Even the Thai Ronald McDonald knows how to show respect...Thailand 2011 My younger sister and I sat at a coffee shop in Cambodia. Our caffeinated brains buzzed while we discussed what it means to transition through life as an MK. “Abby, I don’t understand what the big deal about being a missionary kid is. We’re … Continue reading MK: Who Am I, Really?
I wrote a poem as a bitter fourteen- year old missionary kid. It was about a flower that never got solid roots, because it kept getting ripped out and re-planted in new places. Since then, I’ve often struggled to feel like I have a home or a certain place I belong. I’ll never forget once … Continue reading MK: I Am Home
During one furlough I was helping a friend clean the church. She and I each had vacuums. She plugged in her vacuum and started to sweep when she saw me standing and looking at my vacuum. She asked what was wrong and I bashfully responded that I didn’t know how to use a vacuum. She … Continue reading MK: I AM Enough
“The thought of living in America kind of scares me. Like that’s America… That’s where I get laughed at if I do something culturally wrong. That’s where people grow complacent about missions. That’s where people complain about things that others in the world will never have. That’s where I don’t fit in. That’s where I’ll … Continue reading MK: I Am Understood.