copyright Caroline Kishbaugh 2025
I have faced many changes and transitions during my 40 years of serving overseas. Cultural adaptation, new locations, new ministry roles, and lifespan changes are a few of the things I’ve experienced. Moving back to the USA has made me aware that you don’t have to leave your home country to encounter change and transition. Let’s face it, they are a normal part of life from childhood through adulthood.
Recently my little grandson started pre-school. That was a huge transition for him. For the first few weeks he would have meltdowns each time his mother picked him up. He was overwhelmed. Someone once said, change is what happens on the outside, but transition is what takes place on the inside. Over the years not only have I faced my own internal struggles with change, but I’ve had the privilege of accompanying others on their journeys. Here are some things I have experienced and learned along the way.
Transition doesn’t really start the moment the new begins, (like getting on the airplane, the first day at a new job, the moment the baby is born) but when you know it’s going to happen; often long before the event.
There are different phases in walking through transition. The first one is often called the leaving phase. I use the image of a hot air balloon to describe the transition process. The moment a decision is made, or awareness of an upcoming event happens, it’s natural to begin to disengage. In the leaving phase you begin to untie the ropes that hold your balloon on the ground. Saying goodbye to different aspects of the familiar and all that you will be leaving behind is important. Untying the ropes of present roles, relationships and familiar things will more than likely start a grieving process. With every change there will be anticipated losses. We knew that moving overseas meant saying goodbye to family and dear friends. The moments at the airport were often the hardest. Waving goodbye at the security check always left me with a deep pain in my stomach. I anticipated grief. But what I didn’t anticipate was the many goodbyes I would have to say on the field when co-workers left. Even though they were the ones leaving, it still represented change for those of us that they left behind. I had to acknowledge the loss and realize I was grieving too. When the good-byes accumulate it is so easy to build walls to protect us from further pain, making us less apt to invest deeply in the lives of others. That’s why it’s so important to intentionally give space to admit the pain of loss.
During the leaving phase it’s important to build a RAFT. RAFT stands for reconciliation, affirmation, farewells and think destination. When you take the time to reconcile past hurts, to affirm the good takeaways, to intentionally say good-bye to special people, things and the familiar, and to think about different aspects of your future, you will be better equipped to face the coming new realities.
I think reconciliation is vital in the leaving phase. We have had the opportunity to debrief many cross-cultural workers over the years, listening to their stories and hearing of their celebrations and hardships. It’s interesting to see how many times people move on to the next phase of ministry without reconciling past hurts, making unspoken vows to protect from future pain. Vows like, “I won’t trust a leader again.” “I prefer to work alone rather than on a team.” During the debriefing process often, these vows come to the surface and the wounds are addressed.
Why do I think affirmation is important? When we take the time to appreciate all that we have learned about God, ourselves, and others it makes the grief we feel have purpose. Why would we grieve over people and things that have no value to us? I love to give children who are leaving the field a picture of an empty moving van. I ask them to draw pictures of places, people, foods, and events that they never want to forget. I tell them that no one can take these precious memories away. They can affirm the good and leave with a grateful heart. Farewells are so important, but they are not easy. When relationships run deep the farewell parties can be times of tears and good-bye hugs. They can bring a sweet closure to a significant time in life. After a farewell party, I still remember tearfully waving goodbye to the group of our French neighbors standing on the banks of the village road. That memory is imprinted in my mind forever.
In the leaving phase our minds often lead us to think about the future. It feels like you have one foot in the present and the other foot in the future. As it drew closer to our final days in France, I found myself feeling guilty for the times I spent thinking about the future instead of feeling sad for the people I would leave behind. I didn’t want to share my excitement about living nearer to our children and grandchildren in the States. We started looking online at potential houses in Columbus and discussed what kind of church community we needed, but rarely talked about it with our teammates. I didn’t want them to think I didn’t care. While I was sad to leave, I had to face the fact that it was also ok to look with excitement to the future.
Think back to the image of the hot air balloon. Sometimes we don’t have the luxury of slowly untying the ropes. It’s like someone takes a hatchet and severs all the ropes in a moment and you are airborne. We have had the honor of debriefing workers who have had to quickly pack their bags and evacuate their country of service due to political unrest. Much like Joseph they didn’t have the chance to prepare for the transition. On the very same day he went to meet his brothers he was sold as a slave and taken to Egypt. It’s still vital to take the time even after the unexpected event to reflect and process what happened. God knew Joseph was thrust into a new journey that day; and as he was with Joseph, God will be there throughout our transitions, comforting us in our grief, offering us grace, and giving us direction.
The second phase of transition is often called the wilderness. Now the hot air balloon is airborne. You may not know where you will land. We often use a chart with words to describe this phase. It’s not unusual for people to identify with phrases like, “special knowledge without use, lack of structure, must initiate, and feelings of isolation.” In this phase it is normal for our capacities to shrink because we are in a survival mode. We have a limited energy for new relationships and behaviors. After we finished our term in Haiti, we spent two years wondering where we would go next. Those were some of the darkest days of our journey. I just had our second child. Carl was busy with seminary studies. I felt isolated at home with two small children in a new city. Knowing we would probably leave again we were hesitant to develop new relationships. Thankfully a loving church community embraced us in those challenging days and ministered to our needs. What a gift of grace!
Connie Befus, who wrote a manual for missionaries called the Sojourner’s Workbook: A Guide to Thriving, states we must learn to adapt in several different domains during transition. It impacts us relationally, intellectually, physically, and behaviorally. Have you ever noticed how physically tired you become during a time of transition or how much easier it is to get sick? We often find ourselves less apt to meet new people and maintain old relationships. Our minds are absorbing new skills and learning new behaviors, so we find ourselves mentally shutting down when it gets to be too much. Our identity can be called into question. God can use this as an opportunity to help us better anchor our identity in him. When I started learning French during our first term, I am sure I sounded like a toddler babbling out new words. Simply knowing how to ask for stamps at the post office was monumental. I wanted to say to people, I’m really not simple minded, I was an effective teacher, I led small groups, and wrote papers in college on complicated issues. I had to settle my heart that my identity was not based on my language competence but on how Jesus saw me and how He valued my efforts to serve Him through the tedious task of learning a new language.
People do best when they realize all this wilderness craziness is normal and acknowledge how God is with them every step of the way. A struggle can appear when we try to find a simple explanation for the complicated transition process. I have seen people blame their wilderness craziness on their leader, the new culture, their church, a co-worker, a spouse etc. While some aspects of their disappointment may be merited, it is often out of proportion. It is much healthier to normalize what we are feeling and embrace grace than try and find a scapegoat.
Finally, our hot air balloon settles on the ground, and we start to tie down our ropes once again. But even in this entering phase we still must initiate new relationships, face uncertainty, and take risks. I have found that people do best when they recognize and celebrate each milestone: A year after we arrived in France, I needed to pass a French driver’s test to get a viable license. That required professional driving lessons. The lessons were expensive, and the instructors were taught to humiliate their students to get the best results. I didn’t find that style of instruction very helpful. Needless to say, it was probably one of the most stressful parts of adapting to France. The day I passed my exam, I sang praises to Jesus all the way home in the car. Carl knew by the way I walked up the sidewalk to the front steps that I had passed. We celebrated the victory that night by going to McDonalds! I often encourage first time missionaries to start a milestone journal. Every so often when they get discouraged and think they are not making progress in cultural adaptation or language acquisition, I encourage them to look back over all the milestones they have passed and celebrate them. Taking time to celebrate is a way of showing gratitude for all God has done and will continue to do. While the changes and transitions in our lives may be challenging, they are also great opportunities for personal growth. They can nurture our ability to empathize with and encourage others facing transition. Perhaps this article has done that for you!

