Culture Shock - The New "Normal"

It hit last weekend. That's how it always gets me. It's not so much a gradual process, I guess they wouldn't call it "Shock" if it were. But it hit me last weekend.

Culture shock to me isn't experiencing the differences between cultures. I think anyone with some level of 'cultural elasticity' can experience and process the differences between Culture A, or their "home" culture, and Culture B, the foreign culture they are in. I've traveled to over 20 countries now. I've laughed at bathroom door signs, marveled at driving on the left (i.e. wrong) side of the road, eaten things that would make a hotdog factory blush. I've seen the riches of Paris, the slums of Haiti, and while they all elicited an mental and emotional response, I still wouldn't say that it was the dreaded shock that I hear so much about.

The shock comes later. It sneaks up on you as your elasticity wears down. Your elasticity is the honeymoon period after you get married. Those first few months are great. Sure he's different, but he's fun different right? Life's an adventure right? But.....then again, what's with picking his toe nails while watching TV, and speaking of TV, I don't mind the commercials, but nooooo, Commander Remote-Control over there is trying to watch three shows at once, gosh that's so annoying. Who knew guys were so stinky, forget car emissions, I think he's personally responsible for global warming. 

Simply put, your cultures are different, and you're built to prefer your 'normal'. You start out nice and all, and your cultural elasticity is in full-effect, but soon the conversations change from your romantic future, to a realization that he smells worse than you thought, and your apple pie is like 'ashes in his mouth' compared to his moms. But you know what, you get through it, and slowly you develop your 'new normal'.

It hit me last week. The real culture shock. It's that moment when your elasticity is tired. Your emotions and mind have the following conversation:

Emotions: Wow, this has been fun.

Mind: Yep.

Emotions: I think I'm ready to go now.

Mind: Really?

Emotions: Yeah, I would kinda like to go home (culture A), I miss the house, our friends, my office. I miss monday morning staff meetings, my cublicle, my leather desk chair. I'm ready to be able to go, to understand, to communicate, to be near family, to go to our home church, to celebrate holiday's, to cuddle our dog, eat a Chick-Fil-A sandwich, see a movie without subtitles, yada yada yada.

Mind: Sounds great.

Emotions: Yeah, don't get me wrong, it's been great, but I'm ready to go.

Mind: Too bad, you live here now.

And that's the shock.

Please don't misunderstand me. It's not a commentary on this country we live in, our calling, or even culture B. It has nothing to do with the fact that we love Hungary, and even if we weren't here as missionaries, I'd strongly consider just living and working here. But there simply the point where your body flips a switch and says, "I'm ready to go home now." Except this is your home. You're not on vacation. You're not going anywhere.

So what's the cure. Well....it's the same cure as it was for dirty socks under the bed, and the burnt dinner last night. Simply, it's commitment. It's time. It's pushing through to the other side, when it's not simply Culture A vs. Culture B, but rather Culture AB. When assimilation occurs and you find that while you love your friends, family, tastes of home, etc, you find close friends as we have, favorite foods as we have, and even those who feel like family. While you'll never be fully Culture B, assimilation to a certain extent is a must. Otherwise you will always live in culture shock, a nomadic emotional waste-land where you constantly pine for what you can't have. That's no way to live at all, and will simply burn out.

So we chose to push on through to the other side. Why? Because we're committed, we believe in what we're doing, and we will see it through. Our family will become Culture AB, loving home, but making a home in Hungary.

Settling Into Home

When traveling internationally with three children and 14 bags, I kept telling myself that once I made it to my seat on the Boeing 777 aircraft, it would all be downhill from there. My former boss, current friend, mentor, and all around good guy, Tommy, had dropped our troop off at the curb and I was pretty pumped when the Delta lady suggested we just check in curbside for a small tip. 

I thought things were going well until she mentioned that the extra baggage fees were quite a bit more than we had thought. $800 lighter, and a little annoyed, we made our way to security, said our sad goodbyes, and settled into our gate area waiting for our flight to board. A quick sandwich, a tearful protest from Noémi, who refused to get off the moving walkway, and we finally were relieved to hear that boarding was commencing. I was closing in on that seat.

About 8 hours later we were hurdling 500 miles an hour in the aluminum aircraft at about 38,000 feet, and I felt pretty good. Noémi had been crying with Corinne for about an hour, and I finally offered her a bit of respite and took our two year old to sit with me in the row ahead. You can imagine how please with myself I was when she quickly fell asleep and I'm confident that Corinne probably sighed something about me being the child whisperer, or something like that. I was smug in my fatherly prowess.

Then Noémi vomited all over me.

So I found myself standing in the tiny airplane bathroom washing my clothing in the sink before putting the wet jeans and dress shirt back on, realizing the extent of this grand adventure. These are the moments that we as missionaries look back on and laugh...or at least I think I will.

Now we have been here a few weeks, settled into our flat, even done a little car shopping. Finding something clean that seats 5 comfortably on our budget has been a battle, but I'm confident it exists. The physical things don't scare me, those things will be worked out in time. Those are the easy things. We know what to expect, we've dealt with the culture shock, we know our way around....this isn't our first rodeo.

It's the emotional parts of setting up a new life in a foreign place that wear me out. It's little things like Noémi asking if we can go to Papaw Pious' (Mathias) house. It's Grant repeatedly telling us how much he misses his friends, and how badly he wants to go to school. We have been looking at homeschooling him to save money, I don't really have the heart to drop that on him yet. Carter looked at me our second day here and said, "Dad, I didn't want to come here, I wanted to stay in Indiana and keep Milo and see our family." (We gave away our Milo the Boston Terrier before moving here.)

When I hear these little things it hurts. After Carter's comment I literally went into my bathroom and teared up. I know those feelings all too well. I remember saying goodbye. Goodbye to friends, goodbye to family, goodbye to pets who snuggled us all night in our beds. I know that hurt, and a part of me hates that they now know it too. Even while writing this I feel that familiar pang.

Missionaries aren't "normal". Most careers don't completely uproot your family to this extent, but we remain convinced that this is God's direction for us, and I know He loves our children more than we possibly could. Looking back now, I don't regret growing up an MK for a minute. Someday I trust that they will feel the same.

After two weeks I feel blessed. We are surrounded by many Hungarians who care about us. Catching up with friends from our first term has been cathartic and I know that in time these tough feelings will fade, as in time, this will be home again. 

Yesterday as we got out of the van in front of our building, Noémi looked up at our flat and said, "Home! Dis our home." It was one of those moments I felt like God's was saying, "It's going to be alright." 

So now the kids are asleep in their beds, Corinne is in the living room and I'm in the office writing this long overdue blog update. The warm glow of the desk lamp illuminates the room. Yes sweetie, this is our home.

In the coming years we hope to write our life and all that God does through us here. We invite you dear reader to join us as we follow God on this grand adventure.

-Jonathan 

Ready for Takeoff

The first international move that I can remember was coming home from Colombia. In those days everything was packed into steel barrels and sealed for transport. Come to think of it, I recall that those steel barrels never made it to Kentucky and we kinda had to start over, but I still remember packing them.

Everything changed with a simple flight. The culture changed, the language changed, our house, bed, toys, changed. Mom and Dad's job's and schedule's changed. It was quite a lot to take in. Everything was new and different.

Perhaps this is the reason why, as an adult, I still thrive on change. Variety is the spice of life they say, so I guess being a missionary seems a natural fit. As we prepare for our jump to Hungary, I thought I would take this blog post and catch you up on where things stand. I realize that our last post was 2 months ago, so I will try and catch you up with the latest in the form of 3 quick updates.

1. We have leased a flat and we are returning to Hungary on April 10th. 

It's kinda funny that in our entire time in Hungary, we have only looked at three flats, and leased two of them. In our first term, we leased the first place we looked at, as we felt instantly after walking through the doors, that this was where God wanted us. 

During our last trip to Hungary, the first place we looked at was clearly not the right fit for our family, but after looking at just the second place on our list, Corinne and I again knew that we had found 'home'. A place for ministry, space for guests, and a yard for the kids. Amazingly, it's about two blocks from where OMS first started in Hungary. The above picture is our building and we have the top floor and attic space. The value we got was astounding and we are truly praising God for it.

2.  OMS has asked me to assume responsibilities as Field Director when we return.  

 God has placed a vision in my heart for church planting and training of local leaders and pastors. I believe that we can plant churches and equip existing churches to better reach their communities.  We have connections with several churches including some of the major denominations in Hungary that have asked for help. We have a building that we purchased to be renovated into a training center. God is preparing a good work for us to do.

3.  We're almost funded.

As missionaries, fund raising is a constant, but there is a point where you have to go. We have felt that we needed to be in Hungary by April, and we are going to meet that goal. We're only slightly short in faith promise pledges, but we're confident that God is going to provide for our needs.

In the coming months, I believe that we will fill this blog with stories of God's faithfulness and power in Hungary. As we prepare to 'take-off' please be praying for our ministry. Pray that God would empower us to share the gospel effectively. That he would work in advance to create divine appointments for us. Ask him to provide all we need to stay and minister effectively.

Thank you for being a part of the team. 

God Bless,

Jonathan

These are the categories of our lives…

New Year’s often comes the saying “out with the old, in with the new.” In years past, the New Year has prompted us to clean out the closets and throw or give away the old toys and clothes to make room for the many new items we received under the Christmas tree just a week prior. This year has been no exception - but this year it is also for a different purpose.

As our family prepares to return to Hungary, we are faced with the task of determining what items and possessions will make the trek across the world to our new home. The first time we went to Hungary, this task was a longer process for us as we moved in with family and travelled many months fundraising before we moved. This go around, we have been living in an OMS rental home for the last 18 months and a church parish for 6 months prior to that. 

Thanks to family and friends (and craigslist) we have pieced together a comfortable living space with furniture and all the necessities…plus a few wanted items to personalize our space.  But now, with the target of an April move, we are once again facing the five S’s of moving overseas:

Sorting, Storing, Selling, Saving, & Shipping

We sort through every possession and must decide –

Do we store it? - Do we keep this? Does this have use later (perhaps during a furlough)? Is this too expensive to replace should we find ourselves in the US again? Will it fit in our storage crate?

Do we sell it? – Does someone want this? Would someone buy this? Can we sell a few things to help our house fund for Hungary?

Do we save it? – Does this hold a memory? Do we want to save this? Do we need to keep this for our children? Will we wish we kept this someday?

Do we ship it? - Do we need this? Do we take this to Hungary? Does it take part of a valuable corner of luggage space? Can we buy this when we get there?

You might think this process would get easier over time – and in some ways it has. Our value system has shifted a bit and our once sentimental sides have become slightly less attached to every knick-knack once lying around the house. We have come to recognize that “things” really are just “things” and can fairly easily be replaced. It also becomes harder in some ways as we realize the family photo albums will go back into a box and the beloved children’s drawings that line the refrigerator door will not be carried on to our new home. It’s freeing and overwhelming and stressful and releasing all wrapped into a few monumental weeks of packing chaos. This time around our kids are older and understand more that they too must choose to leave behind some of their favorite things. That all of their toys won’t make the cut and the soccer trophies will go into a memory box for future enjoyment. It is a time of sacrifice that the missionary family must face with each and every move. And it reminds us, that this earth really isn’t our home. That the things we store up here are only temporary and will not last for eternity.  

Thoughts on Christmas Past, Present, Future.

The first Christmas I can remember took place in Colombia in 1983. I think it was 1983, I can’t remember exactly because this was the year that my parents, in their infinite wisdom, gave my brother (6 years older, by the way) a set of boxing gloves, thereby subjecting me to a series of mind-numbing beatings. Now that I think about it, it’s really a miracle I can remember anything at all.

In 1987 I recall that the vast majority of my gifts were apparently purchased at a travel plaza. Eighty percent of my presents had a shell gasoline logo on them. Didn’t matter to me though, that truck and trailer combo were pretty cool. That was also the same year we got a VCR, which basically allowed me to tape my favorite show, Air Wolf. Until that time I had never seen an episode all the way through since the show ran from 7-8 and bedtime was 7:30. This wasn’t the first year that I was to receive branded swag.

In 1991, I received a slick duffle bag and a football shaped telephone. The duffle bag was green with the Quaker State Oil logo on the side. Apparently my father received said bag for purchasing two cases of motor oil. The football phone, in case you forgot, came with a Sports Illustrated subscription, which I suspect was my brothers gift that year.

If you look on my bookshelf you’ll find a book that is perhaps my second most treasured book behind my Bible. On the inside of the hardcover the following is written:

The book was entitled “Eclipse of the Crescent Moon” by Geza Gardonyi. It was our Christmas in Hungary and my parents had purchased me a copy of the famous Hungarian novel based on real characters and events in Hungarian history. This book spawned my love affair with Hungarian history and laid the groundwork for the passion that God inspired in me for Hungary. As far as Christmas gifts go, it’s probably had the most profound effect on me of anything I’ve received. Not bad for $15.99.

I give my parents a little teasing about growing up without traditions and constant change. Our presents weren’t the most expensive name brand item, and some were ‘complimentary’, but we never doubted the love that was behind them.

This year I sat in my in-laws living room thinking about the fact that my children are now the MK’s. They’re living the life that I lived. I hope that they can avoid some of the struggles that I had. Perhaps the fact that I was an MK gives me a little more in common with my kids than most parents.

I was a lucky kid growing up as an MK. I saw and experienced life in a way that many never will. I never bought into that, ‘poor me’ garbage because we traveled around or didn't have a standard American Christmas. Christmas isn't American anyway.

I think my kids are pretty lucky too. Not because they have the greatest dad or anything, I don’t own a mug making such a claim. But my kids know that regardless of the place, the traditions, the change, or the gifts, that have a mom and dad who love the Lord and are serving him, and we love them more than anything else. As a father it’s my goal that they experience the best of being an MK, and I’ll do my best to limit the rough spots.

So next year, we celebrate Christmas back in Hungary. Christmas 2014 will find our family sitting around the tree, more than likely plastic, forging our own traditions in a land far from ‘home’. We’ll have hot cider, sing a few songs, and then presents. I don’t know yet what those will be. I haven’t seen a football phone in years. Now that I think about it, maybe Carter would like a copy of “Eclipse of the Crescent Moon”, or perhaps I’ll just let him read mine.

The Sound of Silence

Have you ever just listened? I mean really listened?

I’m not talking about how we listen to the TV or the radio, or how we men exercise great listening skills when our wives need to share about something important (you do that right?). I’m talking about shutting it all off, turning your phone off, turning the TV off, no computer, nobody speaking, no distractions.

Yesterday in chapel, our speaker decided that we should take 5 minutes in this kind of environment. What’s 5 minutes right….well, when you’re just sitting in a chair with your eyes closed, not moving, not fidgeting, just simply being silent….it seems a little longer.

Here are my observations from our silent time.

“Wow, five minutes is a long time.”

“Is that the air conditioning or a water pipe, sounds like water running through a pipe.”

“The dishwasher in the staff kitchen is running.”

“How loud is that clock?! Seriously, how on earth do we have chapel in here with a minute hand CLICK, CLICK, CLICK’n away like that?!”

“Wow, do I normally breathe that loud? Everybody must be hearing me breathe.”

After five minutes of silence, a thought struck me. Why is it that I have never heard any of these things before, despite spending countless hours in this room? Seriously, I have been here before for hundreds of events and I have never once heard the clock, the dishwasher, or the water pipe. I didn’t realize I breathe so loudly, or that the person sitting in front of me did as well.

I realized that there is a whole world of sounds that I never hear, because I’m not listening for them. I’m simply too noisy to hear them, and all these sounds go unheard. My ears are turned off to the clock on the wall, the dishwasher, etc….in the same way that when I go to visit family in KY, I no longer hear the train roaring by despite the fact that it does so regularly and just down the road. I’ve tuned it out.

Then a thought occurred to me. Have I tuned out God?

I’m serious, I confess to complaining that I haven’t heard His voice lately. At times I really need to know what to do and He’s silent, and I have expressed my frustration to others. “IF God would just speak, I’d go in that direction, but He’s not saying anything!”

Perhaps God is saying something, but I’m not listening. There among the clock on the wall, the dishwasher and that water pipe is a still, small voice, and I am simply being too loud.

It’s not New Years, but I’ve made a new resolution and today I found myself in our small chapel upstairs. Why? Just to listen. And sure enough my old friends came back to me. There was a familiar clock on the wall, the water pipe humming, and the sound of the dishwasher was replaced with the muted conversations of those on the other side of the wall. And there was the still, small voice, a quiet whisper.

“Do not be afraid.”

Frequent Flyer

“Sir can you help us?”

I looked up from my boarding pass to identify the person who made the request. I had just stepped aboard my airline flight and was checking my seat assignment one more time before making my way down the aisle.

“Excuse me,” I replied. “Are you talking to me?”

“Yes sir,” a flight attendant said and moved slightly to reveal a woman standing behind her in the entrance of the aircraft. The woman was in her mid-60’s with shoulder length gray hair and a thin face that revealed concern and bewilderment. Her hand tightly gripped the handle of her carry-on suitcase.

“Do you fly a lot sir,” the flight attendant inquired. I replied that I did. “Would you be willing to help this lady to get situated?” “I’d be happy to,” I quickly answered.

As I turned and headed down the aisle with my new companion in tow, my first thought was, “Don’t they employ flight attendants to do this?” I asked for her seat number and discovered she was sitting behind me. We made our way down the aisle to her row. I helped stow her bag and get situated in her seat. It was then that our conversation began.

Over the next ten minutes or so as we waited for our fellow passengers to board, I learned that despite being in her 60’s this was her first time ever on an airplane. She told me that she knew it was safe, but she had always been afraid of flying and even confessed she had been crying at the gate before boarding.  After entering the plane she began to panic a little, and since there wasn’t another flight attendant around, the woman who had greeted her offered to find someone to help her….me.

What stuck with me from our conversation was a statement she made after sharing about her children and grandchildren in Atlanta. She said, “I guess I just have to want to see my grandkids more than I want to get off this airplane.”

A few days later I was recalling our conversation and realized how there are parallels between this woman’s fear of flying and our life in missions.

Preparing to move overseas presents a thousand questions in our minds. Not questions like, “Does God want us to go?” But seemingly more trivial ones like, “Where will we live?”, “who will our children play with?” or “Can we raise the all the financial support that we need?”  Don’t get me wrong, we are trusting God for our future, but we still do sometimes feel the stress of worry.

So much of our lives during these transitions seem up in the air. And as scary as it is, I think about the statement the lady shared with me and how it applies it to our own lives.

“We just want to see churches planted and growing more 
than being ‘home for the holidays.’”

“We just want to see lives transformed more than my kids growing 

up in America and playing American football.”

“We just want to share hope with young people more than we want 

the security of a paycheck and 401k”

“We just have to want God’s will, more than our own.”

So with that in mind we grip our bags tightly, we take a step onto the metaphorical plane, and we choose to want Him more than we want the trappings this life has to offer.

Hello...hello...is anybody out there?

The last few weeks (months really), Jonathan and I have been discussing the state of our blog. We realize (quite shamefully) that we have not posted a blog for literally almost a year. The truth is that blogging isn’t just a fun way to share our lives, but that it really can be a chore. It requires discipline to post regularly. It requires effort to market and tell everyone how he or she should be reading our blog (and subsequently supporting our ministry). It requires (in my case, at least) inspiration and motivation to jot down my random thoughts into a cohesive article. And it requires that we actually have something important to say (well, maybe that’s not required for all the blogging world, but for us…we prefer it be the case).

And truthfully, the last year has been kind of a holding pattern for us. Oh, we’ve been busy. We’ve been working. And we’ve been making a difference for the kingdom (that’s our prayer, anyway)…but we really haven’t been doing the very thing that we want to do, or maybe even feel called to do. That fact coupled with all the aforementioned responsibilities means that we have failed to keep you informed. We have felt lackluster in our desire to write and share and post what’s going on, because frankly, our day-to-day life just isn’t that exciting.

Jonathan has been busy completing the learning platform for the Leadership Initiative project. OMS University (or OMSU) is starting to come together as he finalizes the production of training modules for use around the world by OMS missionaries and partners. I (Corinne) have been working faithfully with ECC (Every Community for Christ) providing financial administration and budget oversight.  In addition to my work responsibilities, I homeschool Carter (who is in the 2^nd grade) and care for Noemi (who just turned 19 months) and Grant. Grant has been working through his therapists to develop those areas identified as delayed skills and progressing in the areas where we have seen deficits. He attends preschool three days a week to work on those things. The kids are all growing, learning and flourishing (as you would expect).

But all those things are not why you have come here. It’s (probably) not why you began supporting our ministry or following our blog. Many of you, if not all of you, jumped on this train back when we first started telling you about a place called Hungary. A little country in central Europe that called out to us and captured our hearts. God saw fit to draw us there and He somehow drew you to us and to our ministry.  And we can finally say with some relief that He is drawing us back. We don’t have all the details worked out, but God is slowly opening the door for us to return to our first love. We have a lot to do and some money to raise, but in early 2014 we will go again to reach Hungarians for Christ.

You may have gotten bored with us, or with our blog. You may not really know what we’ve been doing or why we’ve been doing it.  But we thank you. For your support. For your prayers. For your steadfast patience. Because we’re not done yet. And we hope you’re still out there.

Baby Steps on the Plane

I'm assuming that the people who read this blog most likely also receive our newsletter. For those of you who haven't seen it yet, this last issue of the Long Lifeline announced plans to eventually return to Hungary and continue ministry.

The last two years have been rough ones for us, but at the end of the day one truth remains; the passion, the same passion that I came out of the shower with 8 years ago is still there. In all honesty there are a lot of questions that have to be answered, plans that have to be ironed out, doors that have to be opened, but at the end of the day the objective remains the same. We plan on returning to Hungary.

The how's and when's still have to be precisely worked out for two reasons:
   1.  Grant hasn't yet reached all of his milestones for therapy. He is doing very well and the therapists seem        
        please with his progress, but he still has to finish strong.
   2.  I promised OMS that I would see this project in leadership development through to the end, and I need
        to honor that commitment. So I continue putting together the program.

The other side of returning is funding. Honestly we did lost a substantial amount of support when we returned from Hungary. Most of it was policy related and not personally, we understand that, but most people don't just save your place in line when it comes to support. There are other great missionaries with great opportunities, so our support has already been re-pledged to others.

All of the financial pieces really bring into focus the idea of tent-making. In some ways this would be ideal, working to supplant part of our support. But at the same time, there are drawbacks there as well. Knowing which route to take is really one of trusting God and allowing him to open the right door. Regardless, we don't doubt the destination. The time frame and support, our son's needs, all of these things while they remain a little hazy will be worked out in the right time. We're hoping around a year, but that timing is unknown completely for now.

Thank you dear reader, for being a part of this journey, you are more important than you know.

God Bless,
Jonathan

Happenings...

As missionaries one of the biggest challenges for us personally has been in leaving behind the life of perceived financial security and stepping out in faith for our support. It really has been a blessing though as God has taught us much about trusting and relying on Him. Our faith has been expanded by all the little miracles and ways that God has provided.

There are many different ways in which missionaries raise their support and it's great that we have many tools in the toolbox for sharing God's direction in our lives and the important visions that he's laid on our hearts. I think though that the greatest lesson I've learned through deputation has been that deputation IS ministry. Traveling with 3 kids can wear you out, logging so many miles on our van can really kill your resale value, but  I can't tell you how many times we've been blessed and encouraged through the opportunities we've had to share at churches.

We've been traveling a lot lately and in the last 2 1/2 months I've spent 30 days in the Pennsylvania and New York region casting visions and asking the Lord to raise up our support. But during this time we've met amazing people that have been blessed as we have by sharing with them. We've shared with youth and young adults about missions and have heard back reports of kids still talking about our time with them. I had the opportunity to laugh, share, and even cry with people in PA. I was able to cast a vision for missions in NY. While we are raising support to continue our ministry at home and abroad, we appreciate how God uses this time of deputation to minister not only to us, but those whom we speak to. 

Fund raising IS ministry.

This next year we have to raise more support and will continue to travel and share to groups from one to a thousand about the tremendous ways God is leading us. Please pray for us as we travel that we would be safe and that He would speak through us. If God may be calling you to support our ministry through faith promise, please drop us an email at long4hungary@aol.com.

Onward and Upward,

The Longs