The Heart of the Foreigner

Learning compassion from outsider experiences

Written by Andrea Nwabuike

My first experience of truly being a foreigner was in 2019. My family has gone on several international trips, but this was different. It was my first mother-daughter trip, my first time travelling to South America. My mom and I travelled to São Paulo for a church member’s wedding. 

My usual response to the unfamiliar is to overthink and prepare for the worst-case scenario, but the trip to Brazil triggered a level of excitement that left little room for anxiety. Our planning went only as far as booking accommodations and buying local currency—but where our preparations were lacking, spontaneity, hospitality, and adventure were in full supply. 

We relied on screenshots of directions from Google Maps to plan our route from one site to another, nearly burning holes into our shoes from all the ground we covered on foot. Every missed road or wrong turn was an opportunity to discover another beautiful part of the city. We were surprised how few people spoke English, so we resorted to wild and comical gestures to order food in restaurants. 

My time in São Paulo was deeply enjoyable, but it was not free of difficulty. The skills and knowledge that make life easy in Canada were irrelevant there. Frequent miscommunication became frustrating, and adjusting to a new environment was tiring. As nice as our hotel was, it could not match the comfort of home. By the final day of the trip, although we were grateful for the experience, we were ready to go home. 

It can be painful and scary to find yourself in such a different context. The sense you don’t fully fit in, that you can’t fully be at ease, is disorienting. The foreigner is often in a unique position of vulnerability, either benefiting from the kindness of others or suffering under their lack of it. Surprisingly, such vulnerability can help us draw near to the heart of God. 

Israel’s experience as foreigners in Egypt was a foundational aspect of their relationship with God as it highlighted their need to continually depend on him as the source of their protection and justice. They could not rely on their own strength to overcome the oppression and cruelty of their hosts. 

Only at this point of weakness did Israel come to a deeper knowledge of the character of God and his love for them. Enduring the pains of being in a strange land and receiving the blessings of a kind God softened their hearts towards the strangers and sojourners in their midst. They were to invite the foreigner into their celebrations and festivals, share out of the abundance of their harvests and other resources, and deal justly as they would with a fellow Israelite.  

When we are in the needy position of being a foreign outsider, whether we move voluntarily or we’re forced to, we can look to follow the example of the Israelites. When we are comfortable, it’s easy to overestimate our own strength and feel overly reliant on ourselves. God can seem farther away. We need experiences of being an outsider to remind us that our knowledge and ability can fail—the world is so much larger than our own bubbles. 

Of course not everyone shares my ability to travel and don the short-lived foreignness of a tourist. It’s a privilege—one made easier by the kindness of my church member’s family and friends and the knowledge I would return to the ease of home in a few days.

Compare that to the Israelites in Egypt and to immigrants and refugees today. Imagine trying to find a permanent sense of home in an environment that is becoming hostile and rife with anti-immigrant sentiments

Our opportunities to place ourselves outside our comfort zones may be much smaller, but we can still be intentional about them. For example, we can choose to worship with believers outside our denomination and seek discipleship with believers from different generations. 

In all of these experiences we can seek to be reminded how we can rely on others, and ultimately our Heavenly Father, to carry us through. Adopting the heart of the foreigner enables us to see the more vulnerable among us with compassion and to rest in the compassion God has for all of us.

Andrea Nwabuike is a Nigerian-Canadian mental health counsellor and writer living in Toronto. Read more of her columns at loveismoving.ca/manycultures.