Missionary kid (MK). Third culture kid (TCK). I claim both those phrases, for they help me to understand where I come from and to marvel at God’s surprises along my journey.
MK (Missionary Kid): I was born in the Belgian Congo (now the Democratic Republic of Congo) to missionary parents – my mother a nurse and teacher, and my father a pastor and builder. They were highly motivated to carry out the responsibilities they felt God had given them.
Although I grew up in a missionary family, I did not sense a calling to missionary service. However, after college and obtaining my credentials as a secondary-level teacher, I was invited back to Congo for a short-term assignment in the missionary school I had attended as a child.
I enjoyed that experience so much that I transferred to a Congolese high school where
I remained for two more wonderful years teaching a variety of courses, as well as gathering with the women students for Bible study, singing, games, and food – theirs and mine. Seeing the great need for high school teachers in the local schools and wanting to share God’s life-affirming grace that I was experiencing, I enrolled at North Park Theological Seminary for the one-year preparation mandated for career missionaries.
In June of that year, our denomination had voted to ordain women for pastoral ministry. Although I had experienced no such desire or interest, conversations with God, my colleagues, and faculty opened this possibility to me. I completed the Master of Divinity program and was ordained for ministry. And at that point, my call changed – not to global missions but rather to parish ministry.
After ministering in three different parish settings – each with their joys and heartaches – I sensed a call to chaplaincy and served as a hospital chaplain until my retirement.
And now, TCK (Third Culture Kid): I spent most of my first 15 years in a missionary community surrounded by Congolese folks from various tribal groups. “Home” for my two brothers and me was hard to identify, in that we felt we belonged neither to the American world of our parents nor to the Congolese world they felt God had called them to. Ours was a third world, or third culture. I learned to live in the two worlds – the American and the Congolese – as best I could, discerning what was appropriate behavior and language in each world and trying hard to measure up.
From this early sense of disjuncture, I find that when I enter a new setting, I still tend to anticipate discomfort and an ill fit. When, instead, I sense a welcome and am able to find commonalities, I’m taken by surprise and delight.
Further help in finding my way has been spiritual direction. In my first parish as a solo pastor, I realized I needed someone to accompany me as I sought to trace God’s presence in my world. Since then, journeying with the spiritual directors who have accompanied me over the years led me to seek this training. And now in retirement, I serve as a Stephen Minister through our church.
I am continuing to learn how to listen with curiosity and to respond with compassion as I come to know folks in other new worlds. Like so many who feel marginalized and not-belonging, I know a bit of what that feels like. That’s why I said ‘yes’ when I was invited by a friend to join the board of the former Journey Center of Chicago and now Journey Center Great Lakes.
I like to belong, and I’m curious and eager to broaden my world. I have learned much through the Enneagram and other workshops. And sharing with others in morning prayer and retreats has helped me feel at home here. To me, the Journey Center feels like a welcoming space for those seeking to know more of the Holy One’s limitless worlds. And, perhaps, by God’s grace and mercy, to find a home.
