this is a story that i have been excited to write since the beginning of the race – when it all started.
when i began this journey, i received a prophetic key. the man who made it knew only my name, prayed over the key, received a word from the Lord, and engraved it into the key for me to have for the duration of this adventure.
i was excited to get my key and see what word i was given. i was hoping for something fun – adventure, journey, bravery, courage, gifting– ya know, something i would enjoy getting to figure out for myself.
prophecies don’t always make sense at the time, but our God is not a God of confusion, and never leaves us in the dark.
i opened my key a few days before leaving the country, and it was then that i knew this journey wasn’t going to be all fun and games. God always has much bigger, deeper plans for our lives, hearts, and souls.
my key had the word “beauty” engraved in it. i knew exactly why as soon as i opened it. and i rolled my eyes and shoved my key in my pocket, not being excited to show it off.
the fact that i had never embraced my own beauty was a secret between me and myself, or at least i thought. clearly God knew about it too though (He’s got jokes).
i wrote a blog back at the end of month 6, beginning of month 7 describing this heart issue because i was very much in the depths of struggling with it then. (you can read that here)
it was then that i really brought this heart issue into the light. we know that God’s Word says that even darkness is light when it is brought into the light of our Father, and sometimes that’s what we need to do with our struggles – bring them out of the darkness and into light in order for God to start working on them.
so months 7 through 10 (and even still now), were a lot of focusing on my own beauty. who does God say that i am? what does my Father see in me? what does my Father say about me? where do i find my beauty? my worth? what is in me that is beautiful and where in scripture is this backed? asking all the questions in order to get to the bottom of this. as well as questions that dig at the root of this heart issue. when did this begin? what does this stem from? why do i have this struggle? what memories can God remind me of that i can work through and sort out?
persistent prayer and vulnerability along with big faith will always bring about the answers we are asking for. maybe not the way we expect, but He keeps His promises to his children.
in Ethiopia, i remember laying in bed one night. i was frustrated with myself because i had probably had a second helping of dinner and it was probably all carbs because #worldrace. so i was more than likely beating myself up over it. i laid in bed and went through my head about the intense workout i was going to do the next morning before a day full of ministry in order to feel better about myself. i set my alarm, made a plan, and went to bed.
when i woke up, it was storming like crazy outside. rain in Ethiopia is no joke forreal. guess where i was going to workout? outside, of course. i laid there listening to the rain and felt the Lord whisper, “just love yourself today.” and i said okay. i will do that.
this was the first time i remember listening to the Father and understanding his heart for me on this specific issue.
there really wasn’t much that i actively didto begin loving myself in new ways, it was just a lot of prayer and seeking the Father’s heart.
the cool thing about these keys, is that God will sometimes prompt you to give it away. many of my squadmates had already given their keys away. i knew i couldn’t give mine to anyone else until i fully embraced it myself.
i don’t know if anyone ever completelyembraces their own beauty, but i definitely had a perspective change and new heart towards myself. i still pray daily about loving myself and loving the temple that the Lord created for His Spirit to dwell in.
at the beginning of month 10 in Rwanda, we got new teams, and my new teammate was sitting across the table from me at lunch. i had been wearing my key everyday since my morning in Ethiopia with God, and she saw my key. we were all kind of goofing around having fun at lunch, and she said “yall, i don’t mean to kill the fun or anything, but i have to say something. Maggie, i just saw your key, and all i could think about was beauty for ashes, isaiah 61. i think God is telling me that you are going to give your key away soon.” i thought well how cool is that! and didn’t really think much about it past that.
about two weeks later, we were doing ministry in Rwanda with our host Moses, where we did door to door evangelism in the afternoons. a lot of times, this looked like going to people’s homes whom we had met on the street earlier in the day or days prior. and this particular Monday, we were going to visit a lady who we had bought sugar cane from in town one day the week before.
she had told us that she didn’t live super close, but that could mean anything at this point in the race. we began walking in the direction Moses was told, in the mid-afternoon heat. and we kept walking. and kept walking. then asked for directions and we were told it was about another hour walk outside of town. “WHAT??” we thought. thank goodness for bicycle taxis!
needless to say, it was a journey to get where we were going. we knew that God had something really special for whoever we would end up meeting. we had faith that the journey would be worth it. and who doesn’t love a little adventure through the dirt roads of Kigali, am i right?
we finally get to this village. there are children with torn clothing and dirty faces and hands and feet welcoming us — by surrounding our bicycles yelling “muzungu! muzungu!” (this means white person in some parts of Africa). we get off our bikes and walk towards the village, about 30-40 kids following, some hand in hand with us, others just happy to be along for the walk with new strangers.
we reach the place that we had been looking for. it was a collection of small mud rooms. i hear Moses say “yeah, this is where prostitutes live.” the kids who walked with us hung around, and there were plenty more children running around this compound. then some mothers started emerging from their mud houses.
three mothers. all looked very young to have so many children. one had three children. one had six. and one had four. the one who sold us sugar cane was one of them, and she was so excited that we had really made the trek out to her village. we were overjoyed to be there.
they all found stools, stumps, benches, buckets, and anything else of the sort for us all to sit on, and we began chatting.
there was one mother, Caementin, that caught my attention. it was something about the look in her eye. i could tell she was longing for something, she was hurting.
when evangelizing, my team and i would introduce ourselves, and Moses would tell a little bit about why we were there and what we were doing. then we would begin asking questions.
how many children do you have?
are you married?
do you work?
what do you do for work?
do you know Jesus?
do you have a relationship with Him?
what does that look like for you?
what does that mean to you?
we asked these and they were all kind of dead ends.
what is something you are struggling with right now that we could pray for you for?
this one broke the ice for Caementin.
her eyes welled up with giant tears as they started streaming down her face. she began speaking so fast in her local language that Moses could barely translate for her. she told us her story — about her pain, her hurt, her past, and her present.
she explained that she used to know God. she used to run to Him. she had begun doing things that she knew was wrong in order to provide her children when her husband had left her a year and a half ago with 3 children to care for. she explained that she knew that the Lord saw her as dirty and a sinner. she loved her own children so much that she began prostituting in order to give them food and a roof over their heads. she was selling her body to provide life for her children. she had a six-week-old child who was almost certainly conceived through prostitution.
this woman was broken before us and letting us see her brokenness. it broke all of us.
my teammate, Hannah, knelt before Caementin, took her hands in her own, looked her square in the eyes, and began speaking life over her.
Hannah quoted isaiah 61, that the Spirit of the Lord will give us a crown of beauty instead of ashes. she told Caementin that the Lord sees her. He sees how much she loves her children, that she would sacrifice herself to provide for them. He sees her intentions and her heart. He knows she is broken and hurting. she is still His daughter. He loves her so incredibly much.
tears were pouring.
Caementin explained how she felt dirty and unloved and unclean. she knows that what she does isn’t right, it isn’t glorifying to the Lord, it isn’t what He wants for her. but she also doesn’t know how else to provide for her children.
Hannah washed Caementin’s feet to show her how the Lord felt about her. it was in this moment that it hit me: God sees Caementin as beautiful even when she cannot feel beautiful herself.
i’ve been in her shoes. obviously not the same scenario, but i’ve felt unloved and the farthest thing from beautiful. and the whole time God was on my side trying to tell me how beautiful i am.
i reached for my key and knew it was my time to share it with someone. Moses translated for me while i gave Caementin this necklace with the key on it. i told her what it meant to me, and also what it could mean to her.
i tied the necklace around her neck, and i pray that every time she feels or sees the word BEAUTY around her neck, she knows how incredibly beautiful she is in the eyes of her Heavenly Father. i pray that Caementin has the strength to depend on the Lord to provide new ways to make ends meet for her children. i pray that Caementin feels loved even in the darkest of times.
our stories have power. everything that the Lord walks us through in life will be used to help someone else going through the exact or similar things later on. embrace your season that you are walking through, and know that God gets the glory — every. single. time.
with love,
margaret rose xx
