I’ve quickly learned that God can get pretty creative when it comes to communicating with us. Sometimes, He speaks directly through Scripture, and other times, He decides to do His talking through other people. That can look like a powerful sermon, an encouraging word from a friend or just a pat on the back when you need it the most. However, in my most recent findings, I’ve learned that it can look a lot like getting asked the petty questions that just so happen to hurt the most, thus igniting a grand ole conversation with the Lord. It’s been several weeks since this conversation occurred, but I feel like it’s worth sharing, nonetheless, because since this exchange, the Father has taught me some wonderful, wonderful truths about the way in which He sees us as sons and daughters.
Last month, we spent our mornings doing children ministry in the slum village, “42 Houses,” and it was by far my favorite part of ministry. We got to sing silly songs and play with the cutest kids all morning long, so I always left with an overwhelming sense of joy and contentment. On this particular day, I would consider our morning to have been a success: the kids’ screaming was kept to a minimum, very few tears were shed, and the little ones were acting especially kind and caring as opposed to their typical aggressive nature. All in all, it was a great day in the life, or at least it was until I got hit real hard with one of those simple, yet painstakingly brutal questions.
As I was watching our kids taking turns jumping on and off the stairs, one of the mothers came up to me, smiling and politely holding her stomach as if to flaunt the cute baby bump that all mothers-to-be aspire to have. I laughed and nodded and momentarily shared in the supposed excitement about her being pregnant, but because of the language barrier, it took me a few seconds to realize that her gestures were not intended to brag about her unborn child. Rather, they were meant to pose a question directed solely at me:
“Are YOU pregnant?”
Ouch.
Newsflash: A Cambodian woman indirectly called me fat.
Most people would have taken it with lighthearted fun, made a joke about the mounds of rice they’d eaten over the past few weeks, comment about the “World Race 20” weight gain conspiracy, and go about their day as if nothing had ever happened. But for the girl who has struggled with her body image for as long as she can remember, this question hit me hard, and it hurt. It hurt deeper than I even care to acknowledge, but with a half hearted smile and tears welled up in my eyes, I simply looked at her and politely said, “No ma’am, I’m not pregnant,” then went on my merry way, fighting back the tears that I so desperately needed to cry.
That day, I left 42 Houses feeling defeated, insecure, fat, and anything but beautiful. Any negative self talk regarding my body image resurfaced, and I found myself scrutinizing every aspect of my appearance with negativity, disgust, and shame until the Father whispered ever so slightly into my shattered heart, “Madeline. Who are you? Really. Who in the world are you? And more importantly, whose are you?”
Well, shoot.
So sassily I replied, “I’m a daughter of the King, which means I just so happen to belong to You, doesn’t it?”
To that, He simply replied, “Yep. Enough said”
And with that, He gave me a reality check. I dropped the insecurity and shame, I shrugged off this woman’s seemingly harmless comment, and I got a grip of what being a daughter actually looks like. From the very beginning of my race, the Lord and I have been talking a lot about what daughterhood looks like in His house, so naturally, we’ve talked a whole lot about where I ought to find my identity and my worth. It’s not about me. It never has been, and it never will be because my identity is found in the one I call my Father, my Friend, and the greatest love of my life, not my physical appearance. He’s taught me that His thoughts are quite frankly the only thoughts that should ever matter to my feeble minded self because they’re the ones that define me:
“You are loved”
“You are chosen”
“You are pursued”
“You are important”
“You are valued”
“You are strong”
“You are bold”
“You are smart’
“You are confident”
“You are beautiful”
“You are you”
“You are mine”
THESE are the thoughts that matter, and they are the truths that define my very existent as an heir to the Kingdom, a victor in Christ, and a daughter of the King. Why would I ever believe anything else in this life?
Looking back, I can laugh about my conversation with the Cambodian mother because I am beautiful, and I am anything but fat. In fact, I looked back on some pictures from that day and realized that because my pants were practically falling off of me, my cinched up belt made it look like I was sporting a few extra pounds. I didn’t look pregnant. I looked like a girl wearing pants 4 sizes too big with a belt cinched up to keep them from falling off.
Ha. Funny stuff.
Immediately, her question cut me like a knife, but without it, I don’t know if I would have been as apt to hear that much needed reality check from the Lord. I don’t think His words of affirmation would have meant as much to me, and I highly doubt I would be able to sit here and crack jokes amongst my team about this petty misunderstood conversation. The Lord is funny in His means of conversation, and I’m slowly learning to appreciate His quirky ways of getting through to us hard-headed children.
So shoutout to the Cambodian woman for asking if I was pregnant. You helped me hear my Father’s voice loud and clear, and I think that’s pretty great considering how things started off between us.
Lesson learned: We’re all sons and daughters of the King, relentlessly pursued and wholeheartedly delighted in; therefore, His opinions are the only ones that matter in this life. Let’s strive to remember that truth each and every day of our lives, shall we?
Madeline
