10 Practical Ways to Help the Transitioning

Transitioning people have a difficult time knowing how to enter a populated space where relationships are already deeply established.  Loneliness, cluelessness, fear of being hurt and a state of being overwhelmed can at times keep them from reaching into the community around them.  As real as those feelings may be, they should never be an excuse for the transitioning soul.  An effort should be put forth in applying oneself right where he resides.

That being said, we are going to dig into the Top 10 Ways non-transitioning people can reach out to the transitioning individuals in their lives.  These all came from people who have either walked through or are in the middle of transition.  Just for entertainment purposes, I placed the advice in order of how many times they were sent in.

1.      Ask Questions. There’s an entire life and world overseas that is vastly different from yours.  The only way you are going to know what your transitioning friend is thinking or going through is by asking.  In doing so, you will speak volumes of interest.  I don’t know that one can ask too many questions.

2.      Listen.  There is nothing worse than a person who asks a question and pays no attention to the answer.  If you remember little details (the anniversary of their move, the date of a difficult, upcoming event, their favorite holiday overseas or any other random fact) you will communicate love to your friend in transition.  Be there for them.  There are days when they may need to talk about how difficult life currently is, how much they miss ‘home,’ and how good the family vacation to Paris was.  Be a listening ear.

3.      Include.  Often the first month or two are full of people inviting the transitioning person/people over for supper, out with friends or to a holiday event.  This is great but including can’t stop at the first- or second-month mark.  Don’t assume someone else is including them.  Take it upon yourself to make sure they are included.  If you invited them to a friend outing, make sure they have a place in the conversation as well.  Holidays are special and sentimental times in a person’s life.  Reach out to the transitioning during a holiday and make sure they have a place to go, people to be with, and events to take part in.

4.      Validate.  Acknowledge that the transitioning soul in your life is grieving.  It’s not always fun and games.  There are countless times when they won’t feel overly happy to be “home.”  When you ask them what has been the hardest part of transition, don’t respond to their answer with a list of what’s good in this country.  A great way to show care is by listening and validating their current struggles.  You can always pray for them and continue to check in on them as well.

5.      No Assuming.  You really don’t know how they are doing in the middle of the transition unless you ask them.  Please don’t ever jump to conclusions on your own or via someone else’s word.  Make sure you ask, listen, and get what they are saying. Assumptions kill relationships.

6.      Use the Word “Home” Lightly.  Referring to the current location as “home” is very risky and even painful at times.  For the transitioning soul, “home” is often still the place they just moved from.  It takes time for a place to feel like home.  In fact, it doesn’t happen over the course of a year, but over several years.  Just be mindful of the fact that this may not currently feel like “home.”

7.      Extend Grace.  A transitioning person doesn’t know how to live in this country just because he was born here.  Life has been very different and the current culture can be overwhelming to jump into.  He will make mistakes and will need a gracious person to help him navigate through the new changes.

8.      Enter Their World.  Find ways to hear about the culture, eat the food, look at pictures, and grasp a little more of their lives.  Be creative. 

9.      Offer Help.  If there’s a community event coming up, check in with your transitioning friend to make sure they know what’s going on.  There are times when the most obvious customs will seem confusing to the transitioning individual.  If they are clueless, you can explain and give as many details as they need.  Make yourself available for them to ask questions when they feel clueless and never make them feel dumb for asking the questions they do.

10.   Be Welcoming.  Look for ways to make them feel welcome as they settle into a new home, while at the same time giving them space to find their way in this new culture.  Whether it be a grocery shower, inviting them to a book club, including their kids in a Summer Bible School, dropping off a meal, or including them in a holiday event, make sure this continues throughout the years of transition and not for the first few months alone.

Still Transitioning

 It’s hard to imagine the familiar life around me vanishing into only a memory with a select group of people to share it with.  As hard to imagine as it may be, it happens.  It happened.

Everything I knew to be familiar and stable in the physical world faded into the distance as the plane left the ground.  The sights, scents, words and customs were gone.  The darkness of night folded in over the world I called home for eleven years as the aircraft took us higher and farther away from land.  It felt unreal.  Almost like a dream.

A couple months passed and the ache to go home hit hard.  It was time to go back to normal, but I couldn’t.  I tried to face reality, but reality was harsh.  He stared me in the eyes with a cruel and lonely look that only transition and death can bring.  Transition and I have a love/hate relationship.  There are parts of change that bring comfort to me and at times almost feel like they need to occur to keep me sane.  Death, on the other hand, has been a little too cold for me.  Death to homes, relationships, people and familiarity are not something I have ever enjoyed.  As much as death keeps me focused on what’s important, there’s a dark side to him I don’t enjoy encountering.

Here I am today thinking back over the past twenty-five years of my life.  Fourteen years ago we set foot on a brand-new county (to us).  In my lifetime of traveling I had never faced a fourteen plus hour flight.  Not to mention Asia being an entirely new continent and set of cultures for me to grasp.

The air was warm and the scents were kinda weird.  The food was decent, but boy was I tired.  The following days took us to lots of empty houses and left us with the decision of whether we wanted to rent one of them or not.  I didn’t like it.  I really didn’t want to be there.  My heart was still in the Caribbean where all my friends were.  Let’s not even start on the cousins and family in the North.  My heart was torn…no, not just torn.  It was broken and my eleven-year-old mind didn’t know how to fix it.

Days turned to weeks, weeks to months and months to years. Meanwhile the funky scents became familiar and almost comforting, the language made more sense to my confused mind, the food was incredible and daily life was so ordinary.  It was home.

There were countless times I messed up, used the wrong word, didn’t like a certain dish, had bad manners and offended someone; but the Thai people were so forgiving.  There were days when I was tired of fighting the cultural battle deep within me and wished that I could just live without all the frustrations, miscommunications and expectations.  At the end of every day, though, my friends and people around me knew that no matter what happened I would always be a white, American girl.  Because of that, they gave me grace to find my way, learn, make mistakes and be myself.  I could not have done it without their grace, care and love for me.

Eleven years and two months later my family boarded a plane for the U.S.  All of our belongings were packed up and the house we called home for years was in the hands of someone else.  Being warned by people with great years of experience told us the journey before us was going to be deep, tiring, lonely and long.  As much as I believed them, I honestly didn’t know it would be quite like this.

December will mark three years of life in the States.  I can’t say I’m that excited about it.  In fact, I find myself embarrassed to even tell people that sentence.  I guess I thought it would be a little different.  That the American people would be a little more gracious.  For some reason I expected them to care more than they have.  I was wrong.

You see, Journal, I look like this group of people called the Mennonites.  The state we are currently residing in contains tons of them…no, like really. TONS! You remember the days I’ve told you I wish I looked different, don’t you? Ok.  You’re right.  I am Mennonite, but the Mennonite culture here is so….different might be the best word.  I don’t think people ever even think about the fact that my brain doesn’t comprehend why they are doing what they do, Journal.  So, subconsciously, they assume I like to eat browned butter with everything, have ham balls for Sunday lunch (which, tell me, Journal, how do you even make those things?) and determine the food’s level of spice the same way they do.

Oh, and Journal, the truth is that I can hardly pay for toll with my left hand because that feels rude, but using my right hand causes embarrassing stunts.  When we go to someone’s house, it feels rude to not take them something, but is that the way it’s supposed to be done?  Why do people wear their shoes in the house and hang out with their little group of people all their lives?  It’s uncomfortable for someone to freely worship in church and work is part of their identity, I guess…  People don’t really know how to be needed by others apart from their families and Journal, it must be rather important for Christians to be self-sufficient.  It all seems rather backwards to me, but then again, I don’t know how all this works.  I guess I just subconsciously thought I’d find that community feeling I grew up having, but reality is that life in America is different.

So here’s to swimming through the waves of transition, Journal.  Some days they’re huge and other days it almost feels like they’re hardly there…Which means we are making progress, right?

Oh, and Journal, HAPPY 14^th MOVING ANNIVERSARY a day late.