Unchanging

My husband and I once lived polar opposite lives. We poked fun at this at our wedding by creating a world map that spanned our lives up until that point. On the map, my little circle bounced around the globe every few years while his pulsed steadily in one spot for his first eighteen years.

Raised as a Third Culture Kid (TCK), my life was in constant flux. It wasn’t until my adulthood that I managed to live in one house for more than four consecutive years. Together with my husband, we answered the call to overseas service. Change continues to be a constant companion.

Sometimes the change is exhilarating—we get to live lives that other people dream of. No nine-to-five routine. We have the privilege of experiencing the world, meeting all kinds of beautiful people, and collecting all kinds of captivating stories. We get to experience the brilliant colors and flavors of different cultures. We get to serve on the front lines and see God change hearts in dark places.

But then there are days and seasons where the exhilaration turns to exhaustion. We crave monotony. Predictable routine. The depth of relationship that can come with years of putting down roots. We long for fewer goodbyes and greater proximity to family. We long to put away suitcases long enough to collect a thick layer of dust.

I don’t know about you, but I find my heart has this ebb and flow of loving and loathing change. When I find myself dipping into the valley of despair, the Father gently reminds me of three things.

First, no matter where I am in the world, no matter what my job description is for that season—be it as a language learner or a guest speaker—my identity will never change. I am a daughter of the King. An image bearer. Fearfully and wonderfully made. Redeemed by his grace. Loved because of whose I am and not what I do.

Undoubtedly, there are seasons in our international worker lifestyle that feel shinier and more glamorous than others. These are the parts that we often link our identity to. We fall prey to the belief that our value comes from what we do and that we aren’t succeeding if we don’t have impressive numbers to report or a story of significant change to share. But God doesn’t keep score that way. My identity is rooted in being his.

Second, his call on my life will not change. The specifics of the call or the location where I live it out might change, but at the end of the day, the call on my life is to love him with all my heart, soul, and mind and to reflect his love for the world.

We come from a tradition of international workers who packed their worldly possessions into coffins and sailed away, committing to terms that were much longer than the ones we serve now. We’re often tempted to believe that if we feel called to the nations, the rest of our lives will be spent overseas. We’re tempted to believe that if for some reason we find ourselves grounded in our passport countries, we will be filed away as failures. Our heart for the nations usually includes living cross-culturally, but we are not limited to that geographical requirement to fulfill our calling. We forget that our faithfulness in the daily grind is just as important. We have been placed in this moment, this season, this country for a time and a purpose—to encounter him.

Lastly, and most importantly, my God will not change. He is the same today as he was yesterday and will be tomorrow. He is the same when I am in my passport country as he is when I am in my host country. Like my husband’s unchanging spot on the map, the God I serve is unwavering, ever-present, and reliable. No matter how much the storm of change wages on the outside, no matter how much turmoil and tiredness are stirred by change in my mind, the one who dwells inside of my heart is a shelter in the ever-changing winds and I hear his warm and comforting voice, “I am with you.” 

Does change feel exhilarating or exhausting to you right now? What truths have encouraged your heart?