Jesus in the Corner

I was sick to my stomach. I couldn’t believe that I had prepared so completely for our trip but had forgotten a very important detail.

The night before I stood nauseous at the Icelandair’s ticket counter, my husband and I had been running around our home in Iceland, cleaning, packing, and weighing luggage. We were all looking forward to this two-month trip to the States for Christmas, my sister’s wedding, and more (and a lot of Chick-fil-A, of course!).

That night, my husband asked for the passports, and as I pulled them out, an alarming thought came to mind. My youngest son’s birthday was coming up in January. I gasped with piercing realization—children’s passports only lasted five years. He was turning six and got his first passport at the ripe old age of three months old. The passport had expired nine months before.

The flight was in the morning, and we didn’t know if our son would be able to go because of this terrible oversight on our part. The kids had been counting down the days to our trip. Our youngest son, especially, was so excited about seeing his Nana and others. There was no time to make a change or to request permission from the embassy. All we could do was gather all our documents, finish packing, and pray. Lots of praying. And crying.

Now you see why my stomach twisted in knots as we stood waiting for the ticket agent to get in contact with Border Control. As each agonizing minute ticked by, different scenarios flitted across my mind. What would we do if this didn’t work out?

In the middle of our turmoil, our older son came to us with a serene look on his face. He said that Jesus would take care of this. As soon as he’d heard about the situation, he said he walked to the corner between the wall and the ticket counter and started praying. He knew that it would all work out.

And it did.

We were granted a one-time courtesy to travel to the States on that expired passport. The tears of relief flowed freely. But what settled in my heart the most was the gratitude that I felt over the words of my son. My ten-year-old, third culture kid didn’t get caught up in the emotions, but instead, he stepped into a corner and took the issue to Jesus.

This moment was such a beautiful reminder of what my kids have gleaned over the years. Yes, they still struggle in many ways as they miss family and friends, navigate language and educational issues, and are pulled in between two different places. But in that early morning obstacle at the airport, my son showed me that in the midst of our imperfect efforts, God has been anchoring their faith and teaching them how to tuck in and meet him in the corners of their days.

We may not always feel like we are equipped to function in those hinges or within those in-between spots. Yet the children growing up in different cultures and seasons and stages are being invited to find anchor beyond their physical locations or perfect situations.

My kids have experienced God’s provision, have seen miracles come to pass, and have mastered the tongue of their grandparents. But they have also grappled with their visible differences, struggled in the midst of their learning difficulties, and grieved multiple moments of transition.

Even as I write this, we are preparing to head back to Iceland after a couple of months in the States. I may have shed a tear a time or two (okay, twenty) as I watched them engage on this side of the ocean.

What I am learning from them goes beyond their obvious resilience. It actually seems to look more like a resting place. While many of us grasp for stability or for some sustenance to hold on to, TCKs are learning how to find Jesus in the pockets and margins, the crevices and the corners. My husband’s and my unintentional irresponsibility turned into an opportunity for our son to apply faith to an intense situation and to see God move.

Outcomes don’t always happen like they did in our situation, but I’m so thankful that the Lord allowed my kids to experience something that built their faith. Even as they trust my husband and me to take care of them, we aren’t always sufficient. And as much as we try to prepare well, we don’t always catch every single detail. But I’m thankful that in that moment, our kids experienced God in a new way. Roots dig deep in those places, roots that will anchor them in all the other places they continue to step into.

Is there a time when your kids, or other TCK kids around you, have brought surprising encouragement or insight into a hard situation?