Somehow, in the midst of giving birth to an amazing little girl, I forgot to share this post that I wrote for Velvet Ashes. It was published on Haven Nura‘s birthday, so I was remiss in sharing and commenting, but in light of yesterday’s post, I thought it might be an encouragement to yet again draw on the steadfast, full-capacity love of the Father when I don’t have quite enough.
“I moved to Iraq and put on the pounds, for sure!” I’ve tried this joke on a few people, and no one seems to quite get it. People always talk about how diet changes when you move or go on home-leave. But, moving overseas at five and a half months pregnant will also play a role in the weight gain situation. Oh, well. Comedy was not my calling.
All that to say, getting smaller is not on my mind a whole lot these days as I waddle around and hoist my belly in and out of cars. But, after two months in to our second overseas move, I do find myself sometimes feeling small when it comes to culture and work.
When you move overseas, it is generally in either love for the people or obedience to God. Most people don’t move overseas just for the novelty, or if they do, they don’t stay for that. Because novelty wears off and culture can get really hard. Culture can make you feel really small. Culture can threaten that love and obedience in a way that not much else can.
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