Maybe it feels like a glorious homecoming, or maybe it feels like you just had your world yanked out from under you. Maybe you’re excited to worship in your heart language again; maybe you’re deeply missing the beauty and colors of the global church. Or maybe you’re thinking and feeling all these things at the same time. That’s normal.

In this short letter, I hope to validate your experience, give some structure for the journey, and uncover a little bit of hope. This letter (and this experience) might get harder before it gets better, but know that it can get better. It can get so much better, with post-re-entry growth and joy and immense amounts of gratefulness for God's faithfulness all along the way.

All that being said, re-entry is probably going to be hard. Some of the hard will be expected and you’ll feel prepared and equipped for it, but some of the hard may come from unexpected quarters. It might shock you, feeling like body blows to the soul. You’ll survive it, but there might be times when you cry. A lot.

My wife cried for a year when COVID upended our lives, and we realized our furlough in the US was morphing into an unexpected repatriation after eight years in Cambodia. We lost everything, or at least that’s what it felt like. Our kids didn’t get to say goodbye to people or place. Our last week in Cambodia was in self-imposed quarantine, hoping no one would catch a fever before we could catch our flights. Sure, we were grateful to be alive and well when so many people were getting sick and dying all over the world, but we were still hurting. And we still had absolutely no idea what life back in the Midwest was supposed to look like.

To be honest, it felt like a leaden curtain was descending over the entire horizon, blotting out hope and the sun. And oh, how America and the church had changed since we left! It felt like “The End.” Maybe that sounds dramatic, but that’s just because it felt dramatic. Feelings often get dramatic in re-entry.

We were in good company. Elisabeth Elliot experienced a hard landing during her re-entry to the States after 12 years in Ecuador. The America she entered was not the America she left, and neither was the church.1 She floun-dered, she got angry, she felt pigeonholed and marginalized. She felt like the stories she wanted to tell were not welcome, and the part churches wanted her to play (the “Missionary Hero”) was not really the part she wanted to play. But she found her way, and so can you.

There is hope. Indeed, there is a bright hope strong enough to crack through the crust of transition trauma. But we’ll get to that later.

For now, the pain and disruption of this transition will probably last longer than you’d like. Remember that doesn’t make you or your loved ones weird; it actually makes you all pretty normal. Bruce Feiler, in his book Life Is in the Transitions, says that recovery from massive transitions (what he calls “lifequakes”) can take up to five years.

Feiler defines lifequakes as “a forceful burst of change in one’s life that leads to a period of upheaval, transition, and renewal.”2 Sometimes lifequakes are chosen (marriage, university, job change), and sometimes they just happen (natural disasters, forced repatriations, an illness). I love the simplicity of how Lev Sviridov (as quoted by Feiler) describes these types of events: He calls them ampersands. Sviridov writes, “You enter in one place, go through an elaborate squiggle, then come out in another.”3 That feels about right.

Feiler’s research also suggests that the average person experiences between three and five lifequakes in their lifetime, implying that the majority of folks are just coming out of a lifequake, are currently in one, or are about to experience one. So then, what can we do during a lifequake—or during a re-entry—to mitigate the pain? To grow? Or at least to not die?

Here are a few ideas for the road of re-entry:

Be Gentle

Allow yourself to mourn and grieve and weep. Allow family members to experience things differently than you do. Embrace lament when you need it. Many people find that re-entering their passport culture after years abroad is harder than their initial move, so be gentle with yourself, your family, and your “new” culture. Rest when you need it.

If at all possible, give yourself time to settle and even enjoy your new place. Do the things tourists would do in your new/old town. There will be a lot of work to do, but it might not all need to be done right now. Slow down where you can, be gentle, and give yourself permission to ease back into things.

Stay Curious

Curiosity activates the frontal lobe of our brain, keeping rational thought and executive function online. These are good things, and during the hard emotional seasons of re-entry, we really do need to integrate as much frontal lobe activity as possible. Additionally, curiosity keeps our minds and hearts open to new things and new people. What is God up to? Who might I meet in this season that could become a good friend? Where am I seeing God’s mercy in this season? Where am I seeing beauty, even here? What opportunities might be opening up to me or my family?

It is hard to be curious and judgmental at the same time, and many returning workers find that harsh judgmentalism is always right around the corner. We need to allow ourselves to grieve, and the grieving process often includes anger. We need to allow ourselves and our families to feel the singe of these losses. We also need to remember that becoming highly critical, cynical, and judgmental will not lead to peace and growth and healing.

Use the Cross-Cultural Skills You Already Have

When you arrived on the field, you knew that you did not know much. You got curious, you asked questions, you looked for a language and culture mentor, you walked in the markets. You can use those exact skills now.

Things have changed while you’ve been away and so have you. You may feel like a hidden immigrant in your passport culture: It looks like you belong, and you can speak without an accent, but something deep inside of you doesn’t seem to fit. This is normal.

Remember, you have a whole host of cross-cultural skills that are extremely valuable right now. Use them. As a trainer said in our pre-field prep many years ago, “We often see strange cultural norms as abnormal, unnatural, wrong, and bad. We need to see them simply as different.” It is helpful to remember that there are parts of every culture that are beautiful and good and even holy, just as there are parts of every culture that are dark and damaging and dishonoring to people and God.

Be Prepared for Some People to Care More Than Others

Some people will want the whole story, and they will set aside hours to sit with you, listen to you, and really hear you. Those folks will want the extended version of the film, along with the actors’ and director’s commentary. But some people will just want the movie-trailer version of your story, or even just the movie poster.

It can be helpful to have these different levels planned out before you start visiting churches or seeing family. I recommend having a three-second version (movie poster), a three-minute version (movie trailer), a 30-minute version (the movie), and a three-hour version (extended edition with commentary). By trying to be discerning about who wants what version, you can avoid the glazed-eye stare of the folks who are not really interested in the whole story, while focusing your time and energy on the folks who really want it all.

Sometimes, who wants what version might surprise you. And sometimes, a person sees the poster or the trailer and then decides they might actually be interested in the full film and/or the director’s cut with commentary! This all takes heaps of grace, but it is worth it.

Access Resources

We live in a day and age teeming with re-entry resources. We’ve got access to articles, books, conferences, retreats, counseling, and so on. The options can be overwhelming, so here are just a few that might be helpful along the way:
--> Books:
o  Returning Well, by Melissa Chaplin
o  Life Is in the Transitions, by Bruce Feiler
o  Navigating the Re-entry Journey:
Trauma-Informed Care for Global Workers in Transition, by Shonna Ingram

--> In-person group debriefing:
o  TRAIN International: www.traininternational.org
o  Mission Training International: www.mti.org/dar
o  Alongside: www.alongsidecares.net

--> Articles:
o  “Leaving and Arriving Well – what to do when your time comes,” by Jonathan Trotter: www.alifeoverseas. com/leaving-and-arriving-well-what-to-do-when-your-time-comes
o  “An Open Letter to Returning Workers and Their Support Networks,” by Shonna Ingram: www. alifeoverseas.com/an-open-letter-to-returning-workers-and-their-support-networks

--> Online “Re-entry Retreat” by Velvet Ashes: www.grow.velvetashes.com/shop/reentry-retreat

--> Counseling:
o  Don’t be afraid to reach out for professional help. If your emotions feel overwhelming and your level of functioning drops for more than a couple of weeks, or if you start having suicidal thoughts, please reach out for local clinical help. Psychology Today’s listing of clinicians can be a good place to start: www. psychologytoday.com/us. Outside of the US, visit www.valeo.global.

Don’t Forget Hope

It’s been nearly six years since we left, and boy has it been a trip. I went back to school to become a counselor, my wife started an editing business, three of our kids started college, and we’ve all found some amazing community. It didn’t happen overnight, but it happened. We resettled and we’re so incredibly grateful.

We lost some things along the way, to be sure; at the same time, we gained so much. This is the paradox of it all. We have tasted the Lord’s goodness in multiple countries now, and we know in our gut that he is faithful to his people no matter what continent they wake up on. His plans are sure and our future is secure, and that security is based not on our geography but on our God. We’ve been there and back again, and the steadfast love of the Lord still endures. His mercies are still new every morning, and his faithfulness still lasts for generations.

As I wrap up this letter to you, the returning one, I would like to offer an Arrival Benediction.4 This is my heart for you as you traverse this wild and unruly land we call re-entry. May the love and peace of the Father be upon you and yours.

An Arrival Benediction

Here’s my prayer for you, a prayer for the middle spaces:
May you arrive more whole than when you departed,
though the intervening time may have been splintering and hard.
May you arrive with more hope than when you left,
though you’ve been in hopeless situations more often than you thought possible.
Perhaps you’ll arrive empty but may those you’ve left behind (there and here),
fill you with the love of the Father, aged and distilled through time and perhaps darkness.
May you arrive with peace, knowing in your gut that he is Good, that he is Faithful, and that he isn’t finished with you (or with them).
May you find rest, safe in the arms of love, behind the Captain of the Lord of Hosts, your Healer.
And may you hear him ask you the same questions he asked a confused and lonely and traveling Hagar, “Where have you come from?” and “Where are you going?” At the end of the day, may you proclaim along with Hagar, “You are the God who sees me.”
And after your arrival,
May you keep your eyes fixed on the horizon, Awaiting the day of all days,
When the sky will split,
The darkness flee, and 
he will, finally and irrevocably, 
Arrive.