In September 2011 my husband and I returned from a vision trip to Southern Asia only to be shocked at the news we were pregnant with baby #3. I attended New Staff Training at Reliant in October — exhausted, nauseous and, most of all, terrified of what we had gotten ourselves into. When I was a single youth, I had dreamed of going overseas. But with three kids in tow (aged three, one and due in May), my nausea was coming more from my own fear than the new life within me.

As we raised support, fear grew. As we shared about our desire to move overseas, we were warned about accepting gifts from strangers, eating raw fruits and vegetables and the dangers that would happen if I ever let my kids out of my sight. Then there was the inward fear that I was forcing my children to sacrifice something precious: a childhood that they would never be able to get back and for which they might resent me (or worse, God) for the rest of their lives growing up in another country. Through this God was gracious to lead me to Psalm 16, where I found comfort and courage in the midst of these fears. I meditated on it often, and it gave me hope in the dark, sleepless nights.

Today we are preparing to leave our home again, but this time to go from Southern Asia back to the United States to apply for visas that we are not guaranteed to receive. I have been doing a lot of reflection. As I returned to Psalm 16 after a long time, one line stuck out to me.

“The lines have fallen for me in pleasant places; indeed, I have a beautiful inheritance.”

The plans and purposes God had for us over the past five years of cross-cultural work have indeed been pleasant and beautiful — difficult, frustrating and heart-wrenching at times, but beautiful. This applies to many aspects of our lives and ministry, but I also find it overwhelmingly true in the lives of my kids.

They have learned what it is like to be the minority. They can interact so easily with different people that it sometimes astonishes me. I have watched them play for hours with kids that don’t even speak the same language. They have learned languages other than English. They have seen and empathized with injustice. They eat their vegetables and all kinds of other strange, healthy foods. They have an awareness of the world far beyond their age. They have seen there is a cost to following Jesus. They have prayed for their daddy as he is summoned by the police. They have prayed for the government to love Jesus so that we can return to our home in Asia. Such lessons, dear parents, are not learned in Sunday school.

Yes, they have funny accents and are quite clueless to American pop culture. I’m sure there will be struggles when God calls us back to America. But I am learning to value what God values and am praying like crazy that he uses their childhood experience to produce adults who are far more courageous, empathetic and accepting than I have been.

As you prepare yourself and your family for cross-cultural ministry, I want your heart to be glad and your whole being to rejoice. Raising your kids in a foreign land is a precious gift. Don’t let the world’s value system feed you with fear or make you feel guilty. Running after the gods of this world will bring you sorrow, but in His presence is fullness of joy.