Premature Culture Shock

Still here at orientation.

Still in America. Kind of.

It feels like I’m seeing all sorts of places though, honestly. They are doing everything they can here to push us into other cultures. One night we worshipped in Russian. In the cold.

For lunch one day, we had Middle Eastern food and we were made to eat using our hands—no silverware allowed.

Last week we celebrated India and worshipped in Hindi, complete with a Bollywood-esque dance number and gender-separated sanctuary. Earlier that week some of the girls got to learn to draw bible stories in henna on our hands.

I gotta say—I’m loving all this culture. Other than the fact that my hands smelled like meatballs for a whole day, it has been pretty fun. I know I’m going to Argentina and I should focus on that, sure… but God is stamping the nations on my heart here. All of ‘em.

The two common questions we ask around here are “Where are you from?” and “Where are you going?” Because the places we go change us. They leave their mark in memories. And though we’re all from different places and going to different places there’s a commonality at our core, knowing our wandering hearts find rest in the very same place.

Knowing that home is far away.

Knowing we’re aliens in this world anyway.

For sure, I’m getting stir crazy here in this multi-cultural vacuum. Some days I find myself looking for a chance to make a grocery store run. But there are moments when I stop and realize that these days are special and that I will miss them when they’re gone.

And every now and then I like to let myself be overwhelmed by the faithfulness that brought me here, this long journey I find myself on. And it’s only just beginning. I’m not even in Argentina yet! What a privilege to be transformed and used and molded by this God! He surprises me with blessings I didn’t know to ask for. This time is one of those. These friendships too.

Okay yeah, and probably this weird place too.

Bible stories with Henna
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