A year ago we were living in Alabama, preparing to move to Japan. I was home most of the time with Sam, and Arthur spent his days meeting with pastors and sending emails from coffee shops. We lived down the street from my parents, and Sam had a consistent group of little playmates at our Bible study.
Last September, we uprooted from everything that was familiar in his little world. Even his Mommy and Daddy seemed different. We were so tired. Everything was new. Tempers were short. Tears were frequent.
It's hard to understand culture shock, and even harder to explain it. Imagine trying to do that with a vocabulary limited to things like trucks, balls, animal sounds, and the names of your favorite people, most of whom you don't see any more except on the computer. Imagine the confusion of jet lag and waking up every afternoon to find Mommy gone at school. Imagine wondering why everything is so different: food, smells, sounds, the way people talk.
Sam was really panicky for a long time, it seemed. He would cry when one of us left the room, even if he was in the other parent's arms. He started waking up at night again. He would melt down when someone new approached him or came into our home.
It's hard to describe how different he is now. He seems secure, he rests well and long, and he enjoys making friends. He gets excited about lots of Japanese foods, he smiles and laughs a lot, he chatters constantly in a mixture of mostly English with Japanese phrases and sounds mixed in. He is such a joy to be around.
We've been in Japan for just under six months, but that's already a quarter of Sam's little life. His resilience has astounded us and is the answer to many prayers. There were times that I questioned our call and the cost. "What have I done to my son? Is it worth putting him through this trauma? Will he be okay?" Yet God has answered with a resounding "I am faithful." I look at the gift we are giving him by raising him in another culture.... the opportunity to grow up with a broader view of the world, to learn language and culture without realizing it, to see God at work on the front lines instead of only hearing stories from afar.
Looking back, I see God's faithfulness and tender care both for our little boy and for us as his parents. I am thankful for my wiggly little bear and the toddler he has become. I am excited to grow with him in the context God has for us. I look ahead and have hope because our God is faithful and his grace is sufficient for the task.