A Lament For A City

When you live anywhere for an extended period of time, you slowly become more aware of the culture, texture and general feel of the place. Nowhere does the culture, texture and feel come alive more than on the streets of the city.

We have now been here in Perugia for two and half years. The streets of this city tell its story of triumphs, whisper its secrets, and bear its scars. Slowly, as we’ve walked the streets prayerfully over these past few years we’ve become better attuned to the story this beautiful city tells.

Upon arrival in Perugia you can’t help but come face to face with its massive walls. There are actually three layers of walls spanning a whole history of wars fought. They shape and define this city. Perugia is a city built as a fortress. It functions as a fortress. I believe that the shape and definition, both geographically and physically of a city affect the people who inhabit it. A city built as a fortress, functions as a fortress. The are reasons for the way a city is built, functions and behaves. Culture doesn’t happen in a vacuum. A history of war, famine, suffering, autonomy and oppression will undoubtedly mark and shape a people and their city.

The story our city tells is a story of great victory but also of loss and sorrow. Over the past few years we’ve felt the weight of the city, a once proud city at the center of the Etruscan empire has been left behind and forgotten by a nation. Its people wear the heaviness of unresolved sorrow on their faces. The problem with sorrow is that it doesn’t simply disappear over time.

Unresolved sorrow will almost always undoubtedly lead to bitterness. Sorrow that is dealt with in a healthy way however, will eventually lead to hope. This reality is on display throughout the book of Lamentations. In the midst of loss, sorrow and crisis, Lamentations points toward God and acknowledges his sovereignty regardless of the circumstances. Throughout scripture, lament is a liturgical response to the reality of suffering and engages God in the context of pain and trouble. The hope of lament is that God would respond to human suffering that is wholeheartedly communicated through lament. A lament allows someone or someones to engage with the reality of their situation. To feel it. To hold it. To allow the sorrow of loss to run its course. Plumbing the depths of sorrow paves a wave forward with God, it allows us to cry out for help and a way out, which undoubtedly leads to praise for the ways in which He responds.

When we see the brokenness in our cities it is certainly not surprising that we cry out for health, wholeness and justice. We desire to be part of the change and transformation of a place. But often in ministry we go straight for the fix. This method, though helpful sometimes in the short term, often undermines true healing and a wholistic way forward. Rah and McNeil in their book “Prophetic Lament” summarize it well:

Ministry in the city can often focus on symbolic ideals. We may idealize and even romanticize the city beyond its material reality. Instead of lamenting the actual situation of the city as demanded by the city-lament genre as employed in the book of Lamentations, we may long for an idealized future for our city. In urban ministry, there is a strong tendency toward an image of what the city should be. Often, that image may reflect the image of a successful suburban ministry and assumptions about a flourishing life in a gentrified urban neighborhood. A city lament brings the story of the city to its actual material setting and reality. The city is not an object to be fixed or manipulated—it is the concrete reality of lives and souls that live in the city (85).

That’s the gift of lament. It forces us to linger in the concrete reality of life in a city. It prevents us from simply jumping to the fix. As we pray for our city, we’ve seen the way unresolved sorrow has stunted life. The losses from over two thousand years of history, history that is full of conquering and being conquered, have a way of seeping into the very fabric of life. Lamentations reminds us that hope is found only in submission to God and not in our ability to scratch and claw our way out of it. As we’ve prayed for the city, a lament came forth, one we offer in hope that God would respond and remember again this beautiful city.

A Lament For Our City

Remember, O Lord, what happened to us and our city;

            look, and see the layers of our disgrace.

Our inheritance was given over to strangers;

            our land buried by those whom you had appointed.

Whole families slaughtered – widows, orphans, fatherless;

            all left to grieve with no one to comfort them.

The crops we grow are no longer ours;

            our autonomy and freedom has become our isolation.

The one’s whom claim your name harass and murder our people;

            so then, to whom shall we turn?

We tried in vain to protect ourselves;

            just so we’d have enough to eat.

Our fathers built more walls and killed in the name of protection;

            and now we bear their sin.

We kept building walls, trying to protect and hold back destruction;

            instead, those walls became our prison – with no one to save us.

We walk the streets plagued by suspicion;

            who will attack us next?

Our bodies burn with fear;

            fear of looming threat from every direction.

Women have been violated, forgotten, ignored throughout our history;

            there is no place for you young woman – stay in your home.

Young men, you are forced to shed your innocence before it’s time;

            elders, leaders forced to hold your built up disappointments and sorrows.

The youth are left without work and without hope because of unjust practices;

            young men buried under the weight of expectation that they are to be strong yet never having developed strength.

The elders of the city silently fade into pension;

            the youth who raise their cries for justice are met with mockery.

What was once a beautiful, vibrant and colorful city

            is now faded under the tinge of pollution; reduced to grey.

Our great warriors and walls have failed us;

            woe to us; for we have sinned.

For this our hearts have grown faint;

            our eyes are made dim and set ever towards the ground.

This city on a hill is forgotten;

            we are left disconnected, for Italy has passed us by.

You oh Lord reign forever;

            your throne endures from generation to generation.

Why have you also forgotten us?

            why have you left us to die in our prison cell?

Restore us to yourself, Lord, that we may be free;

            renew and restore the color and hope that once was.

Unless you’ve rejected us completely;

            and your anger rests on us without measure.

Would you join us in lamenting the brokenness of a city and praying for the hope that is found in God’s faithful response.

The Discipline of Relent.

We live on a very narrow street.

It is the kind of street that is “technically” two lanes however, due to its actual width and the fact that one side is perpetually lined with parked cars, it is functionally a one lane road with cars attempting to go in both directions. Add to that the Italian knack for “creative parking solutions” and you don’t have to imagine too hard how often our street is frozen in a good ole fashioned western stare down. Daily we see cars coming from both directions engaged in a game of who’ll flinch first.

On more than a few occasions I’ve mindlessly started up our road to head somewhere only to come face to face with another car. But one occasion in particular was a stare down that, *ahem* shall we say, “got a little heated.”

Like, neither car budging for a long time heated.
Like, stare down the other driver with the coldest of gaze heated.
Like, “you better move or I will literally run you over” heated. 

Now, in the aforementioned face-off I found myself a little further down the road than the other person. Behind me was literally no space on either side of the road. I could not pull aside and let her pass. So, I felt as though I should have had the right of way…and yet, I was stopped face to face with someone who had “that” look on their face.

That “there’s no way in Hades you’re going before me, back it up buster” look. So, naturally I repaid that stare with an equally icy and unwavering stare. 

Now, to be clear, for me to back up, because of the way the street is and the lack of space, it would have required me go in reverse all the way to where I started from. So, I started waiving my hands wildly in disbelief and yelling out loud (to myself, in my car) that this person had the audacity to not back up into a perfectly open space so as to allow me to easily pass. All they had to do was back up a smidge. I had to back up a much longer distance.

Oh the injustice and horror of it all.

As I became more agitated and the stand-off continued for what seemed like minutes, I heard the voice of God ask a simple question, “why is it so important for you to win?

As I ran through the litany of reasons in my head of why SHE should move I suddenly realized how ridiculous I was acting. I took a breath, and with a slight tinge of bitterness I relented. I put the car in reverse and naturally went backwards as painfully slow as I could until I arrived at the place I had begun. 

She drove right past me. No look. No wave of appreciation. Nothing. 

I’d like to say I just drove on to my destination without giving it another thought. Didn’t happen. I fumed the whole way there and then upon returning home recanted the entire event in vivid and impassioned detail to my wife. 

While an incident like this doesn’t happen every day, there are countless opportunities like it for me to “assert” myself and make sure that I get what I want when I want it. Often times this comes at the expense of my view of another person. How quick I can be to, in a sense, discount the woman (whom I didn’t even know) as some monster who wouldn’t budge or get out of my way. In those moments I’m much more concerned with myself and my “rights” than I am another person’s.

When I practice backing down in instances like these I am actively and purposely allowing others to “win.” I am, in a sense putting others needs and desires ahead of my own in a way that releases my need for justice and the “right thing” to be done. 

I’ve found that it requires a great deal of intentionality. To submit to the will and desire of another means I have to relent. I have to purposefully choose to let them win, to let them have what they want, at the expense of my own will and desire. 

When I actively look for ways to practically and intentionally relent I am struck by the sheer number of times within a given day I am plagued by selfishness and a desire for my own brand of justice mitigated by my own personal motivations. When I relent, I am practicing a way in which I put the needs and desires of another before my own. It’s not natural, it’s not fun, it’s not even always rewarding, but it is a way in which I can actively choose the good of another and in it, grow in my love for others. 

The reality is, I don’t need to win. Whether I have the right of way or not, it doesn’t really matter. If my need to win leads me to view someone else as a “monster,” then it’s a problem. When I purposefully relent and allow another to have their way, I move towards love and a proper view of my neighbor. As we look for ways to love our neighbors well, I’m reminded that one small way we can do that is to relent and intentionally choose the good of another.

To relent, as Paul says in Philippians 2, is to consider others more important than myself. It is, to look not only to my own interest, but also to the interest of others. And in this way, we actually live out and work out our salvation in Christ. In other words, it’s in the relenting of our will and way to another that we practically live out the reality of our salvation daily. 


A Note On Two Years

Last week we celebrated our second full year here in Italy. To say that these past two years have been an adventure would be an understatement. There have been countless things to celebrate, to grieve, to learn, to gain, and to lose.

As we reflect on the past two years here in Italy I’m reminded of Jesus’s promise in John 15.

“I am the vine; you are the branches. If you remain in me and I in you, you will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing. If you do not remain in me, you are like a branch that is thrown away and withers; such branches are picked up, thrown into the fire and burned. If you remain in me and my words remain in you, ask whatever you wish, and it will be done for you. This is to my Father’s glory, that you bear much fruit, showing yourselves to be my disciples.

If there’s one thing that we’ve found to be consistent over our two years here in Italy it is that when we are listening well to the Spirit of God and obey courageously, we see God do some incredible things. We’ve learned, as Dallas Willard puts it, that when we “internalize the words of God and put them into action” we experience fruitfulness and the easy and light yoke Jesus promised.

As with most things (as we continually experience with God), abiding rarely looks like we think it should. Abiding in Jesus often pushes us past places of comfort. It often invites us to wait. More often than not we’re left being misunderstood. The incredible thing is that when we lean in, God shows up. That is the story of the past two years here in Italy. We’ve waited, we’ve listened, we’ve obeyed, we’ve been misunderstood, we’ve traded in a lot of the comforts that we were accustomed to for a new and often strange culture. But, in doing so, we’ve seen God transform our hearts and the hearts of those around us.

With each passing year may we learn to more fully abide in Him that we’d bear much fruit for His glory.

May the Kingdom of Heaven reign here in Italy as it is in heaven.

“If They Would Only…”

Ministry is a funny thing. We serve others because we care. Our deepest desire is that people would experience love and freedom. We desire for them to be filled with hope and their lives to be marked by peace. Obviously our desire is rooted in relationship with Jesus. It is out of a life that’s being transformed by Him that we serve others. At the same time, often the longer we are in ministry the easier it is for us to see the shortcomings in others. It becomes easier for us to see clearly the barriers to belief or life transformation in the lives of those we serve. We often find ourselves locked in to the “problems” that plague the church and hinder her from being all that God has called her to be. If we’re not careful though, our ability to discern these things can lead us to a place of pride. With great ease we quickly move to right answer and right action rather than actually caring for those we serve.

Out of “love” we say things like…”if they would only…” or “why can’t they just…” or even, “they need to understand…” I’ve said these words. I’ve thought these thoughts. And even though I can rationalize them as care for others, I often find that my bigger issue is that they’re not doing the things that I want them to do. Or perhaps they’re not believing the things I think they should believe. This is often just a guise for control. When we use the cover of ministry to control actions or belief, we’re actually not loving people at all.

Ministry is messy. People are messy. The longer I walk with Jesus the more I realize that my job is not to change behaviors or even thinking…it’s simply to love my neighbor. God actually takes care of the rest…in his time, in his way. How can I love well when I more concerned with getting them to do the right thing, when we know actions are nothing more than outpouring of a person’s heart? If I care for someone’s heart well and actually allow God to do the changing of things, it often leads to real transformation. When I only see the sin or distorted belief and push towards change of behavior or belief, well, that often leads to a fight. That’s probably because behavior modification rarely leads us anywhere.

To actually care for a person’s heart we must be filled with compassion. Compassion allows us to live with the tension of what is and what should be without needing to force anything. The only way we can actually live lives of compassion is if we ourselves have experienced compassion. This is probably why Jesus tells us to love our neighbor AFTER we learn to love God. That’s because the only way we can be people of compassion is if we have first received it from God himself.

When we show compassion to others, when we choose to love rather than control, when we sit patiently with people, we are actually pointing them to life in the kingdom of God. The kingdom of God is a kingdom in which we can trust God will act. Life in the kingdom is a life of compassion, a life of patience, a life of long suffering, and a life of trusting in the slow, intentional work of God to bring about transformation. This is where real change happens. When I push – I often push away from the kingdom. I am reminded of how Jesus interacted with the woman at the well in John 4. He didn’t start with “you are a terrible human being who sleeps around and makes terrible choices.” That probably would have shut down the conversation rather quickly. Instead, Jesus actually leads with compassion and care. The change in her heart naturally follows.

May I be a person who simply points people to life in the kingdom. May I show compassion when I’m tempted to show someone the “right answer.” May I resist the urge to simply jump to right thinking and instead care for someone’s heart by trusting God to do the changing. To be clear this doesn’t mean we don’t ever preach repentance or point people towards their need for change. But as I reflect on the life of Jesus I see over and over again examples of his compassion and care. The people whom he went to battle with, the Pharisees, were those who should have known better and claimed faith. As someone who claims faith, I must repent of having all the right answers and the right way of bringing about change in a person’s life lest I become like those Jesus condemns. May we in the church practice restraint and patience and a desire to love rather than control.

The Beautiful Chaos

March 13, 2017 we arrived here in Italy. We have now been here for over a year…

To be honest it has been a year full of ups and downs, joys and losses. To say it was an easy year would be dishonest. In fact, it was probably one of the most challenging and stressful years of our lives. And yet, despite that, we would do it all over again in a heartbeat.

People have often asked us, “what is it like to live in Italy?” The description that often comes to mind is one of “Beautiful Chaos.” Italy is, (as most would agree), an unbelievably beautiful place. From the incredible food to the world’s best wine, overwhelming piazzas to quaint cafes, the grandeur of our world’s history to the simplicity of a park bench in the shade; Italy is a place many dream of.

But just beneath the glorious beauty lies a thread that is interwoven amongst everything – chaos. This past year, we’ve continued to learn that the reality of life is, that in order for you to really experience the beauty you must embrace the chaos. From confusing bureaucracy to dizzying traffic and everything in between, there is a chaotic timber to almost every aspect of life. The more you fight the chaos of life here, the less you are able to appreciate the beauty that is around you. Life in Italy requires a lot of letting go – of expectations, of plans, of results, of control.

It is in the midst of this beautiful chaos that our souls have been stretched, challenged and changed in ways we hadn’t even expected. We continue to learn. We continue to grow and continue to meet God in the unknown and uncertainty of lives lived cross-culturally. It’s been a beautifully chaotic year.

Language Learning and the False Self

In the the first few months of learning a language cross culturally even a small trip to the grocery store can become a game of “how much stress will I have to endure this trip?”

One day as I was finishing putting all my groceries on the conveyor belt, the person ahead of me had just finished. The checkout lady turned to me.

“Salve, – (Insert a whole slew of Italian words in rapid succession here) – Ce l’hai?”

“Ce l’hai?!? Wait, what did you say?…Oh shoot, she’s staring at me…um…let’s see…’ce l’hai’…’ce l’hai’…oh wait…that means, ‘do you have it?’ I think so…shoot…wait, have what? Man that line’s getting long…hold on…um….’Si.’

“Ok.” (the cashier holds out her hand waiting for me to put something in said hand).

“Shoot…I don’t think I’m supposed to give her my credit card now…but…ok…here it goes.” (Places said credit card in hand).

(A look of confusion mixed with indignity appears on her face as she places my card on the counter and begins to scan my groceries.)

“I think she was asking about something else.”

Language learning whilst living cross culturally is one of the most frustratingly difficult and taxing things we’ve ever done. There have been few spaces or seasons in life that have forced us to face fear, confusion, and uncertainty with such laser focused precision. Language learning in a different culture has a way of pinpointing every. single. insecurity. that you hold in your heart and systematically poke and prod them relentlessly.

Situations like this one in the grocery store regularly force us to make decisions. When learning language cross culturally, one is regularly faced with answering the question of what’s more important: to pretend I understood something that was said to me so as to not look like an idiot or, to be honest and just admit I missed what was said and don’t fully understand?

Read: pretend so as not to look stupid or be honest and look stupid?

The irony is that pretending to be something we are not in order to avoid fear actually often leads to more embarrassment and doubles down on creating fear in us. When we choose to function from a place of falsehood we are functioning from a place of fear. Often this is a result of not being centered. When we forget who we are and whose we are, we easily shift and function from a false understanding of ourselves. When we live out of our false self we fear that our lack of a true center for our identity will be revealed and that weakness will be exploited by others.

Our false self will almost always try to compensate by finding our identity in performance – “I am what I do.”

In language learning our false self says:
“If I can just speak better, then I’ll be good to go!”
“Don’t let them know you don’t understand, they’ll think you’re dumb.”
“Fake it till you make it.”
“If they at least think I understand, then they’ll think I’m really doing well at learning language and will like me more.”

In language learning it’s easy to think that because we can’t speak well we won’t be valued. If our false self is rooted in value, then our ability to perform (or speak) is directly related to our value. Every time I fail to understand or articulate myself, I’ve failed. To the extent our false self guides our life, we fear others. Life with others is a constant threat to our false self. Others may see through or expose our facades of competence, confidence and control. Others may discover and disclose that we are a person without a firm center. And so we get stuck. If everything and everyone is a threat to my value then I might as well just stay inside and never leave my house.

Anytime we try to root our identity in anything other than God we’ll find ourselves trying to fearfully protect an identity that crumbles at the weight of its insufficiency. In language learning, and in reality, most things – when I try to uphold an image that I’ve created for myself I will undoubtedly, out of fear of losing it, do whatever I can to keep that image afloat. We are learning what it looks like each day to let go of the images of perfection and achievement and trust that we are valuable because of who we are in Christ and not our ability to speak well.

Our identity must be centered in Christ. Mulholland writes in his book ‘The Deeper Journey:’ “The life hidden with Christ in God is one of such growing union with God in love that God’s presence becomes the context of our daily life, God’s purposes become the matrix of our activities, and the values of God’s kingdom shape our life and relationships; God’s living presence becomes the ground of our identity, the source of our meaning, the seat of our value and the center of our purpose.”

We have to daily choose to be honest with ourselves and with others with where we are at in the process of learning the language and trust that our value comes from Christ and is enough to sustain us even if we look like idiots, fail to understand something, or say the wrong thing at the wrong time.

It’s easy to say our identity is found in Christ and not in our ability. But each day we are given countless opportunities to actually live that out by making choices that allow us to live in freedom from the need to uphold something that we are not. It’s in the little moments like the grocery store interaction where in a split second I can choose to live freely or hide. Do I trust that I’ll be ok even if I admit I don’t know something or apologize because I can’t say something correctly?

When I’m confident in who I am, I don’t have to pretend to be something I am not, I can be honest with where I am at in the process and relax; trusting I’ll get it…eventually. The lady at the checkout counter becomes a lot less scary when I don’t need her to assign me value.

These days when I’m asked if “ce l’hai?” I can politely just tell the checkout lady the truth…”L’ho dimenticato” (I forgot it.)

Why don’t they have……here?

There’s Diane Lane’s living in Italy and then there’s living in Italy.

Imagine you’re staying in a Bed and Breakfast somewhere in the hills of Tuscany. Every direction you look you see nothing but perfectly lined vineyards underneath the golden sun. You’re in the middle of a 3 week vacation through Italy. You’ve already seen the Colosseum, you’ve climbed the Duomo, you’ve taken a traghetto through the canals of Venice; the vino, the espresso, that incredible pasta you had overlooking the Duomo with the waiter who spoke great english and laughed with you as you tried to pronounce “grazie.” But, when it’s all over, you head home on your 8 hour flight where the unlimited wine makes you pine to be back in that cozy villa.

Now, hold on to that image.

But instead of hills replace it with a view of really old buildings that are in desperate need of maintenance, literally everywhere you look out your window. The scent of cigarettes and exhaust follow you everywhere you go.

That tuscan sun, it’s actually fog and clouds that blanket the city much of the fall and winter making it feel as though the walls that surround the city have now completely collapsed on you and enveloped everything.

That waiter, well, he actually doesn’t speak any english and grows increasingly irritated with you as you fumble through your food order.

When you visit a place for a short time you almost always find yourself with a romanticized view of those experiences. However, the longer you stay in a place, the more the realities of your new culture begin to set in and push up against your own cultural expectations. The nice shiny parts of that place begin to wear off and disorientation starts to set in. That disorientation is what experts call “culture shock.”

Now imagine you’ve just woken up and began your morning routine. Your kids have already been up for an hour or so but had been playing (read: without fighting) quietly enough to allow you to stay in bed a little longer than usual. You make your coffee, take your shower and sit down for breakfast. Suddenly, much to your early morning surprise, your doorbell buzzes. You open the door to a 65+ year old Italian woman, who, before you can even get a “buon giorno” out of your mouth, immediately unleashes more words and gestures than your B1 Italian class could have ever prepared you for. For the next 5 minutes (which actually feels like 20), an onslaught of Italian words reign down on you with a fury and emotion that could fell a dragon. You understand exactly what she’s saying (thanks in part to her continual repetition of the same two sentences), but you don’t have the words (or hand gestures) to appropriately respond. So, you stand there and press repeat on “capito” and “mi dispiace” until she realizes you don’t speak so well. Finally, she leaves. You take a breath, and go back to the table to finish your breakfast.

Sometimes, living in a place is just plain ridiculous. Sometimes you say the wrong thing at the wrong time. Sometimes you laugh when you should have showed empathy because you misunderstood the situation. Sometimes you hate the fact that you can’t get more than a spoonful of coffee. Sometimes you want something other than pasta for dinner. And sometimes you wish you could tell an old Italian woman how two year olds make a lot of noise and that you’re not purposely disrespecting them.

Transition from just visiting to actually living challenges you, pushes you, tries you in ways that you may never have expected. The challenge is to look at the honeymoon for what it is and hold those differences in tension. The vision of what was (or what you thought was) many times is dismantled and rebuilt 1000x over. And that’s ok, and actually pretty healthy.

We are learning more and more every day that getting adjusted and acclimated to a new culture is a process. A long one.

People way smarter than us name 4 stages of culture shock that one often goes through in the culture shock process.

Honeymoon. Negotiation. Adjustment. Adaptation.

It’s easy to think of these as a linear process, but as we’re learning, the reality is that you move in and out of these stages with great fluidity. As our experiences here in Italy continue to collide with our cultural experiences from the US it’s easy to allow self doubt and feelings of alienation to creep in.

“I wish I could speak better.”

“I know what you’re saying, I just don’t know how to respond.”

“Why don’t they have…..here?!”

“Our neighbors must not like us, they clearly don’t want to to talk to us.”

The better we are able to recognize, name, communicate, and actually understand why these different pieces of culture cause us stress or frustration the better we are able to hold the beauty and frustration in a healthy balance. And the easier it is for us to remember: this is normal. This is part of the process. This too is only a season.

We can celebrate the beauty of Diane’s Tuscan sun and at the same time mourn the reality of a winter spent in fog and car exhaust.

We can remember that incredible prosecco and yet long for a cup of coffee that fills a 16oz mug.

We can show ourselves grace because learning language is hard work and takes time.

We can know that the anger of an old Italian woman probably goes deeper than just being woken up too early – chances are good she probably just wants to be heard.

As missionaries we must learn to simultaneously celebrate and mourn. We know that God uses all of our experiences to shape us and form us, but our ability to be open and aware to how they are shaping us is a continual challenge and invitation.

We must step forward in faith, knowing every season is, in fact, a season.

Celebrate that which is good, mourn the losses.

It too shall pass.


Closed?! Again?!

This week Italy celebrated the holiday Ferragosto. It is one of the oldest holidays in Italy celebrating the harvest and a long strenuous season of agricultural work (the date has since been adopted by the Catholic and Orthodox church and August 15th is today celebrated around the world as the Feast of the Assumption of Mary). With Ferragosto comes a complete slowdown and in many cases shutdown of cities throughout Italy. Perugia is no exception. In the windows of most shops and places around town you can find a little sign that reads, “closed for ferie.” Many of these places are closed for weeks. Not days. Weeks.

A few days ago we were planning an afternoon walk with our boys to the city center to get a little gelato and try to “escape” the heat of our home. As is customary for new missionaries on the ground, we’ve been systematically trying different gelato shops around the city – you know; to “learn the culture.”

This particular afternoon we set out to return to a shop we had tried before and really enjoyed. The boys were ready! As soon as the word gelato leaves our mouths, the boys shoes are on and they’re waiting at the door. As we approached centro, we quickly came up to our gelato shop of choice only to find that notorious sign hanging in the window, “closed for ferie.” Immediately we were to forced to come up with a plan B. Gelato was promised, we had to figure something out!

Now there was a time when we first arrived here in Italy, just a few short months ago, where any one of us would have been frustrated, disappointed, or angry by said closing. But this wasn’t our first experience of “surprise we’re closed for_____.” In fact this wasn’t our second, third or even fourth time.

There is an ongoing joke in our home that every time we get ready to leave our house to go do something, one of us will undoubtedly say, “well, we’ll see if it’s even open today.” Even our boys have learned to temper their expectations of what might occur when they’re close to getting what they want. Instead of getting mad that they weren’t getting gelato at their favorite place, Emerson, our oldest, simply shrugged it off and said, “well let’s find another shop.”

Life here in Italy RARELY goes the way you think it will. The thing about living in a different culture is that if you’re not careful, your expectations can sometimes be miles away from reality. And when expectations and reality don’t line up, stress builds. It’s easy to think that when things go the way you want them to, life is good. When things don’t happen as you’d like, life suddenly becomes negative and disappointing; stress builds. When stress builds (and is not dealt with appropriately) it can significantly diminish your ability to succeed and thrive. The closer our expectations are to reality, the better we are able to adjust to our cross cultural context here in Italy.

We laugh now when we say out loud, “well, we’ll see if it’s even open today.” But what that little statement allows us to do is to be aware of our own expectations (that things should be open when we want them to be) and connect them with the reality (that in Italy, you literally never know if something will be open or not). By doing this, we are able to close the gap between expectations and reality and in turn lessen the stress we feel when something doesn’t go as we think it should.

Handling expectations is key to life overseas. It’s important to be aware of the expectations that we bring to each situation we face and ask ourselves, “are these realistic?” If we don’t even know the expectations we hold, it’s near impossible to fully understand the myriad of reasons and places stress builds up when those unknown expectations are not met.

It’s also helpful to remember that part of serving, of ministering, of living life in a different culture is that we must be willing to die to our expectations (lay down our lives). If we hold our expectations with clenched fists we’ll almost always be disappointed and, in many ways, miss out on gifts God desires to give us through our faithful laying down of our selves.

When we are able to name our expectations well, and understand them in light of the reality we find ourselves in, we are able to better avoid the rollercoaster of “things go well, life is good, things go bad, life is bad” thinking. Instead, we can move towards better learning and understanding of our new culture and adjusting our expectations towards the reality of our new culture, which allows us to thrive…and find another gelato shop.

Scarves when it’s 90?

“Oh the food though…”

When Americans think about Italy they often have a very specific (and more often-than-not, romantic) view of what Italy is like. Many we have met have been to Italy on a vacation or two and had the time of their life. To be honest, Italy is beautiful, it’s charming, romantic, enchanting, and just about every other adjective you could imagine to use. Italy is a country with a rich and complex culture; but as we are learning everyday, there is a vast difference between traveling to Italy for the “vacation of a lifetime” and actually living here.

A while back, the author John Maxwell remarked, “All the best leaders in the new millennium will be missionaries.” Even for us, that seems like a pretty bold statement.

Why do you think he said that?

In a flat, globalized world it seems as though we are always crossing cultures–or at least we should be–and we need to know how to do that well if we hope to be fruitful. As our family prepared to move here and, as we live here now our prayer has been, “Lord, help us learn and understand Italian culture.” We recognized early on that our ability to connect the Gospel of Christ to Italian lives is intricately connected to understanding culture.

The author Annie Dillard once asked, “Why do people in churches seem like cheerful, brainless tourists on a packaged tour of the Absolute?” It’s easy to take a hurried and shallow look at God and miss the amazing. It’s just as easy to take a hurried and shallow look at culture and miss it’s depths. Each day, we try not to “do culture” like people “do God.” Rather, we try to allow God to open our eyes and our minds to see what “tourists” might miss.

Culture is a funny thing however. It’s a bit complex and can be difficult to get our arms around it.  But it’s worth studying because along the way we grow to better understand places, people, God and ourselves. One way of describing culture can be to identify patterns. Every culture be that a national culture or a sub-culture such as a particular business group or social group have engrained patterns that inform who they are…it’s our jobs as missionaries to learn and grow to understand the culture(s) we find ourselves in. 

As we approach our 4th full month of learning how to live here in Italy, we’ve been reflecting on a few of the differences in culture that we’ve experienced. Each day we gain cultural insights; and more often than not the assumptions that we brought over with us are not the whole picture. Here are just a few cultural differences we’ve experienced.

  1. Efficiency. “When in Italy – doubt” should be Italy’s catchphrase. When you move to Italy you have to unlearn everything you’ve ever known about things happening in a common-sense sequential manner and you have to learn the new system of nobody knows how things work, when, or why. It’s fascinating. Very little seems to be intuitive and you can’t easily figure stuff out without asking people. In order to thrive you really must hold EVERYTHING with open hands. Just because you can pay that bill at the Post Office doesn’t mean the next bill that you receive can be paid there.
  2. Space. The US is enormous so it’s no surprise that Americans are accustomed to space. Big cars, big houses, big yards, and about two feet of space between themselves and other people all the time. Italy is not gigantic and in most cities here the people live packed into a small apartment. They don’t require the same personal space. One of the first things that we noticed when we first arrived is that strangers touched me (and our kids) all the time and nobody says, “sorry” or “excuse me.” At first it seemed rude, but then we realized later that it’s because there is simply nothing to be sorry for. Sometimes you run into other people….and that’s that. We won’t even get into driving here…suffice it say…there’s no space…either go or get out of the way.
  3. Levels of neurosis. Italian culture is pretty calm compared to American culture (in SOME things). Things that would send a typical American into cardiac arrest usually won’t get more than a shrug from an Italian. For example, bad dinner service. If an American has to wait more than ten minutes to order he’s going to burn down the restaurant. In Italy? Calm down! The waiter will get here eventually (after twenty five minutes). Cutting in line…well, it’s just your fault for not protecting your space. It’s the same with chaotic driving (couldn’t resist) or an array of other things that seem like the end of the world to Americans. Italy seems to understands the concept of taking things in stride and choosing what you get up in arms over. Now…if a child hurts themselves…look out, you’ll have every parent in the room tripping over themselves to make sure that the child is ok.

To really understand culture, and to interact with it in a way that can bring profound change, but as we are learning, it’s not enough to simply observe the differences in culture. We must go deeper by asking ourselves, “Why do people behave that way?”  That question looks for meaning it looks for values that are held by a people group. Below the surface, below observing differences, are the things that influence behavior, and if we desire to see change and transformation that will be significant and durable for any of us, the change must take place below the surface – at a heart level. 

We recognize we have a ways to go before we enter into heart level spaces and conversations – but we continue to be students of culture. We are grateful for the cultural guides God has put before us who can translate culture and give us insight into the “why.”

But to be real honest some things may just continue to ever be veiled in deep mystery – like, how is it 90 degrees outside and you’re still wearing a scarf…and jacket?!?!

Ciao from Italy!!

We made it! It’s hard to believe that we have been here for almost 2 months!! Our transition has been all sorts of things: fun, challenging, exciting, frustrating, fast, slow, and everything in between. Needless to say, we’re grateful to be here. We have seen God show up in remarkable ways over the past two months. We’re thankful for his faithfulness and provision as we’ve navigated the ins and outs of life in Italy. As we’ve said before, Italy is wonderfully complex. We are learning, and yet, we still have so much more to learn. As we get acquainted with our city we wanted to give you a little taste of our neighborhood and day to day life. Here are a couple of pictures to give you a little idea of what Perugia and our neighborhood of MonteLuce looks like.

Our street.


Chiesa di MonteLuce – our neighborhood church.


“Universita per Stranieri” – Our Language School


Etruscan Arch – This was built in the 3rd Century B.C.


Piazza IV Novembre – The heart of Perugia.


Rocca Paolina – built as a symbol of strength and defiance against Rome.

Thank you for your prayers and your words of encouragement over the past couple months. We’ll update more soon (we’re still waiting for internet to be set up). God’s already gave us some key connections and sweet relationships. Can’t wait to share more soon!