furloughing contradictions

Furlough

How do you define a term that at once is a contradiction? Furlough is a missions term describing the 2 months to 2 years of time when the missionary returns to their home country to rejuvenate, reconnect, and reeducate before returning back to their assigned ministry location. It’s the term Geoff and I have been using to label our 2-month turned 10-month trip to the USA. On paper and in my daydreams, it was to be a lovely affair of dining with friends, reveling with family, and resting on my own. It has been all of these things. And simultaneously, it has also been the closest thing I’ve experienced to the emotional chaos felt by a pregnant woman! So much so, that I was even worried recently that I might BE pregnant simply because of my emotional instability. I was not. But, the emotional roller coaster remains. This has been a time of hiding back tears, stifling screams, and downing lots of coffee to keep myself from slipping into psychological sleep. Wow, that sounds terrible.

Reverse-culture shock is said to be one of the biggest stressors for folks returning home. And for me, it’s the mystery of it that makes it so difficult. What I mean is, I don’t know WHY I want to cry, or scream, or sleep. I just do. And the slightest little things set my mind reeling. That UNKNOWN perpetrator is so hard to deal with because I can’t fix it if I don’t know what it is. My marriage is strong. My daughter is sweet and beautiful. My job is a dream. So why do I feel this way?

I don’t know the answer yet. But here are a few guesses. For one, we’re in a new home every few weeks, often every few days. Two, I am immersed in the American culture of consumerism of which I can’t take part because I don’t have closets to fill with things I don’t need. Three, intimacy with my husband is just that. Intimate. And therefore very difficult when you’re always surrounded by someone else’s things. Fourth, being here makes me want to enjoy the things of America. But I have to go back to the Philippines. We’re not finished yet, and I know that. But the American dream is so strong on this soil…a house, a job, a family, a church, a stable consistent life of security. Nevermind the fact that this is not what life is really about much less truly attainable. Fifth, I’m an introvert. How an introvert ever found a place living overseas, I don’t know. Nonetheless, the constant engaging with others, while truly a number one priority for me (as relationships are more important than anything else on this planet), it is very tiring. Sixth, the polarization of American politics since we left the first time is incredible. And a little scary. So many are completely consumed with the politics of the nation that they miss the bigger picture of respecting and honoring one another. I know there’s a lot to be concerned about and I’m privileged to live in a nation where we have the ability to voice these concerns. But I’m not more interested in what Obama is doing wrong than I am with what God is doing right all over this planet. Seventh, people change. I’m a different person than I was when I left. Life experiences have sobered an already melancholy person. My loved ones here are different too. My friends and family have experienced life’s issues while I’ve been gone. And we can’t come together and slip right into the way things were. And that’s hard. Eighth, when you’ve been giving giving giving giving for two years straight, its hard to not slip into “what’s mine is mine and I’m getting mine!” mentality when you have a break in the work of giving. Its not helping anybody, including myself, to be that way. Ninth, I'm simultaneously wanting to be here AND there. Alone AND with friends. Giving AND receiving. Mourning AND enjoying. Moving AND being still.

So, there’s a few of my preliminary guesses at maybe why I’m feeling the way I do. None of it earth shattering. Hence the mystery that is furlough.