This month I finished my term and made it back to America.
My last few weeks were full, surreal, and very emotional. I experienced so many “lasts” and had lots of tearful goodbyes. I’m still processing the end of that part of my life, but a few moments and thoughts stand out the most. In my last coffee date with my friend, D, who I previously shared the meaning of communion with, she was the one who opened the door for spiritual conversation! She asked about Christmas and different Christian beliefs. We talked about Christmas Eve church services and I shared how we often use candles to represent Christ bringing light and hope into the world. I noticed she was much more comfortable than the last time these topics got brought up. I pray she keeps opening up and desires the light in her life.
Before leaving, one of my goals was to share my testimony in Arabic with my friend and language teacher, M. Goal accomplished! I shared some of the hardest parts of my life and focused on the lies I’ve believed about God—mainly that I’m not good enough to be loved. This part felt particularly important since the way to heaven in Islam is through works. She was very kind and receptive as she listened, and even told me, “Don’t ever think those things about yourself because they’re not true.” I think a lot of things she believes about God come more from Jesus than Islam, and I pray she would see that the God she truly desires is fulfilled in Christ.
I had so many sweet opportunities to spend time with/say goodbye to 15 Arab friends between my going-away party, a wedding, coffee, or in my home. I’m thankful that God put each of these people in my life and allowed me to connect with, learn from, and hopefully show Christ’s love to them.
I’m immensely grateful for the 2 weeks I spent in Hungary debriefing, processing, resting, and preparing for this big change. I think the in-between time gave me the time and tools I needed to approach this transition well. Nonetheless, re-entry has not gone as smoothly as I envisioned. Some culture shock moments have included: pumping my own gas (and actually walking into a gas station), almost telling my mom to shush when she dropped “the M bomb” (missionary) in public, no Arabic in church, and flushing toilet paper. I have also surprisingly said the phrase, “I don’t know what that is/who that is/what you’re talking about,” a lot.
Mostly I’ve felt overwhelmed and out of place. I miss my team, my friends, my roommate (and her cats), the food, and the life I made there. I’m so thankful for my time in Jordan, and I remind myself that the grief means what I left matters. I’m praying for patience and kindness for myself in this transition.