7 Hours in the Future

Hello, Upstate New York friends! It’s Micaelyn, your resident time traveler. I’m living 7 hours in the future. This is my second major overseas trip, and if I’ve learned anything, it’s that time zone differences can really suck. I wish there was a better way of putting it, but it’s honestly just how it is.

Tony has been laughing at me recently because going overseas makes me so nostalgic that I feel a need to connect with anyone and everyone I know and love. I’m over here texting people I haven’t spoken with in a decade and calling my family every 5 minutes. Meanwhile, I don’t think twice about not calling my mom for a week when I'm home. (Sorry, mom!)

This drive to connect with the people who get my culture and know me well, coupled with the fact that I’m living 7 hours ahead of them, can be difficult for my heart to carry. It’s been tough the last few days—the language and cultural, barriers make it hard to connect with others. This isn’t to say that I haven’t made any good connections. On the contrary, I’ve made good friends in Tony’s family. But there’s something different about getting to know someone and being known.

When we were in New York, I went out nearly every day. Whether it was to get groceries, go on a walk, or grab a cup of coffee, days rarely passed when I didn’t get out of the house. Now that we’re in Lebanon, things are different. While I used to drive everywhere, I now have to relearn to drive in very different conditions. In fact, I probably won’t even be driving at all this trip. It feels like a lack of control. I used to go out if I felt lonely or antsy, but now my movement is dependent on whether or not I can get a ride. (Uber isn’t a great option since I don’t yet speak the language.) Now if I’m lonely or antsy, I have to sit in it—to wait in the discomfort.

But I think that it’s the silence where God graces us with His presence. God is with you in the loneliness, in the quiet, in the suffering, in the darkness of your tear-stained pillow, in your whispered prayers. He is with you. Even to the end.