Coliseum

Re-entry into the States can be a field mine of cultural snafus.  My husband lived for over 22 years in the same house, same place, same everything I'm pretty sure.  I had this glorious crazy life of three homes and trains, planes and automobiles every three months of my growing up life, well after I turned ten.  That means I went to boarding school and got to travel home often, but we had two homes one in the plains and a small one in the mountains that we used for a month or two each year.  Confused yet, trying living it.  All this happened in a South Asian country.  Exciting.  What High Schooler can say they have sat in the cockpit of a passenger plane while it landed in the Sindh desert.

After that crazy goodness, I went to college a continent away from my parents, who now lived on yet another continent.  I would drag my uni friends to the airport to hang out for fun on the weekend.  They thought it was novel and interesting.  I thought it was home.  Needless to say culture shock still hits me when we return to our "home" country.

Adults who grew up in the States may also find the return a little daunting, like the Hubster.  One mom I heard of took lessons via you tube on how to put on make-up.  She needed to be ready for the new sexy mommy look required of American woman I guess.  In a land where everything melts off and white powder on the face is a popular beautifying method perhaps her self improving regiment would pay off for me too. Returning to a land where I have to wear underwear and use English all the time is just a few of those scary things. 

In an attempt to ready myself for a four day whirl wind trying not get too winded by reverse culture shock I took a look at this summer's fashions.  Do people really wear gladiator clothing?  As far as I can tell gladiator is in this year.  Gladiators and jailbirds.  Fashion at its height.  I guess I will stick with old faithful black core, throw in my white pale skin and add spikes to my hair.   I'll just fit in great like a real coliseum star.

Actually this whole issue runs deeper.  Where do I fit in?  Will I ever fit in?  A friend recently said, "I'm just awkward.  The whole small talk thing wears me out."  Sore Thumb Syndrome hits the best of us at the worst of times.  I feel like I go from awkwardness to awkwardness and as I get older I have less grace for myself.  As I read about Jesus' life I realize how awkward many of his conversations were and how he wasn't afraid of them.  He wasn't afraid of awkward people or of awkward conversations.  He wasn't so consumed with Himself that He worried about how others were perceiving Him.

I am asking God for grace to look full into His face and feel a sense of belonging, safety, and humility.  As I return to the land of the plentiful I want a heart that is thankful to attend a close friend's wedding, a husband who is releasing me, friends who helped finance this trip, and time that I get to spend with family.  It will be the first time in years that my four siblings will be in the same house together. This trip, life, is not about fitting in, it is about being and being well, "but Iah shure hope to look good doin' it."