Breaking Out of the Bubble: Living Between Worlds

by Lierte Soares

I got out of the bubble.

That's the best way I can describe what happened to me over the past years as I've worked alongside Americans—in both education and ministry. It hasn't been easy, and it hasn't been simple. There's a wall between immigrants and Americans that's real, though not always visible. It's made up of cultural misunderstandings, assumptions, and unspoken fears. You don't really see it until you bump into it—and even then, it takes humility and patience to begin to climb over it.

Lierte as a boy in Brazil.

As a Third Culture Kid (TCK), living between cultures was my normal. For me, crossing that wall came easier than it did for my parents. The first generation of immigrants, like my mom and dad, often faces the hardest challenges—learning a new language, understanding a new system, and constantly proving their worth in spaces that don't always see them. The second generation, however, grows up navigating two worlds—fluent in both, but sometimes fully at home in neither. I've learned to see both sides: the resilience of the first generation and the adaptability of the second. Each carries a different burden, but both are part of God's beautiful story of grace and perseverance.

My own journey has woven together education and ministry in a way that continually reminds me how transformation begins with understanding. As an ESL (English as a Second Language) educator in the MetroWest Boston area, I've witnessed firsthand how learning a new language can change a person's entire trajectory. At Framingham Adult ESL+, where thousands of immigrants from all over the world come together to learn English, hope comes alive in the classroom every day. It's not just about grammar and pronunciation—it's about confidence, connection, and belonging. When a student learns how to tell their story in a new language, their world expands. They find their voice, and with it, a sense of dignity and possibility. The impact of Framingham Adult ESL+ reaches far beyond Massachusetts; it's a model of how education can build bridges and empower communities.

Lierte Soares today, serving in New England.

In ministry, I've seen those same bridges being built, though sometimes with greater resistance. Within the Southern Baptist Convention (SBC), cultural diversity continues to challenge and stretch us. There are moments of tension between long-standing traditions and the vibrant realities of immigrant churches. Yet, I believe the SBC's future depends on learning to fully embrace the nations that God has brought to America. The church must not only send missionaries abroad—it must also listen and learn from the mission field that now lives among us.

My life has been shaped by communities that understood this calling. River of Life Worship Center in Louisiana welcomed me from Brazil and believed in God's mission beyond borders. They didn't just receive me; they sent me—to New England, a region steeped in American Christian history yet yearning for renewal. That kind of faith-filled partnership is what true Kingdom collaboration looks like.

Now, serving at New Life Community Church in Georgetown, Massachusetts, I've encountered a congregation that embodies the love and hospitality of Christ. Founded by converts from the ministry of George Whitefield, this church carries a deep historical legacy—and a living passion to reach the present generation. Their openness to different cultures and genuine care for people have deeply inspired me. In a region often described as spiritually dry, New Life is a well of warmth, faith, and hope.

I have hope for America's future. Not because we've overcome every barrier, but because I see God at work in classrooms, churches, and communities where love transcends language and culture. I see it in an ESL student's first confident sentence, in a church's willingness to welcome difference, and in leaders learning to walk humbly together.

It's in that sacred space—where honesty meets hope—that I believe God is doing something new. The walls are still there, but they're beginning to crack. And every time we choose humility, empathy, and faith over fear, we help build something stronger: the kind of community that reflects the heart of Jesus.

I may have gotten out of the bubble, but I didn't leave it behind. I carry with me the lessons, the love, and the legacy of those who sacrificed so I could stand where I do today. And for that, I am deeply grateful.

Cover image: “Calder Footbridge” via Flickr (CC BY 2.0).