I’ve realized that what is difficult about
being in a foreign place, with unknown people, new foods, and totally different attire
is simply the feeling of it being foreign. That is all. Often what is scary and undesirable
about a person, place or thing (perhaps the word noun came to mind) is that it
is unfamiliar.
Familiarity is one of the sweetest feelings
ever. We love to grow closer to people and feel comfortable enough to open a
friend’s fridge, sit on a friend’s bed or speak to him or her in a way that
other people cannot or would dare not. We love the kinds of relationships where
words aren’t even necessary. There is comfort there, in the familiarity of
understanding and loving one another and rarely feeling awkward. In being able
to communicate and be understood by the other. In many ways, even if other
people treat us better, we prefer what is most familiar. In most cases, a child
will choose mom even if she is critical or unstable or struggling with drug use
or slow to show physical affection just because she’s mom. That connection is
of the deepest with regards to familiarity. I think about the movie Pursuit of Happyness with Will Smith and his son. They faced serious struggles and in one of the saddest scenes they fall asleep on the bathroom floor of the dirty subway because they were homeless. Though Will Smith cried in that moment at the thought of not being able to provide his son with shelter, the boy fell asleep as happy as ever. Dad turned the situation into a game and there was much comfort and laughter for the boy until he fell asleep in his father’s arms. What a powerful scene. The comfort of being with dad was enough for the boy to remain emotionally stable and even content in these circumstances. There was a familiarity that was strong enough to make the foreign aspects of homelessness feel okay.
Being in India, learning different languages
(yes, plural), eating a variety of different foods (almost all spicy), in
a different way (I haven’t used a fork in two months), while wearing completely
distinct clothing (trying to remember what jeans feel like), and embracing the
unique mannerisms and unspoken social norms has not been that difficult. And living in the
culture means I get to understand why people do or say the things they do or
say, which makes it easier to adapt. The challenge is in the familiarity piece.
I’ve had to ask myself, what brings me most
comfort? What or where is my familiar place?
If like Will Smith’s son, my place of comfort
is in Dad’s Presence (capital D), then wherever He is feels like home. This has
been one remarkable reality here. The feeling of being able to eat anything,
wear whatever, sleep anywhere, and do whichever task is given, hangs on His
presence. There is so much freedom in this thought. He will never leave me and
will always lead me down paths of righteousness for His Name’s sake.
Where He is present and I am faithfully
abiding, that place will feel familiar. Where He is loved will never feel strange no
matter what language is being spoken. Removing shoes and covering my head to
enter a place of worship, where men and women sit on opposite sides and dare
not speak until it’s time to pray aloud or greet others when the opportunity is
granted is not a foreign feeling. This is how He is loved and exalted where I
am.
Strange is being with people who claim to
love Christ and look dead in worship. Foreign is the places or gatherings that
are void of the Giver of Life.
The difficult days I’ve had here are the same
as the difficult days at home---when I get distracted and stop abiding in Him. Everything
feels uncomfortable in those times and I get the feeling that I’m missing
something or someone or everything or everyone. Everything feels foreign. I’ve
had so many moments of realizing how deeply attached I am or was or am or was
(still struggling) to different people. I miss so many people terribly. Especially
those with whom I have the deepest fellowship—my sister, my team, my Jonathan. I’ve
cried many tears over these people.
Through the pain of detachment though, there
is a sweetness to feeling “at home” even in this room alone because God is
here.
This is a gift. One that He promised to all
those who would repent and believe in Christ, namely, the Holy Spirit. He is
the reason people can move to foreign lands and learn new languages and eat new
foods with people of another color and die and be buried thousands of miles
from family. He is the reason people can endure hardships, trials, persecution,
rejection, famine for the sake of Christ.
He is the One who has been boldly testifying to my
heart that every place on earth is foreign because my home is in heaven. And
yet every place can feel familiar because the One who reigns in heaven lives in
me.
“So then you
are no longer strangers and aliens, but you are fellow citizens with the saints
and members of the household of God.” Ephesians 2:19
No, in all these things we are more than
conquerors through him who loved us. For I am sure that neither death nor life,
nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor
height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate
us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.” Romans 8:35, 37-39
