Do I Love My Host Country? It’s Complicated.

A few months ago, we celebrated eight years living in our host country. Eight years isn’t all that long in the grand scheme of many global workers’ tenures, but for us, every year that passes feels like a victory. 

Each year, we try to take time to both celebrate and reflect, remembering what the Lord has done and praising him for these accomplishments and processing the moments that happened along the way. 

At some point in our reflection this year, my husband asked me, “Do you love this country? Like, really love it? Love the people, the culture, all of it?”

I took a beat before I answered. Though I knew my gut reaction rang true in my heart, I wanted to be sure to articulate myself both honestly and accurately. Because it felt like it wasn’t okay to say. Like it was a feeling I should be ashamed of, should hide from those around me.

“It’s . . . complicated.”

And it really is. 

Because it should be an easy answer, right? I’ve spent eight years of my life, over half my marriage, in this country. I’ve built a home here, I’m raising my children here. I must really love it! 

But it’s not that simple.

I think, somewhere along the way, I internalized an almost transactional, prosperity-gospel-esque “promise” that, if I was obedient and faithful to the call God had on my life to go and serve overseas, he would bless me with a deep love and sense of home, and that I would feel like I found the place my heart has always longed for, in whatever country he called me into.

But in truth, that just isn’t what has happened, because this isn’t what we are promised. 

Please don’t hear me wrong. I love my life. I love living in Rwanda and I love so many Rwandese. I love a lot of things about Rwandan culture. There is no question that this is where my family and I are called to live and serve and pour out our lives right now. We aren’t leaving anytime soon!

But there are . . . things.

Cultural things that make me crazy. Deeply rooted mindsets and patterns of sin that need to be transformed by Jesus. Things that find me triggered by past trauma at some point nearly every day. I am exhausted by the dust, the staring, the power cuts, the language barrier, the begging. 

The truth is, I am not deeply in love with this country, this culture. I’m just not.

And I think that’s okay. 

Because I wasn’t promised this.

Instead, what was I promised? What would the result of my obedience be? Contentment. 

And as the years have gone by, and I have wrestled with culture stress and trials and frustrations and grief, I have found myself on the other side of obedience deeply content. 

And on the days when I long to be somewhere else, I realize that I’m not deeply in love with that country or culture, either. I wouldn’t feel differently about my passport country, or whatever other exotic location I daydream about being called to. If you’re reading from one of them, you probably agree!

The more I think about it, the more I think this is just evidence of God’s plan for us. Our home is in him, with him, and we are never meant to be fully at home or satisfied anywhere in this world. But he does call us to obedience, and he does call us to chase contentment. 

Maybe, as you consider your own heart towards your host country, you find yourself in a similar place as me. Maybe you are sitting in hard-fought contentment. Well done, friend. It’s a lot of surrender and grace to get here.

But maybe you find yourself in a different place, a place I know quite well. One that brings you tears of frustration each day. One that makes you question your steps of obedience to move to this place. A place that, honestly, doesn’t feel great. Doesn’t feel like home. It might even feel a little like failure. Or betrayal. God, is this what you have for me? Is this what you promised?

Friend, you are in it. And it IS complicated. The line between cultural stress and adjustment, and genuine struggle that needs support, is a fine one. I am praying you have the discernment to see which side you’re on. 

But it’s very possible that you are smack in the middle of the Lord’s perfect will for you, and the destination you’re looking for is contentment, not deep love. 

Ask the Lord. Let him give you wisdom to discern. 

Ask Jesus. Let him sit with you and tell you how he sees your host country. 

Ask the Spirit. Allow the Spirit to transform your heart and renew your mind. 

Wherever you find yourself on this journey, know that your honesty and vulnerability is welcome here. You can say the things that you aren’t sure you should utter aloud. Sometimes, that takes away their power. Know that you are being prayed for as you chase contentment and wade through the complicated emotions of learning to love another land, even if you are never “in love” with it. And know that at the end of obedience lies a perfect Home with our perfect Maker, where you are fully known and fully loved.