Thursday, April 12, 2012


"We live in foreign country!" David exclaimed on the way home from prayer this morning.

Every now and then we still feel amazed by this strange life that we live.

"Funny thing is," I replied, looking up towards the donjon, "it doesn't feel foreign anymore. It feels like home. I am afraid that when we go back to the States, I won't fit in. But I don't fit in here either."

David took my hand. He held it up to his mouth, kissed it, and said,"I guess we'll be misfits for the rest of our lives."


I was reminded of an illustration that was given to us during our pre-field training. Imagine that Americans are shaped liked squares and French are shaped like circles. After living in this culture for a while, our American corners get cut off, and we end up looking like an octagon--which is neither a square nor a circle, but a shape all its own. It will never be a square again, yet, it can never become a perfect circle either. Among both squares and circles, it is a misfit; yet; it has a deep understanding of both squares and circles.

In both places, I am far from home; yet, both are places that I call "home."

It is a blessed thing to be a octagon. Bitter-sweet. But I wouldn't have it any other way.


  1. I remember thinking after this lesson, "Am I really willing to give up being normal?" I know that after living in a foreign country nothing will seem normal. It is refreshing to be reminded that we do have our families to be "misfits" with. It is encouraging to know that we are not in it alone!