10 Things That Change Once You Live Overseas

The rewarding experiences one gains from living life overseas can sometimes be crowded out by the inevitable struggles that come with the full, expat-life package. But it’s through those struggles and challenges that you discover more about yourself and the world around you. You embrace lessons learned and broaden your horizons. If you’ve ever lived for an extended amount of time somewhere other than your home country, then you’ve probably experienced some if not all of these changes while living abroad.

1. You are constantly learning and unlearning language. I’m no expert on the brain, but I have a suspicious feeling that my brain regularly shuts the door on certain native-tongue-vocabulary words so that my search will lead me to the word I’m looking for in my newly acquired language. That’s all fine and dandy; that is, unless I was really hoping to find the word in my native language. It’s one thing to feel a little embarrassed when you don’t know the word for something in the language you’re still learning. It’s a whole new level of embarrassment when you’re talking to close friends and family members and can’t seem to find the English word to express what you’re trying to say. No, I’m not trying to be pretentious and passively brag about the fact that I’m confusing two languages, thereby pointing out that I know two languages. I’m legitimately having a humiliating moment right now and I’m desperately trying to find the word before I let the sentence, “I forgot the English word for it,” depart from my lips.

2. Life is regularly lived out of a suitcase. For some reason, I thought our suitcases would start collecting dust once we made the big move across the world. I even thought to myself, “Wow, what are we going to do with all these suitcases now that we’ve arrived to our final destination?” Now I know. We keep on using them. The suitcases are continually slid up and down the top of our bedroom armoire as we make visa trips, medical trips, business trips, and the occasional vacation sprinkled throughout each of the aforementioned trips. We know airline luggage allowance and how to get the most use out of luggage space like it’s our national anthem. If unloading your bags and pockets, walking through a metal detector (while also herding and maintaining control of your children) and then recollecting all your possessions on the other end were an olympic sport, we would likely take home the gold year after year.

3. This is your life, not a trip. It’s a clear distinction you’re able to make once you’ve packed your life into an allowed amount of suitcases, hopped onto a plane, and then started from scratch in land that’s full of newness to you. Last time I checked, I’ve never had to repair my own toilet or pay bills and rent on any of my trips. Nevertheless, you will still be asked “How was your trip,” when you return back to your home country for a visit every now and again. Your lip might get blistered from biting it so many times. Sometimes you might want to yell from the mountaintops, “I haven’t been on a trip!” Sometimes you might want to snap back with a question of your own, “I don’t know. How have the past 3 years of your life been?” But in reality, the person asking the question means no harm or offense. Instead you give a quick, honest, and polite answer, “So much has happened the past 3 years. We’ll have to sit down to a meal sometime so I can share some of the highlights!”

4. Conversions and exchange rates are always on the mind.  In the kitchen, I have my recipe set out and my conversion app opened up on my phone. When I’m grocery shopping and see vanilla extract, my joy is quickly followed with disappointment once I’ve calculated the exchange rate in my head. We change currencies so frequently, I’m always the dumbfounded customer at the check-out counter searching frantically for the numbers on the bills and coins because I haven’t had time to memorize “the look” of the money. Cue the kind cashier woman giving me a nod of reassurance when I pull up the appropriate bill.

5. The line between normal and strange has blurred a bit. Every culture has it’s clear distinctions on what is acceptable and what’s not. However, to the outsider coming in, who brings with them a set of different, but still clearly marked, cultural “dos and don’ts”, it can cause quite the clash of viewpoints. For 23 years of my life I believed that openly picking your nose in public was just plain wrong, but picking your teeth with a toothpick after a meal was acceptable. Would you believe that the exact opposite is true where we live now? I’m not saying I pick my nose in public now…but I’m also not prepared to deny it.

6. Time is measured differently. It becomes harder and harder to measure things by calendar measurements. You tend to gravitate towards unique mile markers that help you remember how long you’ve lived in one location or how many times you’ve moved or where all you’ve lived. Sometimes a visa situation causes you to make an unexpected move, temporary or permanent. Sometimes you live in one location for language school until you’ve passed all your tests and can move on to another destination. You are never sure how long you’ll be able to stay in one spot so you just throw calendar days out the window. Instead, you measure time with things that stick out to you most. I’ll never forget the words of a TCK whose family has moved more than a few times while living overseas: “We don’t measure our life in years, but in kitchens.” For her, it’s easier to remember how many kitchens she’s cooked in with her mom rather than how many years they’ve lived in certain locations.

7. The word “routine” is not in your vocabulary. Whatever predictable outcome you once had for any given set of events has now been removed as a possibility. In fact, you now put it in the category of “miracle” if something happens the way you once thought it should happen. It’s no longer out of the ordinary to devote an entire day to paying two bills. You don’t expect electricity and water each day. You always have a back-up plan for that “just in case” moment when you’re suddenly without electricity and/or water. Your senses have sharpened because of your need to be on your toes at any given moment for the unexpected…because those moments happen a lot more frequently than they did before you moved abroad.

8. Material possessions do not equate happiness. You don’t have to move overseas to realize this, but there’s something about the nomadic life that makes you really stop and consider what you hold on to and let go of. The possibility of moving to another country is always in the back of your mind. In many cases, you’re better off not shipping a crate of all your belongings due to the fear of it being held up in customs for a year or more. This means that things might have to be sold again and dwindled down to the essentials that can fit in those suitcases of yours. You stop gathering and collecting and start making mental notes of what’s most valuable and worth hauling to another far-away land. You come to find out there are a handful of things that make this adventure of yours so great and everything else is expendable.

9. Anything seems possible. Before you moved overseas, you didn’t think it was possible to pack everything you wanted to take with you in a few suitcases. But you did it, and now you can’t remember half the stuff you left behind. Cooking seemed like such a daunting task with all the substitutions that were required to make it work. Now you’re able to whip up some of your old favorites in a flash and you’ve since added some new, local recipes to your collection (so no substitutions are required). You’ve kissed your comforts goodbye and you’ve survived. You might even be thriving in your new culture at this point.

10. You are different. You leave marks on people and people leave marks on you. Some things don’t matter to you as much as they once did and other things matter more. You’re continually humbled as you frequently find yourself in a position of needing help and guidance…sometimes from a complete stranger. Almost daily you are in a position where nothing is so familiar that you’re able to take it for granted. You knew you would set out on this new adventure as a learner of language and culture, you just didn’t realize exactly how much, in turn, you would learn about yourself.

“If you’re brave enough to leave behind everything familiar and comforting, which can be anything from your house to bitter, old resentments, and set out on a truth-seeking journey, either externally or internally, and if you are truly willing to regard everything that happens to you on that journey as a clue and if you accept everyone you meet along the way as a teacher and if you are prepared, most of all, to face and forgive some very difficult realities about yourself, then the truth will not be withheld from you.”

Elizabeth Gilbert

Giving to the Homeless

Inmate Football

There was an unusual high school football game played in Grapevine, Texas . The game was between Grapevine   Faith Academy and the Gainesville   State School. Faith is a Christian school and Gainesville State School is located within a maximum security correction facility.

Gainesville State School has 14 players. They play every game on the  road. Their record was 0-8. They've only scored twice. Their 14 players  are teenagers who have been convicted of crimes ranging from drugs to assault to robbery. Most had families who had disowned them.  They wore  outdated, used shoulder pads and helmets. Faith Academy was 7-2. They  had 70 players, 11 coaches, and the latest equipment.

Chris Hogan, the head coach at Faith Academy , knew the Gainesville team  would have no fans and it would be no contest, so he thought, “What if half of our fans and half of our cheerleaders, for one night only,  cheered for the other team?”  He sent out an email to the faithful asking them to do just that. “Here’s the message I want you to send,”  Hogan wrote. “You’re just as valuable as any other person on the   planet.”

Some folks were confused and thought he was nuts. One player said,  “Coach, why are we doing this?” Hogan said, “Imagine you don’t have a home life, no one to love you, no one pulling for you. Imagine that everyone pretty much had given up on you. Now, imagine what it would  feel like and mean to you for hundreds of people to suddenly believe in you.”

The idea took root. On the night of the game, imagine the surprise of  those 14 players when they took the field and there was a banner the  cheerleaders had made for them to crash through. The visitors’ stands were full. The cheerleaders were leading cheers for them. The fans were  calling them by their names. Isaiah, the quarterback-middle linebacker said, “I never in my life thought I would hear parents cheering to  tackle and hit their kid. Most of the time, when we come out, people are  afraid of us. You can see it in their eyes, but these people are yelling  for us. They knew our names.”

Faith won the game, and after the game the teams gathered at the 50-yard  line to pray. That’s when Isaiah, the teenage convict-quarterback surprised everybody and asked if he could pray.   he prayed, “Lord, I  don’t know what just happened so I don’t know how or who to say thank  you to, but I never knew there were so many people in the world who cared about us.”  On the way back to the bus, under guard, each one of  the players was handed a burger, fries, a coke, candy, a Bible, and an  encouraging letter from the players from Faith Academy .

Radical Sacrifice by Trevin Wax

Last Thursday, James MacDonald gathered a group of mega-church pastors for a conference called “The Elephant Room.” The sessions featured lively discussion and friendly debate regarding a number of controversial methodological, theological, and practical issues related to church ministry. (See notes here.) One of the most interesting sessions was David Platt and James MacDonald’s conversation on sacrifice and generosity.

David Platt made the case that wealth and money, though not inherently sinful, are dangerous in the hands of sinful people. Our current context of self-indulgence needs to be challenged. Spiritual transformation leads to material transformation. The gospel gives us generous hearts that overflow into radical sacrifice for God’s eternal purposes. When God blesses us financially, He intends us to give to others.

James MacDonald warned that a distorted version of Platt’s teaching equates “poverty” and “spirituality.” Instead, MacDonald believes we need a full-orbed theology of joy in God that includes joy in the good gifts God has given us. Emphasizing radical sacrifice can lead to poverty theology that is all about the immediate divesting of money rather than the multiplication of money that will lead to greater involvement in mission.

The Points of Agreement

The MacDonald/Platt discussion was tense at times, perhaps because the practical ramifications of how we think about money always hit close to home. Still, there are three major points on which Platt and MacDonald agree:

1. Money and possessions are a good gift from God.
2. Money and possessions can become idolatrous.
3. We are called to exercise stewardship of our finances in a way that pleases the Lord and furthers the spread of His name.

The Debate

Even though Platt and MacDonald would “Amen” each of these points, they have diverging views on the particulars of how these truths should be applied. MacDonald believes we need a theology of joy that reiterates point #1. Platt believes we are underestimating the idolatrous pull of point #2. Then, because MacDonald emphasizes #1 and Platt focuses on #2, they have radically different notions about how to apply #3.

I feel the tension of this discussion at a deeply personal level. When I lived in Romania, I wrestled daily with the tension of being one of the “haves” in a world of “have-nots.” Over the course of my years overseas, all my categories were shattered, so that I was confused, challenged, content, frustrated, joyful, and well-meaning at different moments and in different ways. Here are the cycles of my personal journey:

1. Culture Shock at Poverty

When I first began ministry overseas, I was deeply moved by the poverty I noticed. Early on, I wrote an email to family and friends:

You know I am not one to dwell on the bad things or poverty, but sometimes, the situations here can really get to me… Every now and then I wish to be home to just have a good long cry about all the things that happen here. Here, it’s impossible, because it’s almost like you’re in a bubble, and you have to separate your heart from your mind somewhat, just to make it through emotionally. Your mind can see something, but you have to keep it from getting to your heart until you have time to really process what you’ve seen and carry with you the emotional baggage that comes with it.

The longer I was in Romania, the more I realized that even poor Romanian villages would be considered “rich” by the standards of third-world countries. Poverty is defined in so many different ways, and the way we define poverty impinges on how we spread the gospel. Many times, I have asked David Platt’s question: “How do we proclaim the gospel in a world in which utter poverty (no drinking water, starving people, enormous economic needs) is so prevalent?”

2. Culture Shock at Wealth

Upon returning to the U.S. after spending a year away, I was surprised by our wealth. I remember arriving back in Nashville, and asking – in the fog of jet lag – “When did they put a new car lot near the airport?” Dad answered: “That’s just the parking lot, Trevin.” Strange, but after so much time away, my mind couldn’t conceive of the fact that all the new, shiny cars were owned by average citizens. Even now, I remember the feeling I had when I noticed how easy it was to walk downstairs and get a glass of water. After having lived in a village with no indoor plumbing, water from the refrigerator seemed like a luxury.

3. Frustration with Materialism

The longer I looked at the U.S. from the outside in, the more I noticed our excess wealth. Closets stuffed full of junk… credit card debt racked up on frivolities… churches budgeting thousands of dollars to activities that seemed designed more for the comfort of church members than God’s mission in the world… Our priorities seemed so out of line!

And then there was the day I received an email invitation to take a pastor-led cruise with a number of famous preachers. I remember the odd feeling of walking from the computer to the window where I could see homeless Gypsies scavenging through the dumpster outside our apartment complex. The jarring juxtaposition of wealth and poverty frustrated me.

4. Repentance for my Patronizing Attitude

After the period of frustration, the Lord convicted my heart for my superior attitude toward my Romanian brothers and sisters. My initial mindset had been: “I’m the rich American here to help the poor Romanians.” That attitude was unhealthy, anti-gospel, and ultimately untrue.

God opened my eyes to see the problem of dividing people into categories of “rich and poor.” I had the opportunity to serve alongside “poor” Romanians who were doing mercy ministry to poorer people. We prayed as Romanian missionaries went to third-world countries to spread the gospel. Over time, my categories were shattered. Christians are poor in spirit, called to be generous. Forget the categories. Quit patronizing our brothers and sisters, many of whom are richer spiritually than we’ll ever be. We’re united in our service by the cross, not the size of our wallets.

5. Repentance for my Judgmental Attitude

Then, God started in on me from another angle. He exposed my judgmental attitude toward “wealthy Americans.” Though I had looked with disgust at the idea of a “pastor’s cruise,” I eventually realized that this type of vacation was attractive to many pastors – not because they were idolatrous materialists, but because being “inaccessible” on a cruise is one of the only ways they can feel truly “off”. A pastor-led cruise may, for some, lead to rest and spiritual renewal in a way I had not considered. Whatever the reasons, I needed to repent of my patronizing attitude to the poor and my superior attitude to the rich.

Where Do We Go from Here?

One of the most helpful books I have read on the subject of wealth is Neither Poverty nor Riches: A Biblical Theology of Possessions by Craig Blomberg. The points that Platt and MacDonald agree on are declared loudly and clearly in Blomberg’s work. We can gratefully enjoy God’s gifts. We must beware of the idolization of wealth. We must give where we want our heart to be.

I don’t claim to have figured out the debate about radical generosity and stewardship. But there are places where I think both emphases could lead to unhealthy extremes.

MacDonald is right that there is nothing inherently spiritual about poverty. But I’m cautious about his statement that financial blessing flows to fruitfulness. Sometimes. Maybe often. But not all the time. I’ve served alongside many pastors who didn’t reap financial rewards, even though they had very fruitful ministries. Conflating financial blessing with fruitfulness can lead to unwarranted appreciation of prosperity-gospel teachers who confuse the two (just as the ancient world did). Christ has set us free from the shackles of “success” defined by the world.

Platt is right that we live in a culture that seeks joy in more and more things. His focus on “radical sacrifice” as the outworking of gospel generosity should be commended. But I’m cautious that Platt’s teaching could be turned into a legalistic, obligatory exercise that leaves little room for the full-orbed theology of joy that MacDonald talks about.

A couple months ago, Platt tweeted: About to coach my first T-ball practice. Scared. Really scared. The next tweet was: Exhausted. Stressed. Filthy. Sore. Glad to be coach. Grateful to be dad. I chuckled when I read those tweets, and I was glad to see them. Why? Because that image of joy-filled leisure and recreation can easily get lost in the “radical” image that comes through Platt’s books, conference messages, and the branding machine of the publishing industry.

Conclusion

The more I think about those three points, the more I am convinced that it’s not a “balance between the three” that is necessary, but a radical, unshakeable commitment to all three.

• We need to pursue joy in the God who gives us good gifts, intentionally basking in His goodness to us, growing in gratitude for His provision, and enjoying His gifts as the good things they are.
• We also need to be radical in our realization of how idolatrous good things can become when they take the throne of our lives. Our commitment to enjoying the good things of life should be matched by our ruthless efforts to root out idols from our lives, to find our satisfaction in God alone, and not just the gifts He gives us.
• In the end, radical stewardship will look different from person to person, from church to church, – but we are all called to be good stewards, to prioritize rightly, to sacrifice for the King out of gospel-soaked generous hearts. Radical sacrifice must always overflow from a heart that is gripped by the gospel; otherwise, it becomes a joyless and fruitless effort of self-righteousness.