Praying for my TCKs❤️

They allowed me to enter into their world as TCKs (Third Culture Kids), man did I learn.

I learned through the makeshift bow and arrows, Malagasy songs sung in the back of a pick-up truck, the fish eyeballs and Malagasy fruit they forced into my mouth because they knew I hadn’t tried either before, the dance parties, the “Malagasy language tests” they would give me as we walked home, the meals they would cook for themselves and for their friends and the way they prayed for each other.

But I also learned from their upset stomachs, tears from bullies who reminded them that they were “different”, the small comments of the friends or things they missed or will miss because they are “here and not there” and the tight hugs they gave because their house door can often feel like a revolving door.

I love them all so much. I love their aches and pains and their perspective of the world. Sometimes they don’t know just how special their childhood is but they will ❤️

Praying for my TC kiddos and I encourage you all do too!