I just moved. I put all my belongings in one car and drove
to the other side of the United States. And I, like so many who have gone
before me, struggled with that move.
And I’m ashamed to admit it. I, who have traveled so often,
who have lived cross culturally and learned a new language… I, who was so
adamant that this new area of the world was where the Lord was calling me next…
I, who was so excited to start again and get a fresh perspective… I struggle.
Texas to North Carolina. Both are considered South (yes, I
know that no place is truly like Texas!). Both are spread out, hot, crazy
locations. Neither is a foreign culture. English is spoken in both places. Yet,
when I arrived, I was hit with a fantastic sense of culture shock.
School zones are at crazy times. There are no street lights
on major roads. It takes me 20 minutes to get anywhere exciting. And they have
this thing called Texas Pete that is not from Texas at all. Barbecue is
different. I’m afraid to try Mexican food. And I am now the proud owner of at
least 4 grocery cards…because if not, who can afford groceries?
I’ve been here for almost a month. And I find that meeting
people is difficult. Maybe it’s because everyone’s schedule is so crazy. Maybe
it’s because I live off campus. Whatever the reason, I was extremely grateful
when I finally found a family who would accept my invitation to dinner. And I
was overjoyed to find a Texan neighbor experiencing the same Texas withdraws,
so we can anguish together. And I’m thankful for roommates and an exam buddy
who have made sure that I am properly introduced into society.
I’ve almost completed a month here. In some ways, my life feels tortuously
slow. In others, I can't believe it's already been a this long. For this past month, I
felt like I was peddling, but getting nowhere. I hated myself for struggling. I
felt like friendships were impossible. I didn’t want to get out because I
didn’t know where to go (thank God for coffee shops or my extrovert self might
have gone insane). I felt like I was trapped in this fog. I woke up. I studied
for a proficiency exam. I read for my PhD program. I went for a walk. I tried
out a new grocery store. And I came home.
And then, one day, I walked out of the fog. It wasn’t easy.
It was a choice. I said to myself that things had to change. I kept inviting
people over (still do). I found a gym. I got a job. And life started to shift
forward.
And today, I was reminded why I came. In John 10:4, it says,
“When he has brought out all his own, he goes on ahead of them, and his sheep
follow him because they know his voice.” When I decided to follow Jesus, I
told him I would follow wherever He led. That means deepest darkest Africa or
the tree-lined roads of North Carolina. I follow because I know His voice. And
I hope that one day, I will hear that voice say, “Well done, good and faithful
servant.”
Culture shock in North Carolina is far from over. I’m sure
there will be days when I hate the driving, the grocery stores (send an HEB,
quick!!!), and the different gait of life here. But then, by His grace, I will
listen to the voice of my shepherd and say, “No turning back.”
