One Year In: A Review

Never in my wildest imaginations could I have dreamed up what this year held for both me and my family.

We left New Zealand with the excitement and optimism that comes from having waited for that departure for close to three years. As we said our goodbyes to family and friends, I tucked away the sadness to unpack later, and I purposefully faced forward with expectancy. And what an adventure it’s been!

Over the course of the year, those things I had packed away for later slowly came to the surface, both literally and figuratively. Thankfully, some of the preparation beforehand meant we were partially prepared, and we’re very grateful for the people who spoke into our lives right before we left. But there have also been a lot of things learned along the way, and I’d love to share some of those with you today.

Here are 5 of the key things I learned this year.

1. Homesickness was not so much missing a place as it was missing the way I was known so fully by a few.

I love my country, and I love the worldview it gives us coming from somewhere so beautiful and so small. I do dream of the ocean and the beautiful lakes, and I get hit with waves of sadness some days when thinking of the endless blue that I haven’t seen in a long while. But, to be honest I was expecting that when we decided to move to a landlocked country with the nearest ocean 5 hours away.

What I wasn’t expecting was how much I’d miss being known so deeply by those closest to me back home. I love my NZ friends. I spent close to 13 years building up relationships in Hamilton and had a few good friendships from before that as well. These people knew me within my culture, within my context. And being known in that way is so subconscious when living in your own country that it barely registers. But there was a deep loss when splitting from all that in the space of a few hours. And it didn’t hit for a solid 9 months. Well, maybe it did, but I didn’t recognise it and name it as such until 9 months in.

The thing that made it hit harder was that these new experiences in this new land continue to lead me on a path away from the very friends who know me best. It’s a hard sacrifice. But a beautiful part of this is the deep gratitude I have for the people who have been able to walk with us from afar, and also for these new beautiful friendships that are slowly developing here.

2. Our emergency response to new situations is a powerful impulse that shouldn’t be underestimated.

We have an inbuilt response to being thrown into a new situation. It’s a response that looks for security, food, and shelter, just to name the big ones. Our personality types give different weights to these main needs, but they’re there. When we first moved here, and while I was in that headspace, I made decisions that would have been different if I had been back in my normal environment with my safe spaces. I felt like I was a teenager again, the crazy mood swings, the scratching out stability from the people around me, the forming quick and fast friendships. The difficult thing about this one is that there is no way to sidestep this. It just is what it is. But by acknowledging that I was (and sometimes still am) in this stress response situation, I hope I’m quicker to acknowledge when my decisions are less than straight.

3. Kids are unbelievably adaptable, but they’re susceptible to the stress and instability of the ones they trust most.

My five-year-old daughter was four when we moved here. She’s an extremely adaptable kid and had already gone through a lot of changes in the time leading up to our departure. But this was another level, even for the most adaptable child. She was leaving behind grandparents, cousins, uncles and aunties, friends, and familiar locations. It was a massive change, but she did it with a great deal of adaptability and grace.

What I wasn’t expecting was how much of a sponge she was when it came to our homelife and the stresses we were displaying as her parents. See, she could fit right in and find new playgrounds and make new friendships (eventually) but the biggest impact was that home was markedly more stressful for a while. My husband and I are polar opposites in absolutely everything and moving to the other side of the world just put a magnifying glass up to all the ways that we are different, and sometimes that came out in the form of very loud and very stressful disagreements in front of our daughter.

If I could redo it again, I would work harder to make sure that we protected her from that a little more. I wouldn’t remove it all, because I’m also of the mind that kids need to see the real work behind a marriage. But I would have tried to give her a little more stability and kept our stress to ourselves as much as possible. Our kids deserve to feel that they have a safe space with peace, especially in the midst of so much change and stress.

4. Weaknesses hit harder, but new strength is also found.

Here’s something that may be a little unsettling: all the things I thought I had previously faced up to and fought to get rid of were still there underneath the surface, just way down deep. It was like a whole new excavation level on the soil of my heart. And I was mortified by the stuff that I found were still creeping around under there. To make it even harder, this ugly side was sometimes very visible to the new people in my life. But when faced head on, those weaknesses can make way for a deeper strength, the strength necessary to get the spade good and properly underneath the rot and scoop it out. For me, it was leaning into God and being thankful that at least one of us had known this was going to happen. Because he’s so constant, it gave me the strength I needed when everything else was falling apart.

5. Advice: Remain open and vulnerable.

Gosh, this one hurts. But life is not meant to be lived behind a big wall of protection. When all the instincts for stability and protection kick in, the first thing the heart does when it sees danger is bend down to pick up a brick and start building a wall. But the very thing we do to protect ourselves will later be found to just be a hardening of our heart. So my advice? When possible, choose not to build the wall. Risk a bit of pain and damage and heartbreak. Sometimes that damage control is good, so don’t let me talk you into danger. But let me speak into your life a little, don’t let it be the first and only thing your heart does, because in this first year your heart might not be right 100% of the time. Mentally lay that brick down and choose to remain open and vulnerable.

So, my friends. thank you for your support over the last year. Every time you read these blogs, or messaged us we felt so supported and loved. So thank you. And here’s to the next 365 days!