Self-Image

OK, track with me. You’re getting ready for a special event, you’ve picked out a pretty dress, and you’re doing something different with your hair. You get everything just right, and you take that final look in the mirror—a sort of mental picture of yourself. You carry this image into the room with you, wherever you’re going. You refer to it when you feel nervous, or when someone compliments your appearance. That’s you, and that image bolsters you up . . . anybody with me on this? I guess in my mind, that’s my self-image, the picture of myself that I think of as what I look like, and sometimes, to some degree, as me.

Well, something interesting always happened to me on bush trips living in Mada. I lost that picture. On trips out, I could easily go a week without looking in a mirror, without ever being confronted with my physical appearance.

Most likely I was wearing clothes that would be “mismatched” by American standards, though the mix of bright colors, big patterns, and abundant fabric always sort of thrilled me.

My hair would be in interesting braids at best, and in a greasy ponytail at worst. My face would be as clean as a couple of wipes each morning could make it. My feet would always be hopelessly caked in orange dirt . . . sometimes I deluded myself into believing that I was just getting really tan :)

But the best part was, no one cared. No one cared what I looked like. I looked sort of like the women around me . . . but no one was even thinking about that. There were other things to think about, talk about, notice—other ways to know one another. And I would lose that picture of myself. When I walked up to a group of people, I somehow wasn’t thinking about what I looked like to them. Instead, I thought about what I would say to them, formulating the right Malagasy words in my head, to be ready. Or I thought about who was in the group, how they were related, who I may not have met yet, whose child had been tagging along with me earlier in the day. Whatever else I was thinking about, that picture of me just sort of dropped out of consciousness. 

I came to believe that when you have no mirrors, and cultural differences dictate that no one cares what you look like, you find something else within yourself to be that “self-image” you carry with you. You are free to think of yourself in a deeper way that extends beyond just what you look like, and you get to learn a little something about who you really are.

Since I’ve been back in the US, though, I’ve noticed something: that one-dimensional self-image has been forced back on me. I was somewhat prepared for this. I knew I would be more conscious of my looks here. I knew I would face the high expectations for physical appearance that our culture enforces.

What I didn’t expect, though, was the way I would be constantly bombarded with my physical image. Mirrors are everywhere here! And not just mirrors, but all sorts of reflective surfaces! Everywhere I go, whatever I’m doing, I catch a glimpse of myself in a window, a shiny car, someone’s sunglasses . . . so that I can never, for a moment, forget what I look like. And with every reminder is the constant challenge of whether or not that reflected image measures up. 

I know as believers we all know there is more to us than our appearance. I know we are taught that physical beauty is just a small part, that God and the people who really love us value our insides, our hearts. And this is all true.

But what I’m seeing is that our culture is fighting these truths much harder than I ever realized. There is something positively sinister about how often we see ourselves, catch our reflection right up next to the image of a perfect model in a store window, or see our face in sunglasses on a friend’s face whose appearance we admire. It’s overwhelming. This is not the way our souls were meant to work. This bombarding physicality is an attack.

So fight back with me, OK? Looking at our faces or bodies here, we’re bound to be disappointed. Even looking into our hearts, we find our only good is in Him. We can’t measure up without Him. So let’s just look to Him, fix our eyes on Him! He is the Lovely One, the only One truly worthy of our constant gaze. We find our reflection everywhere, but no matter how beautiful we are, inside or out, it will never be enough. Instead, let’s look at Him, that, like looking straight into a shining light, all else might be lost and forgotten in His all-encompassing beauty.

“Turn your eyes upon Jesus,

Look full in His wonderful face,

And the things of earth will grow strangely dim,

In the light of His glory and grace.”

So, what's next?

It’s halfway through August. Five years ago, I started training in Virginia to go to Madagascar. Five weeks ago, I said my goodbyes in Madagascar, and came back to start learning how to live in America again.

I have so much to be thankful for—let me tell you about how the lines are falling, the portions of blessing He’s continuing to pour out on me!

I started my new job this week, my first real job with hours and a uniform and training videos . . . so if you’re local to Fernandina Beach, come on to Chic-Fil-A and visit me! :)

I’m continuing my online seminary classes too, and am looking forward to visiting the campus of Southeastern Seminary in North Carolina this fall. I’m hoping to return overseas, maybe even to Madagascar, in the next five years. Of course that's my plan -- He may have a different one :) Pray for me to truly trust Him step by step. 

I’m thankful for time at home with my family, friends, and with my church, who have all supported me and the ministry in Madagascar so faithfully over the last five years.

And I’m thankful for a new relationship the Lord has brought into my life ;) Nathan, you’re awesome!

Thank you, all of you who’ve been reading and praying over the last few years. Nothing can be done without prayer. Your support means so, so much to me! He has done, and continues to do, great things! To stay connected to all He’s doing in Madagascar, check out our team blog: madaboutstories.com

I’ll still be using my blog here. I have a lot to process from the time in Madagascar, a lot of stories yet untold. I also have some new thoughts, stemming from parts of life here in the US that have already caught me by surprise. I have to admit that this place feels strange. I’m confused, and at times bombarded with aspects of life here that I never noticed before.

Living in Madagascar, putting faith into practice seemed like a tangible, daily reality. In returning, I’ve been afraid of losing my bearings, losing the truths I believe He taught me over the last five years. The truth is, I don’t really know how to live here anymore.

However, I believe that God has brought me here to live, and also to give, to pour out, to thrive! He will not fail me!

So here’s me trying to figure out how to do that, while still remaining true to all He’s worked in my life over the last five years. I want to share some of this process. I welcome your thoughts, prayers and comments all along the way! :)  

He is the same!

Leaving Madagascar was hard. The Lord truly blessed me while I was there with His guidance, faithful presence, and with some of the most precious relationships of my life. It’s a little hard to imagine living away from there. As far as being back, it’s definitely an adjustment.

The reality is, though, that Jesus is the same, yesterday, today, and forever (Hebrews 13:8). He is present not only in Madagascar, but here in the United States—He is present in me by His Holy Spirit! What a precious truth! One of my favorite passages is still true:

Lord, you alone are my portion and my cup;

You make my lot secure.

The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places;
    

Surely I have a delightful inheritance.

- Psalm 16:5-6

He is the One who led me to Madagascar, and He’s now led me home to the US. He’s the One laying down the boundary lines of my life, and I can trust Him to do this according to His good plan. I can trust in Him alone as my portion—not where I live, or what I do, or even who I am, but who He is. And He never changes.

So when I think about the last almost five years in Madagascar, all I can express is a deep, sure thankfulness for all that He’s done, and who He is, for the incredible people and the life-changing experiences. I will never be the same! And I’ll keep trusting Him to take me on with Him! 

Since my last post . . . :)

It has been shamefully long since my last blog post. No excuses . . . let’s just move on and I’ll try to catch us up! :) Watch out, this might be a long one!

The Lord was incredibly faithful during and after the cyclone to help us recover and help as we could. Continue to pray for the many villages who lost much of their harvests, and for wisdom for our team.

We had a meeting in Tana, and this was a great time of fellowship, but was also bittersweet in starting to say some goodbyes. Part of our team moved to their place of ministry when we got back--so exciting to see the Lord expanding His work through them!

My last trip to the forest was a huge blessing. I had a lot to do when I went up—about 10 stories I needed to revise with the storytellers, and I was also hoping to let the group leaders lead a session with the group, as this is how they will be able to continue to create new stories on their own. I knew I would be staying in the village on my own for a few days, and then I would be joined by Tom, who works with me from South Africa, and who would help me finalize some of the stories. I was praying constantly that God would open the doors for us to finish, and would keep my heart focused on His goals, not my own.

God truly blessed. I was able to meet with the storytellers daily, and we revised all the stories. The group met on their own, and the leaders did a wonderful job leading them in working through a new story. Also, I was able to spend special times with the believers’ families, which was a precious gift from the Lord as I prepared to leave Madagascar.

When I returned to Tulear, we had a celebration with all the storying groups in Tulear. Each group prepared several stories to tell, and we listened to stories, sang praise songs, prayed for one another, and praised God for all that He has accomplished in the storying project and in our lives in the last few years!

For the next few weeks, the groups and I met often to try to wrap things up. We revised, re-recorded, and then other friends helped me check, transcribe and type the stories in dialect. One friend from my church, Ando, spent hours, even days, with me over several weeks typing out all the stories, and helping me check them. My team went all over the place finding people to make final recordings, going back and forth to the print shop, compiling binders, loading recordings onto our solar-powered audio machines, and even helping me pack and get rid of things! Basically that last six weeks was a blur of activity and effort finishing the stories, as well as getting myself ready to leave, and everyone worked tirelessly to help me! I felt incredibly loved and supported.

We also had a volunteer team who led a Bible study weekend with the youth from many of our churches. This was a precious time of watching God’s Word work in the lives of Malagasy people, and the team were a great encouragement to us as well! I was able to travel with that group down to the southern villages, and say my goodbyes there. I’m thankful for the relationships the Lord gave me in the southern villages. Though I was only able to visit them a few times over the last few years, their growth has been precious to watch, and I’m glad to have names and faces to pray for.

My goodbyes in Tulear were bittersweet. The Malagasy Independence Day was a couple of days before I left, so I was able to go to watch the fireworks with the youth from our church, and then to fellowship with them into the night. 

I was able to say goodbye to each of the groups by giving them their stories on an audio player, and it was incredibly rewarding to see their joy in how God had used them to created such a special resource! I also had a sweet visit with Pastor Jonoro and his family, as well as several of the older women in his church, who have become incredible precious to me over the last few years. God has truly used these relationships to change my life.

The day before I left, our team went to the beach, and then had dinner together and played games. This group of people have truly become family over the last few years, and I’m so thankful for each of them—for the precious memories, faithful friendship, and all that the Lord has taught me through each of them—love you guys!!

I spent a couple of days in Tana on my way out. I was blessed to be able to reconnect with my church there, have lunch with a pastor’s family who I became close to, and spend a few days with Malagasy friends and my supervisor’s family.

My sweet friend Tahina, as well as Matt, my supervisor in Tana, saw me off at the airport in Tana, and about 35 hours later, my family met me at the Jacksonville airport. I knew that leaving would be a lot to process . . . still working on that :) But I was, and am, so very thankful for all the Lord did, and all the ways He blessed me, in Madagascar, and I was, and am, hoping in His presence into the future, and trying to be faithful in trusting that alone. 

Cyclone Haruna

For the last few weeks, we’ve all been busy and a little overwhelmed with dealing with a cyclone that passed through Tulear at the end of February. I’m so thankful for the Lord’s protection during the cyclone, both for our mission family and for so many Malagasy families we know here in Tulear, and in the rural villages where we work. At the same time, our hearts are heavy and burdened with the damage the cyclone caused: lives lost and so many crops and homes destroyed—damage that we and those we work with will continue to face and need to deal with for some time. Please join me in praying for southwest Madagascar and for all those affected by this cyclone. Pray for us to have wisdom in how to respond to the needs around us.

Here’s the story of what happened during the cyclone and what we’ve been doing since: During my last trip to the forest midway through February, we got reports of a cyclone heading toward southwest Madagascar. We came back a little early, and later that next week the cyclone had gained strength and appeared to be heading right for us. We stocked up a little, and those of us without vehicles moved into one house next-door to another mission family to weather out the storm.

The storm actually made landfall north of us, and passed through our area headed southeast on February 22. Along with a lot of rain, we had several hours of high winds. The next day, a river near Tulear (which I have only ever seen with a tiny trickle of water in it), overflowed its banks and flooded into parts of Tulear. Many, many homes were full of water and mud.

For the first few days, there was no power or water in the city. After a few days, we had running water, and little by little parts of Tulear have gotten power—some of our mission houses just in the last few days.

Within the week after the cyclone, our supervisors, who had just arrived back in the city after five months in the US, led us in meeting with our church leaders and praying about how to move forward with relief. We came up with a project to give relief buckets (filled with food, medicine, and other helpful items) to all the families in our churches. The churches formed committees to give out the buckets through visits to each family, during which they prayed for them, shared encouragement through a Bible story, and looked for ways to possibly help more in the future if necessary. I’ve been very touched to see the churches reaching out to their families, particularly at a time like this when everyone is struggling. Pray for the churches to have wisdom to know how to follow up with those families that may continue to need help.

Much of the greatest damage has been in the villages in the rural areas where we work. Huge portions of their fields have been affected, so it is likely that they will feel the effects of this cyclone throughout the entire coming year because of the damage to their harvest. Pray for them as they replant and rebuild. Pray for God’s provision. Pray also for us to have wisdom in how to encourage them and how to help as well. 

Horontany

Recently here in Tulear I had a new experience—an earthquake ("horontany" in Malagasy)! It was a small one, but we definitely felt it! It happened in the middle of the night, and so the situation was the talk of the town the next day! The most interesting part was everyone’s theories on what they thought was happening as they were awakened by the slight shaking . . .

- Our guard thought it was our dog, Maverick, under his bed, shaking it.

- Some of my Malagasy friends were afraid someone was breaking into their houses—thank goodness this wasn’t the case!

- Some people, me included, thought someone was shaking us awake.

- Many people thought it was a dream—Noelle, one of the believers who works with us, dreamed he was running through the Mikea forest, being chased by soldiers, and suddenly the forest was shaking!

We’re thankful the earthquake wasn’t serious—in fact, it was kind of a fun experience to hear everyone’s thoughts! 

The Living among the dead

Recently one of my story-crafting groups and I were visiting the village where they share their stories. They shared the story of the resurrection of Jesus, in which there’s that wonderful line the angel says: “Why do you look for the living among the dead?”

I’ve always loved that part—Jesus is no longer dead! He isn’t to be counted among the dead—He’s alive!

As we talked about lessons we had learned from the story, one of the story-crafters made an interesting observation. He connected this mention of “the dead” to idols, and the way that we so often “look for” the presence of our living, active God in idols—reminds me of Psalm 115:4-8. For many people in southwest Madagascar, this is literally true—they look to pieces of wood and stone to take an active role in their lives. We as westerners often have more subtle idols, but the reality is the same: Christ alone is God, is One who has power and authority in our lives. There is none other in whom we can place all our trust.

Join me in praying that He would completely break the power of idols here in southwest Madagascar and in our lives.