Reverse culture shock is a fleeting and fascinating thing. Just for a little while, I get to see my country from an outside perspective…just until my brain accepts the fact that I’ve arrived at the other normal.
At first, I am taken by all sorts of random ordinary facts. Like eating perfect bananas, walking under tall trees, and seeing ridiculously quaint buildings under a pastel sky with clouds. Single family homes …with yards. A real English-language library, for free. The extra dark far-from-city night with its extra bright stars. Over-enormous shopping centers, and dust-free cars. I find I miss hearing Hebrew, I need sun like I’m a solar panel — and after a long brown summer, I can’t stop exclaiming over the green. I see it and smell it and bask in the refreshment it brings to my spirit.
Yes, I’m home for a wee while, and already I’ve hit five states and seen five of my long longed-for siblings. I’ve beachcombed and sight-seen, and subbed in at a greenmarket selling maple syrup. I’ve seen the maple farm, wrangled kittens, made challah and hummus and buttermilk biscuits, played Skipbo, and exchanged virtual conversations for real ones with many of the folks I love best in the world.
Each morning I wake up one flight of stairs away from my grandma and know that it’s because God hears and answers prayer. Because He sees and He knows and He loves.
Elisabeth Adams 