
Before returning to the US, I had researched my way through culture shock, expatriatism and repatriatism as those sent abroad return to their homeland. My family and few close friends stood by in an accepting and loving welcome, as I had prayed they would be. What I wasn't expecting, however, was for my homeland to not be waiting with open arms. Sure, I knew that my stories wouldn't be received by all with excitement, but rather jealousy and ignorance on a rare occasion, but that is not the hard part. The hard part is flying into a place so familiar but yet so changed. Life went on. It's as if I tripped into a novel halfway through; everyone knows the plot line and details and I am clueless but afraid to let anyone know. I suppose I could take the "fake it 'til you make it" road, but instead I choose the "dive in and become so busy that you don't notice the storyline they're following" road. After a few weeks of being back, however, it seems that I am reading a different book entirely; not only that, but it's written in a different language.
My eyes are different, my processes are different and my heart lies elsewhere.

Problem (and answer) number two: I am in love. However, that is not the only reason why my heart is called abroad! I want to broaden my horizons so much so that I can make a valuable impact in my communities; those communities are not just within the boundaries of the wonderful US. I have pushed them to France, Germany, and who knows where else? I want to become knowledgeable in my field and gather experiences from all around the world. Also, I want to follow my heart. I want a family someday and a happy, healthy marriage to be a good example for my family, myself and my kids. I want to be ministering in three languages, cultivating a community and never stop learning. God is the only one who knows where and when I can and will accomplish these things, but He has laid them on my heart and soul and I will follow.

Culture shock 2.0: My homeland never moves, but I'm evolving.