Processing TCKness

Forgive the thought spillage here, but the last few weeks have been spent running from one thing to another, with a few minutes in between to stop and think. So tonight there might be a bit of verbal diarrhea, but we'll try to keep it contained.

It's that time of the year when the identity crisis of the third-culture kid in me hits its lowest point trying to figure out these transitions not just between one culture to another, but one home to another. You know how they say, you can be in a big crowd of friends but still feel lonely? Well, you can also blend in with a culture but still not feel like you belong anywhere.

Blending in is not belonging.

And maybe it's wishful thinking for someone with my vocational call to want a sense of belonging in some culture of the world considering the rest of my life probably entails continual transition from one culture to another.

Just thinking about sitting in the room tonight with a bunch of seminary friends that I know I've done a fairly good job of being intentional about being relational with. God only knows how much easier it would be for me to hide behind tasks so I don't have to deal with the risks of getting hurt by love. God only knows how much easier it would be to keep doing life in isolation as I have for so long.

And God only knows how hard it has been trying to focus in the here and now.
Sitting at a party with acquaintances, checking my phone every once in a while for updates on a friend's health.
Sitting in a room amongst friends watching a movie and trying to chill after an exhausting week, heart hurting for friends on one side of the world and trying to figure out how the heck I am doing with my own emotional health.
And getting antsy about that dreaded 30 hours on the plane, finally getting some down time, yet being afraid of having to deal with myself again this year.

And trying to figure out how the heck I've gotten so culturally messed up that others can relate to pieces of my story but not the whole deal.

I've always known my cultural adaptability and chameleon-like personality would come in handy with my vocational call. But at the same time, I really just long for community that would know the ins and outs of the story and still stick with me through the rest of the developing story, rather than hear the stories because they are fresh and fascinating and they've never met a more culturally messed-up person than me.

But I know community is hard. And my level of commitment to being community to others is my own, and I cannot hold others to my same standard.

And while I'm frustrated with life at the moment, I would never trade any of this mess for anything else in the world. Because it is out of my messed up cultural identity that I can do well with the post-modern, post-Christian world, and without the story that backs up this mess of cultures, I have no understanding or credibility in that world.

I'm frustrated. And I'm getting tired so I should end this one before more ridiculousness ensues. For whatever reason, I'm REALLY looking forward to my decompression time at that favourite place in the world this year.