Being an Immigrant Made Me a Better Pilgrim

When I was 13 I moved to Brazil. My family and I moved there to be missionaries, we planted a church and prayer room that is still going strong today.

I remember the feeling of walking into the Portuguese-only school after I’d been in Brazil for only 3 weeks. I remember trying to find what we needed in the grocery store when I had no idea what anything was. I remember trying to bake cookies when we arrived and having no idea why they turned out so bad. I remember driving all over thy kingdom come looking for a pharmacy that would sell me antibiotics for strep throat late at night

We had no idea what we were doing. We felt lost all the time.

Learning how to live in another country, especially where they speak a different language, is a full-time job.

We all take for granted the feeling of walking into a room and “knowing” the rules—how to act, behave, and talk to people. When you’re in a new country, you walk into a room and you have to observe and watch constantly to “learn” the rules.

It takes a long time to get a grasp of what’s what.

Slowly though I started to get the hang of it. I learned Portuguese, I made friends, I learned the rules. After 6 years of living there many of their rules became my rules.

Brazilian culture had a massive influence on me. If I had never moved to Brazil, I would most likely be very inflexible and rigid. Brazil beat that right out of me. And I’m thankful for it. I’m a much more flexible and adaptable person because of my years in Brazil.

I was an immigrant. I know what it feels like.

I cannot stand it when I see people treated poorly for not speaking perfect English or being different here in the United States. If someone doesn’t speak perfect English, it means they at least speak two languages.

When I moved back to the United States in 2019, it was like moving to a new place. I was an “adult” and had to learn how to be an adult in the US. I didn’t know how to open a bank account, which cereal to choose when there’s 50 options filling an entire aisle, how to look for a job, or what the new “slang” was. It took me a while to figure out what “bougie” meant.

I missed Brazil terribly when I moved back to the US. Brazil had become home and suddenly I was in Denver, Colorado being told I now lived in the best city in the world. Tough pill to swallow when I had just moved from an island with 42 beaches.

My “home” country didn’t feel like home. When I was able to go back to visit Brazil I realized it no longer felt like home either. It was like a sledge hammer to my heart when I realized that.

No place feels 100% like home. Part of my heart will always be in Brazil. Part of my personality comes alive in Brazil that lies dormant in the United States. I am also an American, born and bred. Part of me will always come alive here.

There is no place that I can call home.

When my birthday rolls around, I can never have all the people I want at my birthday party. Half of them live a few thousand miles away.

But I wouldn’t trade this pain in my heart for anything. I am who I am because I lived overseas. I got to see the world. I saw how people live outside of my little bubble. That lesson is worth more than most people will ever know.

But here’s the thing. My experience of living overseas has shown me something quite clear: I was not made for this place.

Moving around and living overseas broke me out of my comfort zone and showed me that I was not made for this earth, I was made for eternity. Most people don’t have the privilege of living overseas and they never face that discomfort.

I’ve faced it. A lot. No place feels like home, because no place here is home. My citizenship is in heaven. Jesus showed me this through my moving around.

I’ve felt lost more times than I count. Everyone around me looked so stable, so comfortable, everyone in their place. I almost never feel like that.

Psalm 119 has brought me a lot of hope over the years. It’s an exception Psalm.

“Open my eyes, that I may see Wondrous things from Your law. I am a stranger in the earth; Do not hide Your commandments from me. My soul breaks with longing For Your judgments at all times.” — Psalms 119:18-20

I’ve prayed this prayer many times. I am a stranger here, please dear God do not hide Your commandments from me. I need You here. My soul cannot make it without you.

I felt like drowning here in Kansas when I first got here. I felt so out of place, I needed to be reminded that my citizenship is in heaven. And although I felt like a stranger, God was still with me. Until He splits the sky and heaven and earth come together He is with me here.

He is with me in the discomfort, when I feel out of place, when I miss “home” and don’t even know where that is. He has given me His commandments.

“For our citizenship is in heaven, from which we also eagerly wait for the Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ,” — Philippians 3:20

Being an immigrant has made me a better pilgrim. I am a stranger on the earth. I now know that I am not made for this place, so I eagerly wait for the Savor to come.

Many people spend their whole lives not knowing that they were never made for this place. They live their whole lives comfortably.

I’m not comfortable, I know that I was made for somewhere else.

P.S. I bought a couple of bible studies from Daily Grace Co. a few months back and I am really enjoying them. They are cheap, beautifully laid out, easy to do, and only have 10-15 minutes a day.

I’m currently doing the study on the book of Philippians and the Attributes of God. It’s pretty great.

Photo by Leio McLaren on Unsplash