Early summer mornings in South Carolina are comfortable before the humidity hits. That’s where I sat in 2014, house-sitting for a friend, watching neighbors drive to work. After nearly a decade in Central Asia and another decade in pastoral ministry before that, I had 20+ years of leadership experience: strategic planning, team development, cross-cultural communication, budget management, conflict resolution.

But to American hiring managers, my résumé just said: “Did church stuff and lived in a foreign country for a long time.”

At 48, I started wondering if my vocational life was over.

Karen Swallow Prior, author of You Have a Calling (and a recent guest on the Global Trellis podcast), writes: “As human beings, we certainly have an innate need for significance, but that’s exactly why we must guard against making decisions based on our need to feel important.”

She’s right. The marketplace’s inability to validate my experience triggered a deep need for significance—and I was about to make some unwise career-moves as a result.

The Résumé That Doesn’t Translate

You’ve lived and worked cross-culturally. You know the gap. You’ve built something significant—you’ve led teams through crises, navigated impossible complexity, coached leaders, built systems from scratch in resource-scarce environments. 

You’ve accomplished things most people can’t imagine.

But when you return to your passport country, that experience often feels like it translates to… nothing.

The interviews blur together. The same polite questions. The same subtle skepticism. The same inevitable letdown. You realize the marketplace doesn’t have a category for what you’ve done.

The deeper question isn’t “What job should I apply for?” or even “Am I unemployable?”

It’s this: What am I even made to do?

The Wrong Answers

Like many returning workers, I tried everything. I landed a nonprofit development director role—it should have been perfect, right? Great Commission -minded donors, work I understood, leading people I knew how to lead.

I was drowning from day one.

Not because I couldn’t do it—I could. I met my KPIs (I learned to speak the lingo and this means Key Performance Indicators), raised the money, ran the meetings. But I finished every day exhausted in a way that had nothing to do with the hours worked. It was like pushing a boulder uphill, every single day.

Then freelance copywriting. Then managing a coffee shop. Each role was the same: I was capable, I produced results, but something was fundamentally off. Like wearing jeans that were technically the right size but cut for someone else’s body.

I blamed myself. I should be better at this. More focused. More resilient. After surviving a decade in challenging cross-cultural environments, surely I could handle a “normal” job?

The problem wasn’t effort. It was an alignment issue.

It’s Good to Know You’ve Got a Friend

A friend, indeed. He’d watched me cycle through jobs and finally said what others were probably thinking: “You’re trying to fit yourself into roles instead of finding roles that fit you.”

I pushed back. “I’m being strategic. Looking at what’s available.”

“Yeah,” he said. “But you’re unhappy.”

He asked a question I hadn’t let myself ask: “When was the last time work actually energized you?”

I thought back—not to jobs, but to moments.
Sitting with a stuck leader, helping them see a path forward.
Watching someone’s face change when complexity suddenly made sense.
Taking a tangled mess of competing priorities and finding the throughline that made everything clear.

That’s when it clicked. I’ve been asking the wrong question!

Wrong question: Of all the jobs available, which ones am I qualified for?

Right questions:

—What gives my work meaning?

—What am I naturally, world-class good at?

—How do I create value?

You Have a Career Sweet Spot, Too!

Most career advice treats these as separate questions. Personality assessments tell you your type. StrengthsFinder shows your strengths. Career coaches ask about your goals.

But nobody shows you how it all fits together.

Your Career Sweet Spot is where three circles overlap:

Purpose — What kind of impact makes work worth doing for you? For some it’s building things. For others it’s solving problems, creating beauty, connecting people. For me? Helping people get unstuck. When I do this, work matters. When I don’t, work is just… work.

Strengths — This isn’t about what you’re good at. It’s what energizes you. What comes naturally? Where do you create disproportionate impact without disproportionate effort? For me: seeing patterns, connecting ideas, designing pathways, simplifying complexity. These things don’t exhaust me—they fuel me.

Contribution Mode — How do you naturally add value? Through execution? Innovation? Connection? I create value as a guide—listening, clarifying, helping people make confident decisions. Not building the thing. Not managing the operations. Guiding people to see what to build next.

When all three of these align, everything changes.

For Cross-Cultural Workers

Here’s what I’ve learned coaching other returning workers: The marketplace doesn’t understand us because we’re not easily categorized. But that doesn’t mean we’re unemployable!

It means we need to understand ourselves differently.

Your cross-cultural experience is not a liability—it’s given you capabilities most people lack. You navigate ambiguity. You read complex situations. You build trust across differences. You create clarity in chaos.

The question today is: What’s your unique sweet spot for using your God-given capabilities?

You might be wired to:

—Guide leaders through strategic decisions (not execute their plans)

—Design systems and processes (not manage day-to-day operations)

—Facilitate difficult conversations (not avoid conflict)

—Coach teams through change (not maintain stability)

When you find work that fits your wiring—where purpose, strengths, and contribution mode align—you stop grinding and start thriving.

You’re Not Ruined

At 48, sitting on that porch, I thought my career was over.I was wrong. I needed a map, and a nudge in the right direction. If you’re wondering if you’re ruined for a “normal” job, maybe you are (hey, just being honest), but you’re not ruined for meaningful contributions.