If you’ve been around the blog for a while, you probably know that our little family has lived overseas for the last three years. We moved to Japan in 2018 and loved every second of that adventure.
You also may have noticed it’s been a bit quieter on this side of the internet lately. I promise we’ve had a good reason.
This spring, we joined thousands of other military families who said goodbye to their current home. Then, like so many others, we packed our bags, boarded a plane (armed with COVID tests and forms, masks, and snacks), and moved on to our next location.
We’ve Moved!
And, as it turns out, we’re happy to share that we’ll be continuing our story overseas in Europe. For the foreseeable future, we’ll be building a new community in Italy.
As excited as we are to see more of the world, can I be honest for a minute? Being in transition is challenging and hard and exhausting. Our move to Japan felt easier – COVID wasn’t a thing yet, and I was beyond ready to move on from the duty station we’d had before. I was prepared to trade the known for the unknown.
And Japan was terrific. We had a supportive, loving community. We traveled easily and safely. We ate and drank and explored.
But as we settled in, living as a foreigner in Japan began to take its toll. Without a firm grasp of the language, every outing was draining. More often than not, we managed just fine and had a great time doing so. But sometimes, I found myself avoiding interactions or outings because communicating and being constantly accosted by foreign sights and sounds was just too much for my brain.
At times, just the thought of being continually immersed in another culture and language exhausted me. Don’t get me wrong, I’m beyond excited to be able to explore all Europe has to offer. But, if I’m being honest, a small part of me was looking forward to returning to the known structure of the US.
The Challenges of Transition
Now we’re in Italy, and while the language is a bit easier, I still can’t really ask for what I need. (It takes a surprising amount of time to switch from hai to si, and I keep squeezing past people with a muttered sumimasen instead of mi scusi.)
Italy feels like the exact opposite of Japan. Time seems to pass differently here, and I find myself missing the very on-time trains of Japan. There’s no such thing as 24-hour convenience stores, and shops often close in the afternoon for an extended lunch. This base works entirely differently from our last. I often find myself lost about how to get things done. Feeling at home, and finding a physical place to call home, has already taken twice as long as our previous move.
Once again, our family finds itself in the thick of the unknown.
Provision in the Unknown
But even still, Husband and I have seen God provide for us in unique ways. The timing of our arrival was perfect for us, despite a few hiccups in the process. We’ve made a few friends, and all of us are navigating travel and new restaurants together. Husband’s gaining unit provided us a responsive and thoughtful sponsor before we even arrived. Our cell phone plans from Japan are working here, however slowly, allowing us to take our time securing Italian phone numbers.
Day by day everything seems to work out, even if the big picture is still fuzzy and out of focus.
Things are coming together. But I find that a military move is an especially tangible reminder of how little control we have over our own lives. For the most part, someone else lays out the path to becoming “fully at home”. We have paperwork and steps to take to integrate into our new life in Italy.
It’s not always linear, and it’s often sometimes up to us to decide in what order we accomplish things. But, overall, the road is paved by someone else.
I think life is like that, too. As humans, we’re in a constant state of change, ebbing and flowing, responding to whatever construction areas happen to pop up on the road we walk. Pit stops and detours are often up to us, but the road is there for us to follow.
Even if the end is hazy and out of sight, following the road will bring us home.
