Sharon Eappen

We're broken pieces You and I. May be we could fit in Do you have enough room? We're broken pieces Stabbed with friendship And love that was Only a lesson. We're broken pieces May be together We could be A pretty mosaic. We're broken pieces But aren't mosaics pretty? The random scattering, The visual playing with your mind. We're broken pieces The ones that need  No mending Only time will. We're broken pieces You were always there When I broke down Even when you didn't know why. We're broken pieces May be I'll tell it to you Some other day When it hurts lesser. We're broken pieces Let me cry  On your shoulder. Let me hold your hand Safely in mine Through the bumpy ride. Let my tears speak For all that is to be said, As I feel the pulse of Your palm beat against mine. 22.09.17

      Being an MK (Missionary Kid) is quite an adventure. So why not talk about it? " Being a missionary kid is a unique, precious and beautiful journey. Ok, so there's my statement. 'Yeah,' you look at the screen, 'suuuure... Let's start at page one, shall we?'  If you're an MK chances are  you've got 'THIRD CULTURE KID' stamped on your forehead as well. Yes, I'm the son of a Malayalee father and a Dutch mother and yes, neither of their ethnicities blend with the people God has called them to work with. However, that certainly doesn't mean I feel like I've just stepped out of a UFO every morning I exit the front door. Growing up with two or more coinciding cultures is, in my opinion, the healthiest environment for growth, learning and a widening of perspective. I admit it's a sort of roller coaster ride- there are peaks and not-so-high-peaks  (ahem...) but every time I look back on my seventeen-year-short missiona...