TV says so it must be true.
I'm a redhead, so I must be feisty, have a fiery temper and hail from Ireland.

I've started to stereotype myself because I've accidentally wrapped my identity with my past. And though roots are part of what make us.. us, it's no longer a strong root when you move into a different pasture. So what keeps us grounded?

If I say I am this, then I exclude that. "I am a redhead, so I can't be South Asian." This makes it even more difficult when I'm needing to learn and accept parts of the new culture. It's pitting me against them. I'm not accepting change, my perspective gets more narrow and my heart deceivingly becomes prideful. I get infuriated by the many differences. I lose sight of the similarities and the positive things I should appreciate in the new culture.

I've already determined my reaction according to my unmet expectations. "I want to live in South Asia and not be seen as an American!" But, little miss redhead, you can't be fully South Asian because you're not. And you'll never be the same as when you left America.

You learn to compromise with yourself, balancing the lifestyle you knew and the one you should adapt to instill sanity and a new kind of normalcy. There is a way to be a little bit of everything. You can wake up on a mattress in a bed frame but then take a 5 minute shower before the water heater runs out. You can go to the market and do your best to speak the little language you know to buy fresh produce but then go back to your house, make dinner and watch a movie as if you were in your home country. You learn to have grace for yourself and remind yourself to show grace towards your new country.

So, I am human, 
I am loved by God (Romans 5:8)
I have been rescued from Satan's rule (Col 1:13),
I am adopted as God's child (Eph 1:5), 
I have been bought with a price - I am not my own - I belong to God (1 Cor 6:19-20),
I have been made complete in Christ (Col 2:10),
I have the right to come boldly before the throne of God to find mercy and grace in time of need (Heb 4:16),
I am an alien and stranger to this world in which I temporarily live (1 Peter 2:11),
and I am a citizen of heaven (Phil 3:20).

My home is in heaven. My heart is shared among many loved ones. My identity is in Christ. Home is where He is working and it's when I'm walking with Him. It's knowing that I have an eternal home in Heaven. For me, home is where the Father is.

If home is where the heart is, where is your heart residing?

Be rooted and grounded in love (Eph 3:14-19).

For more on the woman's heart and identity, refer to Developing A Discerning Heart.

Home Is Where The _____ Is (Part Two)

Georgia. Oklahoma. Guatemala. Europe. Haiti. New Orleans. Morocco. Virginia. India. Sri Lanka. Texas.

Places that have changed some part of me. Places where God has shown me what true poverty, wealth, corruption, effective education, devastation, hospitality, community, cultural differences and human similarities all look like. And He's confirmed over and again His desire for his children to know Him and what His Son has done for them.

When I'm laying in bed fully awake because the street dogs barked through the night, the neighbors next door started banging pots in the kitchen for breakfast and the construction workers outside have started drilling through concrete, I have three choices:

1. I can accept the noises and disturbance of a schedule that makes me uncomfortable and find things that I am thankful for.
2. I can begrudgingly tolerate it and over time just get plumb annoyed.
3. I can become annoyed instantly and refuse it as a wave of homesickness knocks me out for the rest of the day.

Of course I'd like to say that when this happened in India, I always chose the first option. But come on. I'm human. I struggle. And although letting things annoy you is not a healthy habit to establish, feeling homesick is not an unwarranted expression.

Homesickness is grieving, and that's okay.

It's missing people, places, things and ways. It's showing yourself that you do love someone or something enough that it hurts. It shows who you are missing that you care about them. It shows that you are human.

Jesus was homeless. Yeah, he struggled. He was known for healing and teaching so much that people would always flock to him like a celebrity and he would struggle to find time alone. He was homesick as well as oppressed. I bet the disciples annoyed him at times. I'm thinking when he cursed the fig tree he was "hangry" (hungry + angry). And as the man of sorrows he certainly grieved!

So you and I are not alone in these feelings. It's not like we're talking to a god that's manmade. We're talking with the God who created us in His image and who really knows and feels what we're going through.

I can already tell you that I will miss my parents more than anyone else on the face of the earth. I'll also miss the little things -- chatting with girl friends in the local coffee shop, wearing boots in the fall, free water at restaurants, cheese, makeup for pale people -- that truly become big things when you don't have access to them.

I feel uncomfortable when I don't know how to communicate because I don't know the language yet, where toilet paper is not a thing, people are always staring, and when some try to take advantage of us monetarily and make fun of how we look.

But I will make every effort to choose to be thankful. Thankful that I'll be living in beautiful green tea plantations, that some signs are in English, they have clothes for cheap, they sell fresh food in the marketplace, and that I can use my skills for Him in this place.

Here's an article I found that was very helpful for anyone who is in the process of grieving (whether you've accepted it or not): Outlawed Grief, A Curse In Disguise.

From living overseas and now moving once again in two weeks, I'd like to think that "Home is where the people I love are," or "Home is where family, friends and community reside". I'm okay with that. But is that really what we think it means? Have we made the mistake in putting our identity into where we are from: "Where the home is, there our identity is also"?

Sleep deprived in India - I'd say I was feeling #2 in this photo.