MK forum

It happened!
It happened!
Not in Japan
But everywhere else
In the world
As it was known then---
Humility, yes!
Admit what went on
And rescue your children
Even tho now grown
Embrace them
Believe them
Let them come home
To loving understanding
And warm family times
It's never too late
Until……..
It is…..
Because YOU are gone.

(Ode to Parents)

Yes. To parents. Please, please listen.

Or it can also be one of your children, carrying such a heavy load of pain, for whom the clock stops ticking before you humble yourself.

Someday, it WILL be too late.

Please don't wait till then.

Here is another open letter to missionary parents. Written by another MK .... one much younger than me.

It is excellent. I hope everyone will click on the link and read it. Many MKs will nod in agreement, and many will hope their parents will read it and take its message to heart.

http://www.alifeoverseas.com/an-open-le ... nary-kids/

Oh the luxury of having parents that want to listen. I mean really listen, not just use anything you say against you and when they let you speak, call you a liar or mentally ill.
Parents who don't dismiss you as being ungrateful and bitter, because you don't praise them for bringing you up as an MK. Parents who constantly tell you that you will never be happy because you aren't towing the party line. Parents who insist on saying they love you, but publically deny you exist.

You are so right.

It grieves me deeply that so many missionary parents I know of have actually turned AGAINST their children, which in my opinion is one of the most unchristian things a person could do!

And perhaps this is the reason some NTM MK abuse survivors have gone silent: if they have no support, no one believe them or cares about their story or shows any compassion (not even their own parents!), it would feel natural to just give up the fight.

Good observations:

Perhaps for some of us it is the opposite. Being publically disowned by parents is the signal that no loyalty is owed, that there is no longer any justification to keep silent and that speaking out is freedom.

They took me to the mission barrel
To put on rainments very fine
But I didn't like the outfit
And refused to call it mine

The sheepskin cloak was so fake
Despite it being the latest trend
All the wolves were wearing them
Like a long lost best friend

They made me try it on
But I tore it off in disgust
And left the mission barrel
To find other sheep I could trust

And now decades later
I roam the hills and valleys free
For I don't need a fancy disguise
When I'm happy being me