We’ve all done it: arriving in a new place and feeling like a child that can’t even get a clean drink of water without significant help from someone else. The first time we arrived in our West African city, I was completely helpless. I didn’t know what kind of clothes I wanted to wear or how to make breakfast. And I was struggling to know how the way I wanted to set up a house could ever jive with our new apartment and all the (helpful?) input I was getting from local ladies who came to check on me. In every corner of my house, I felt they were telling me, “You’re doing it wrong.” I wondered if we’d need to change every little thing about how our family ran in order to fit in.
Fast forward a few years and a billion cultural blunders, I look back at that “me” and it makes me laugh. If only she could see me now!
Today, we find ourselves freshly arrived back from our first home assignment with a very different perspective. This was the first time that we were going to a place we already knew. Between living in many homes and a camper in the States, moving to language school, then to an apartment in West Africa, and then to our current home in the same city . . . we have set up house many times.
But this time is different. We’re no longer in survival mode. We know which cultural expectations are important to keep and which we can dismiss and laugh about with our local friends—we “crazy Americans” can do life a little differently! We’ve adapted our family culture to be a blend of our host country and our own comforts. Because we’re no longer focused on surviving, we have mental capacity to think about thriving.
What does that look like? How do we create a home that is a haven for our family overseas? A place we can invite both locals and expats into with joy and hospitality?
We set the stage with small, practical things. We run the air conditioning at night in the rooms where we sleep. We splurge on our favorite imported snacks. We always have worship music playing in the background of our home. We have couches, board games, a Nespresso machine, and pets. Perhaps loveliest of all is the wall around our home, which provides a privacy barrier and a retreat from the rest of the neighborhood.
Once our home feels like a physical haven, it can become an emotional haven too. I know that the emotional temperature of my home has everything to do with our spiritual and emotional health as parents. Spending time in Scripture and being sensitive to the leading of the Holy Spirit has been vital to our ability to interact with our kids with peace and joy. We talk about everything. We have family debrief retreats to the beach. We eat dinner together and regularly check in with our kids.
With each international move and weighing of suitcases, it has been important that my kids bring with them their favorite things, no matter how trivial I find them. They each have had a “special things drawer” in every place we’ve lived. I want my kids to know that they are a valued part of our team and that we care about what they care about.
Our home is also arranged for connection. Our couches face toward each other, our entry room has a table and chairs for entertaining drop-by guests, and I have a tray of glasses in the pantry to be able to serve drinks at a moment’s notice. While we love our wall, we love even more to invite people into our space. We have seen hospitality done well by our local friends, and we seek to imitate them.
We don’t want to just survive; we want to thrive in this life and the work we get to do. Survival mode is a necessary beginning to set the stage for the next season. If I could go back in time to that me who couldn’t figure out how to tie fabric around her waist and make it stay up, I would say, “This is just the beginning. Feeling settled will come.”
And to you, fellow expat friend, if this is where you find yourself, I say that this necessary time of “survival mode” will blossom into a beautiful home that is ready to welcome all who enter. Keep up the good work!
I leave you with a liturgy. Pray this as you intentionally set up your homes as spaces of rest, comfort, and growth.
Lord, as you’re preparing a place for us,
May we prepare glimpses of heaven on earth for our family.
As we create spaces where our family can thrive,
May our family see this home as a haven, a refuge, a safe space.
May they experience Christ through us in this space,
The arms of Christ that hug and comfort
The ears of Christ that listen well
The hands of Christ that serve nourishing food
The wings of Christ that surround and protect from danger
The mind of Christ that thinks well
The heart of Christ that serves with humility
The tone of Christ’s voice that disciples with care
The love of Christ that is ever-present
The truth of Christ in the gospel
May this space become a home that gives a glimpse of heaven on earth.
May our family know our Savior better because of their time in this space, in our home.
Where do you find yourself in the spectrum of surviving to thriving? Are you ready to think about thriving as a family in your home? In what ways could you make hospitality easier on yourself (like keeping a tray of glasses ready to serve drinks or having local snacks always on hand)? In what ways has your family adapted to your host culture and how have you been able to keep your “crazy different” habits?
One Response
So good, thank you! We have just been in country a bit over a month and just last week we didn’t have workers in the house repairing the home aka breaking title and tearing down walls! So we are just starting to turn the corner and focus now on thriving and not surviving. Bless you!