This week, Lynnsi Wagner flips the script on what sacrifice means for TCKs and ATCKs. Those on the outside of our experiences may view our lives through the lens of their culture and comfort when in reality, the TCK’s struggles run deeper than simply living in “a hard place.” All TCKs and ATCKs who read Lynnsi’s words will understand and identify with many of the struggles Lynnsi lists.
My family is sitting in yet another supporting church, listening to the familiar awe in a donor’s voice as she looks at each of my family members and me.
“Thank you for all that you’ve sacrificed to go do God’s good work over there!”
I smile and mirror the emotion in the donor’s eyes but inside I’m thinking, “My parents are doing God’s good work. I’m just a kid!” The sacrifices I most identified with were probably not what donors often picture.
Being a Missionary Kid since birth, all I knew and cared about was my world in East Africa. The sacrifices the donor and other financial partners often thanked my family for were things like:
- Missing extended family, family I’d never really known well during childhood anyway.
- Living in a “hard place” in “that third world country.” Less gracious versions of me actually get pretty offended at this one. That’s my home, and I’m glad it doesn’t have a culture of waste and consumerism like the US.
- The opportunities missed because I couldn’t be a “normal” American kid, which I didn’t mind so much anyway. I actually preferred being home in Uganda. It gave me a unique, broadened perspective on the world.
What I really felt was sacrificed couldn’t always be put into words as a child. Now, sitting here in a US coffee shop as an adult TCK, hindsight is closer to 20/20. These were the sacrifices that felt most real to me:
- Growing up after 4th grade without my older brothers. They had to go to boarding school to get the education and community opportunities they needed.
- Confusion and higher stress when we visited the US. This is interesting, since many Americans thought I was visiting “home.”
- Witnessing a terribly violent act towards another human while at the center of a mob.
- Seeing the severity of deep poverty and realizing I would have to reconcile that when I came back to what appeared to be an excessively wealthy United States. The US has about 32% of the world’s wealth, but only about 4.3% of the world’s population.
- Watching multiple best friends move to different countries, or leaving them myself when I moved.
- Seeing one of those best friends emotionally abused by her missionary father, without accountability from the community or sending organization.
- Watching the parent of a TCK walk through intense depression for years–brought on by ministry-related circumstances–without the level of care they needed.
Then there are the other common TCK struggles like figuring out where “home” really is or not being able to fully call a country my own since my ethnicity and cultural upbringing didn’t have a place on the map to point to.
These were the real sacrifices. Not the ones donors thanked us for, nor the ones that fit neatly into our fun Sunday school presentations.
The sacrifices of MKs are often quiet, invisible, and misunderstood. They don’t sound heroic, but they shape us deeply. Living abroad can have different costs than what people may imagine.
And yet, many of us wouldn’t trade it away. The same experiences that cut may also carve out empathy, resilience, and perspective that we may not have learned otherwise. They may make us see the world’s hurt and brokenness up close, but also its cultural diversity and beauty.
So when people say, “Thank you for your sacrifice,” I smile. Not because they’ve named it correctly, but because they’ve noticed something true: there was sacrifice. Maybe not the kind they picture, but the kind that left marks on my story, my faith, and my identity. And now, as an ATCK, I’m learning how to hold both–the loss and the gift–without diminishing the significance of either.
Lynnsi grew up for 18 years in Jinja, Uganda and Kijabe, Kenya. She now lives in Pennsylvania with her ATCK husband, and has enjoyed using her experience to invest in TCKs and their families through her role at Interaction International.
