People may think that kids of missionaries don’t contribute to God’s call with their families, but that the calling is only for the parents. That is not what I saw at CAG (Christian Academy of Guatemala). Our first missions project, as the sixth-grade class, turned out to be a great learning experience for all of us. After we shared our perspectives of our time with the family in La Rosa, I asked the kids to write in their journals. I prayed that the project would have a life-changing effect upon them, and what I read in the journals indicated that my prayers were answered. I’ve copied below several of their written comments.

“It made me think about how fortunate I am to have everything I need. It was a wonderful experience. I will never forget it.”

“I felt so sorry for them because they were so poor, but I also felt ashamed because I realized that I really was spoiled, and I still want more when they have nothing.”

“We had the chance to help others and witness about Christ to them.”

“My greatest experience was seeing how grateful and happy the people were when we gave them the food.”

“I saw the ladies’ faces light up because of all the food they needed.”

“I am willing to help them as much as I can. I would give all that I have to make them happy.”

“I want to get them on fire for the Lord.”

“I almost started to cry when I looked into the girls’ faces and saw their joy. I did not think anybody could have joy in that place.”

“I feel God is telling me to help them.”

“It made me feel so rich and thankful.”

Deeply touched by this experience, it made all of us aware that we wanted to share the love of the Lord to the hurting and the needy. This wasn’t a happily ever after time that ended the struggles of the MKs (missionary children). It did, however, give them a missionary perspective—the main reason their families were in Guatemala. They had participated in the missionary experience and wanted more. We continued to help the La Rosa family as a class, and with other individuals who became involved with our project. Someone provided a water drain system to catch rain water into a fifty-gallon barrel for their private use. Later, another donation provided a faucet that tapped into the town water system. A small block room with a concrete floor was built for added protection and comfort for the six occupants. Others donated money for the land, that secured them their home and peace in their hearts, knowing they wouldn’t be homeless again.

This pre-teen class shined like the sun in their ministry with our foster family and in other ministries through out the school year. Eric Johnson from Bethel Assembly in Redding, California once said, “Ministry is not what you do but who you are.” We were all in this process of finding out who we were. These third-culture kids tapped into their hearts and realized they were doing the same things Jesus did when He walked this earth: helping others. They could make a positive difference in the lives of others. I’ve learned that any of us can make a difference where ever we are if we keep our eyes open to the people and needs around us.

“I hate it here in Guatemala. I miss my friends, and I want to go back home,” sobbed Anita. (Her name has been changed.) The eyes of every sixth-grader were riveted on me for my response. How could I calm this hurting heart?

“I know how you feel,” I gently responded. “I left a job I loved, my family, my friends, and three grandchildren to come here to teach. The adjustment will be difficult, but let’s do it together. We can ask for the Lord’s help, because He said He’d be here for us. We are here in response to Him.” She gave me a half smile as her eyes softened through the tears.

Anita’s reaction was typical with missionary children. (I’ve chosen to use this term, because I feel God’s calls both the children and their parents.) From my perspective, her cries were real but I didn’t know how to counsel her. I came to Guatemala by choice, but it sounded like she didn’t have a choice. I wanted to know more about MKs, so I started doing some research.

Missionary kids leave their familiar culture and do not grow up in it, because they have moved to a foreign country. Thrown into a new culture, they are seen as visitors. They are literally in this culture, but not a part of it. The MKs are stranded in-between the two cultures looking for a life raft. Third-culture kids was a term coined in the 1950s to describe what happens to these in-betweeners. They develop their own place to belong; an emotionally and mentally painful process for most of them. They face a testing time when they go back to their parent’s home country for a visit. The children find the social rules and customs are different, and they identify little with their birth country. Family members treat them as visitors, just as the indigenous do. Of course, there are varying degrees of this, depending on how long the child has been out of their family’s country

My classroom at CAG (Christian Academy of Guatemala) contained ninety percent of these children. I knew I would see the struggles of these MKs as they became global citizens. Wikipedia defines a global citizen: “as a person who places their identity with a ‘global community’ above their identity as a citizen of a particular nation or place.” CAG was considered a third-culture environment, and my students would need to make many adjustment to find their sense of belonging. On top of that, their scholastic education had to be fitted into the picture as well. I faced a great learning curve right along with those kids. With the grace of God, I wanted to help each youngster in my care to grab hold of how important they were to our Lord. God had a plan for their lives, and He would help them walk it out.

It is said that until you walk in someone else’s shoes, you can’t truly understand what that person is going through. I could only imagine what each of these children felt as they joined the mix of global citizens. The information I needed to help them didn’t come with my master’s degree. But God had a plan, and we could trust Him. He guided me and the MKs that year in incredible ways. We grew together in our learning.

I’m sure there are some of you readers who have had the experience of being an MK, or know of someone who went through similar situations. I’d love to hear your story. We have MKs here at Shadow, and I know the parents would enjoy reading any of your responses.