It must have been around the time we left for Africa. I can’t tell you exactly.
In the midst of weighing (over and over and over) plastic bins and duffels, hauling kids for immunizations, and making decisions on an African rental, sight unseen–a phrase from my mom sticks in my mind.
She referred to my sister: Just remember that even though you’re losing a lot, you’re going toward something.
We’re excited to welcome back Sheri of Engineering Ministries International for her final post of her invaluable three-part series on “cultural icebergs”–this time, evaluating collectivist vs. individualist societies.
EMI mobilizes architects, engineers, construction managers, and other design professionals–including those through an incredible internship program–to provide design services for those helping the poor. We’re talking water projects, hospitals, schools, orphanages, you name it. Meanwhile, they raise up disciples and trained professionals in-country.
We talk a lot over here about what you wish you knew before you went overseas. We’ve called it a rabbit hole. So maybe it’s a little like The Matrix: Red pill? Blue Pill?
So I’ll tell you today what you might want to know: Going overseas will mark you indelibly.
Back when my husband and I were considering adoption in our host country, I wrote,
Ever had a friend whose passion occasionally outpaced his good judgment? Maybe you’re like, Dude. I love your heart. But you’re killing me.
You can see where I might be going with this. I’ve heard someone casually remark that one of the larger obstacles to your generation going overseas might actually be your parents. As possibly one of the most protected, safety-conscious generations in history, the struggle is real.
We’re excited to welcome back global veteran David Armstrong. He’s set foot in 15 countries, and confesses that Crepes and Waffles in Bogota, Colombia is one of his favorite restaurants.
My kids spotted me as I rounded the corner two blocks from home–and started laughing and pointing. I was sporting the shortest haircut I had had since basic training. I tried to look confident.. I meant for it to be this short. I’m cool. Truth: I didn’t know how to tell the barber “too short”.
But it made me the winner of the “Most Mortifying Moment” prize that month–and paved the way for my kids to succeed. My too-much-off-the-sides demonstration: You can roll with this.
