Dear Loved One,
As you know by now, we are on our way back to the States. This is an early return for us and has been one of the hardest decisions we’ve ever had to make. Yet it’s the right one. We know that we could have continued to push through for two more months until the end of our term, and there are some important things we could accomplish in that time, but we are utterly exhausted, broken, and in need of healing. For our little family of three, this is the best next step, though certainly the most difficult.
As we make this massive transition, I wanted to ask that you please be gentle with us. We are hurting, we are in need of grace, and we have had experiences and gone through traumas that you will probably never know about or be able to understand. We want to tell you, really we do, but there are some things that just don’t go into words so easily, things that without the proper context would make no sense, so saying nothing will be easier. I’m sorry for that.
I know that you want to support us well and be helpful, and we are incredibly thankful for that. But there will probably be many times when we simply don’t know what we need. We will probably desperately need your help, your ear, your support, but won’t have any way to vocalize it. We may tell you that we’re good, that we don’t need anything at all, that we don’t know how you can help. It’s probably not true, but we just won’t know how to express what we need. We’re not trying to push you away. We want your support, we just don’t know how to say it. So please don’t give up on us.
We know that you will say things or ask questions that are meant to be kind and loving, but they will be hurtful to us. We have mixed feelings about going “home,” we have no idea what our next step is, and we’re generally not doing fine. That’s not to say that we won’t be enjoying many of the comforts of America, that we aren’t incredibly glad to be reunited with family and friends, and that we aren’t so thankful for a season of rest. But please think carefully before you assume you know how we’re feeling or what we’re going through.
We are grieving deeply. Leaving Tonj with the knowledge that we wouldn’t be returning was incredibly painful. The only way I can think to describe it is to say that it feels like someone we loved deeply has just died. That’s the depth of grief we’re experiencing. We had a home there that Blaise built, that we lived in and loved as a family. We had teammates who became as close as family to us, who saw us at our worst and loved us still, who we did life with day after day. We had friends on our compound and in the community whom we loved deeply, shared life with, and poured into. We had experiences that were unlike anything we’ve ever experienced in the States. We felt a great intimacy with God as we carried out His work in South Sudan, trusted Him with our lives, and relied on Him to meet our needs. We had hopes and dreams and plans for what ministry and life would look like there, even for years to come. We had a sense of purpose and calling on our lives. Even though it was hard, it was home. Please give us the space to grieve, the time to process what we’ve been through, the permission to walk through this tremendous loss.
We are going to be experiencing a tremendous deal of reverse culture shock. Yes, it’s true, we are going back to our home culture. We should know the social norms and cultural expectations, but sometimes living in South Sudan was a bit like living on another planet. We were so far removed from everything familiar to us and we became really comfortable living within that culture, so it will be overwhelming, shocking, and probably incredibly frustrating to be back in the States. You may have heard us complain about aspects of living over here, but that doesn’t diminish the love we had for this place nor will it make it any easier to go “home.” Please be forgiving of us when we can’t handle gatherings of people–even people we love deeply, when we feel disjointed and uncomfortable in church, when we pass on going out to eat or going shopping together.
Please also forgive us if we ever come across as judgmental about aspects of life in the States. That is not our intention. We just spent nearly two years of our lives living in a place where food is for survival, not enjoyment, and there is often not enough to go around. Where far too many children are given names like Chuol, because they managed to survive past age 5 when their brothers or sisters before them did not. Where gunshots are a completely normal part of daily life, where children carry around large caliber artillery, where AK-47s are as commonplace as cell phones. Where community is far more important than individualism, where shopping is done in a small market and vendors are addressed by name, where restaurant owners sent their greetings home with us. It was different and we will struggle with those differences.
We may talk about things that are just plain inappropriate. And we apologize for that. If we go to dinner with you and somehow end up talking about our bowel movements, we apologize. This has been completely normal dinnertime conversation for us for almost two years. When you live in a place where your bowel habits tell you a lot about your general health, it’s a common thing to discuss openly with others. We’re not trying to be crass…we just love you enough that we’ve brought you into our inner circle and feel comfortable telling you about our poo. 🙂
Not only are we grieving the loss of the life, the friendships, and the hopes we had in South Sudan, but we feel defeated, we feel like we failed, and we feel like we just weren’t strong enough. We feel like we failed our supporters, EV, the South Sudanese, and God. The enemy is already coming after us hard in this transition, and these are some of the biggest lies he is telling us right now. We know that leaving Tonj was the right decision, and most days we even know that going back to the States is the right decision for our family in this season of life. We hope that someday we’ll find ourselves back in South Sudan, but because we’re catching a flight back to America instead of Tonj makes us feel like failures. Please be encouraging to us as we work through these heavy emotions and try to cling to the truth that God views success much differently than the world does.
Please understand that in climbing on the plane to go back to the States, we are losing our identities. We knew who we were before moving over here, were secure in those roles and identities, and knew where we fit in society. We knew who we were on the mission field, were secure in those roles and identities, and knew what place we had in this community. But as we go back to America, we just aren’t sure who we are anymore. We know that there’s no way to pick up where we were before, that life will never be the same again. We also know that the voids we left have been filled by other people and things by now. So this transition back to the States is not just about finding a way to start over, it’s about finding who we are again. And I want to warn you, we are and always will be different than we were before.
Finally, we want you to have grace on us. And we promise to have grace on you. We will say strange things, perhaps react strongly and unexpectedly to comments you make, and generally really struggle for the next weeks and months. Our emotions are going to be all over the place. Please have grace on us. We are certainly not trying to hurt you or push you away. And we know that you will say and do things that are unintentionally hurtful to us. We know your hearts and we will try to remember that this is a big transition for you, too.
With all of that said, we want you to know that we are also really excited to see you again! There have been times over the last couple of years when we missed you so much it was physically painful. We were heartsick for people who know us, love us, pray for us, and share the same culture as us. We are also exceptionally excited for you to meet our amazing son! This season of life, though incredibly confusing and painful for us, is also exciting in many ways and we want to celebrate with you.
Love, Blaise and Cass
praying for you during this time 🙂 <3
We literally can't wait to see you and Blaise, and to meet Clark. We love you all. Please forgive the faux pas we will undoubtedly make. Welcome "home"!