Homesick Hermit

So here we are in year 3 of our stint in Korea. At some point last year when we were parting with a friend, he shared his concern about our well-being. As a former expat himself, he believes the third year in a foreign country is the hardest. Well, so far, he is right. Grant it, not every expat has the added benefit of experiencing a pandemic while they are thousands of miles from home, but even without COVID-19 I am confident that the homesick bugs would be biting just as much. I miss my friends and family. I miss being a part of their lives. I miss getting to hear great news from a loved one face to face instead of on social media or during a video chat. There have literally been days when I have wanted to just give up and go home. But do I even have a home? What does home even mean anymore? Now for loved ones who might be reading this, I do not mean that you are not home in my heart; quite the opposite. However, I have been changed. You have been changed. Everyone has. Time does that. Distance can make the heart fonder, but it can also make it stranger. And when another culture is added into the mix, the changes can be perplexing. In Cambodia the time difference was one that allowed us to stay in touch with family on a regular basis. Here, between the time difference and the cultural work hours, it has been a great challenge to stay connected. Honestly, besides the ongoing messages with our moms, all we receive or send is an occasional message of love from/to someone back home. Okay, before this all starts sounding whiney and pathetic, I do have a reason for this post. What is this reason? My discovery of a conundrum: you can be both homesick while still having no desire to talk to anyone. How can I be ready to jump on a plane to come home, and yet overwhelmed by the idea of being surrounded by familiar faces again?

Wait, what?

Yep. Crazy, right? I have been so homesick I have literally made myself sick a few times (stress may have added to the problem), and yet, the thought of connecting with loved ones back home is utterly exhausting. Why is this? What is wrong with me? Well, after a little research, I have discovered that I am not the only expat who has felt this way. Apparently culture shock, culture acceptance, and daily living in a foreign country can be enough to drain you in unexplainable ways. The closest I have come to describing it is the image of a 3 month old taking in the world around them. There is so much sensory stimulation that their little brains have never experienced before, and at some point its just too much. The difference is that as babies they have the blessing of being able to nod off and enjoy some rest before the next overstimulating episode. However, we adults have to figure out how to keep going even though part of us just wants to drift off into oblivion for a few hours...or weeks. Bradley and I have been doing this foreign work stuff for several years now. However, we have done it in two different countries. Our five years of experience as missionaries is therefore not equal to 5 years. Rather, it is more like we just started to toddle around in Cambodia before we made our way back to the states. Although our time there gave us a slight advantage in the Korean culture, we were still babes in a foreign country. I would say we are probably a 4 year old, experience-wise. Just go with me on this.

We were so excited for Ryan and Tiffany to join us in the work here. It has been a priceless blessing. Our faith has been bolstered; our morale boosted; and worship has been much richer. However, this wonderful couple is new to the missionary field. Until Korea they had never been out of the country - I was in their shoes when we moved to Cambodia. There is quite a learning curve for them, and the only teachers who can appreciate their situation are still learning themselves. With this whole "experience age" in mind, it is kind of like a 4 year old caring for their baby sibling. No matter how hard a 4 year-old tries, they are limited, and will eventually need an adult to take control. But there is no "adult" here. Somedays are so comically frustrating that they should be on a reality series somewhere. I imagine the 4 year-old lovingly carrying their baby from one room to the next, but their grip has left baby dangling in a very awkward and concerning position. I could go on with the analogy, but hopefully you get the idea: in daily living we are preschoolers trying to assist an adorable couple of infants. It is exhausting for both parties.

Then there is the work we are doing. Bradley and I have each been a Christian for over 20 years. Even though we are physically younger or of equal age with most of the people with whom we study, spiritually-speaking, we are the experienced ones. The responsibility of providing the knowledge and wisdom is consuming. I may not have been blessed with physical children, but I can appreciate the mothers who cherish a few moments to themselves before the children are again needing their assistance.

Please do not misunderstand me, it is an absolute honor to serve both as the 4 year-old helper and the spiritual mother. But, that does not change the fact that at the end of the day, I am ready to shut the world out and crawl into bed. The thought of calling or messaging someone feels like so much work. I still do it because I know it is healthy to stay connected, but it takes a conscious effort.

One of those moments that keeps us going...

Late night for us... early morning for them... so worth it.

So, maybe there is a legitimate reason for my dealing with these seemingly conflicted feelings. Even though I have not stayed as connected as I had hoped, I am confident that when the time comes, I will be able to figure out how to be at home with everyone again. Until then I will do my best to find balance as I live out the life of a homesick hermit.

What about you? Have you dealt with being a homesick hermit?
If so, how did you cope?
Cheers!