“Welcome home!” I heard the words, but they didn’t feel right. I stood wide-eyed. Were we home? The whirlwind of events over the last month darted through my mind. My heart sank, unsure of what to say. “Thank you” was all I could muster.
The word “home” is supposed to bring comfort. We weren’t there yet. We landed in the US just a month earlier after months of packing and a forty-two-hour trek around the globe, toting as many belongings as we could fit in action packers and checked luggage. We were still adjusting to the ten-hour time change, didn’t have our own space, our kids were sharing an air mattress, and we were all living out of suitcases until our rental house was ready.
Looking back, it took several years of living in Lesotho before it felt like home. We didn’t fit into that culture, but we also didn’t fit in in the US anymore. Maybe anywhere. But isn’t that right where God wants us? “Home” is where He wants us to be. No matter where we are, home is where we are together with God.
By about our third year in Lesotho, we were settled. Most things had become comfortable but not necessarily familiar. We adopted a year-round school schedule, providing our kids with a regular routine that only deviated when we were sick, on break, or on vacation.
We built our community, meeting regularly with friends for coffee or meals. We participated in team gatherings and our home church, and my husband attended regular men’s breakfasts. We gave and received love. Conversations went deep, discussing heart issues, morals, and values. Small talk had no place.
Almost a decade had passed since we began living life overseas when the Lord put it on our hearts to consider returning to America. We thought of so many reasons why we shouldn’t. Nothing was pushing us out of Lesotho. We loved the people, our community, the pace of life, and the ministry we were doing. But one thing remained: God was calling us in a new direction.
So we prayed. A lot. We also invited others to pray with us, which was one of the best decisions we made. We yearn for the wisdom and counsel gleaned from the experiences of others who have walked this path before. After bathing the matter in prayer and receiving a great deal of encouragement and counsel regarding repatriation, we felt prepared to return to the US.
The number one thing we learned from the experiences of many others is that getting plugged into a church and building a community can be a challenge. Though we were returning to our “home area,” many of our friends had moved away. So, we knew we would be building a new community from scratch. We wanted to be intentional about finding a church, so we began scouring websites and attending online sermons as we researched churches in the area where we planned to live. Although we were unable to make in-person connections, we still gained a sense of the church environment and its pastors.
We decided we would attend a church with a homeschool co-op near our rental home. Being comfortable with the pastor and his messages allowed us to feel more at ease about committing to that church. The church has proven to be a solid, biblical church, and we have been able to connect with some smaller groups without hesitation, which would have been a concern if we were unsure of which church we wanted to call our home church.
Initially, we wanted to keep a low profile — just be normal and not play the missionary card too early. However, when attending a small church, people know you’re new, and a straightforward question like, “Where are you from?” opens up a whole can of worms. That’s when I also learned that not everyone is fascinated with our life as missionaries.
It’s challenging to reduce a decade of life into a few sentences. We discovered that we would only be able to share our life overseas with a select few people. Thankfully, we have friends who have been on this journey before us, and they have been great at listening to our stories. It can be a struggle to find friends who genuinely want to hear about your life, so it may become necessary to find a counselor or a repatriation mentor who understands.
Developing relationships has been a slow process. Friends meeting regularly is almost unheard of, and creating depth in a relationship seems tantamount to torture for some people. I cherish the few people I’ve found who desire more serious relationships, but my husband and I both long for that one person we can call our “bestie.”
One of the things we looked forward to when coming back was the opportunity to be involved in church and for our kids to participate in sports or other activities. We dove into quite a few church activities. Although we loved the Bible studies, having more than one a week, in addition to youth group and small group, we realized how quickly those activities can fill up our calendar.
Understanding that packed schedules and constantly on-the-go friends are part of the culture, I’ve realized the importance of not only adjusting my expectations but also protecting my own schedule so I would not get wrapped up in the pace myself. That’s when I resolved that our first few years would be our “try and see” years.
A wise counselor once told me that it could take several years to find a rhythm and establish a routine upon returning. I am beginning to see the truth of that statement. Within the first year, we transitioned from full-time homeschooling to homeschooling plus a co-op and then to private school.
With all the transitions and newness, we’ve discovered that our kids, what some would call Third Culture Kids (TCKs), though resilient, are different than most American kids. We’ve had many tearful discussions around the dinner table about what we miss about Lesotho and the struggles we’re facing. Our son was upset one day after a schoolboy laughed at him because he didn’t know what the phrase “cut the cheese” meant. A seemingly minor colloquialism, but to him, it was a stark reminder of not fitting in. It’s important to encourage our kids that it’s okay to be different while still allowing them to express their emotions.
We’ve also had many joyous conversations about what has been good. Being in school has provided both educational challenges and social awakenings for both of our kids. Having the opportunity to connect with other children has made us realize how significant a role their social life will play in their development. They are forging their own paths and developing their own relationships. Some of their uniqueness and quirks will remain intact, while others will fade away.
It will take some time for all of us to adapt as we continue to learn what it means to live in the US. We will prayerfully enter into church ministry, carefully select activities and events, and continue with patience as we develop new relationships. In trying to establish a routine, I’ve learned that the rhythm of life in America seems seasonal — just as we were beginning to feel we had a good rhythm, along came summer break and bored kids!
When the time comes for you to return to your home country, remember to give yourself time and grace. As you research churches in the area where you’ll be living, try to get plugged in earlier rather than later. Also, understand that past friendships will be different, even if you’ve kept in touch. As you’ve lived, grown, and changed during the time you’ve been away, so have they. Even if you have a few friends to reconnect with, you will likely still need to build a new community around you.
And if you have children, check in with them. They are adapting to everything new on an even larger scale. Our kids only knew Africa. America is an entirely different experience. Children need to have a safe space to process their struggles and successes. Even if their emotions seem irrational to us, they are still real to them.
Moving overseas, you expect things to be difficult, so it seems strange to think things would be so challenging upon returning to your home country. But more and more people find their return more difficult than their departure. So let the Lord be your guide. Invite people to pray with you, pray as a family, and seek counsel from others who’ve walked this road before you. The journey is long. You’ll need some help along the way.
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Mari served as a missionary for eleven years in Lesotho, Africa, with her husband, a pilot/mechanic with Mission Aviation Fellowship (MAF). During their first few years living in Africa, her family faced many hardships and tragedies. After searching unsuccessfully for resources that could have prepared her for what they experienced, God put it on her heart to write the book she wished she’d had, and Living Uprooted: Encouragement for the Missionary Wife was born. She and her husband returned to the US in 2024, where they now train and mentor new missionaries. You can find her online at marieygabroad.substack.com.
