The World Race is here for reals… I am on it… It isn’t a distant dream or a twinkle in my eye any longer. It is a real deal and my squad and I are here in the Ivory Coast learning what it truly means to live in community and share everything from the last cracker to how the events of the day left you spinning.
It has been a week and one day since I stood on American ground gripping my grande iced coffee in one hand and three airplane tickets in my other. I’m not going to lie… I felt pretty cool.
The picture of Bilbo running out his door after Gandalf bound for the adventure of a lifetime was on replay in my head, and I was ready to join my dwarves and slay some dragon.
Eight days later… Here I sit on the wrap around balcony of the hostel where five of our teams are living together this month serving with several different pastors in Abidjan, Cote d’Ivory. Africa is an adventure of its own.
It is funny how the dragon I thought I would slay was not the one that rose up before me. It takes a lot of courage and vulnerability to speak out about this dragon because it is called ugly… and no one wants to talk about being ugly, or least not when you are the one who is ugly.
Going into the race I was well aware that showers other than in a bucket were an incredibly rare luxury, make-up was a bit of a waste of time, and smelling like a rose all the time was not a reality. I would just like to say that knowing and experiencing these things are two completely different things.
Don’t worry Momma, I am showering regularly and taking care of myself, but it isn’t the same. Simple things that one takes for granted at home are not a part of every day life here. It has been two days since I have looked in the mirror. All in all I have come to the conclusion it is a real struggle to feel beautiful.
These thoughts have caused my shoulders to slump just a little the last couple days as I went about living out the single christian American girl dream in Africa. I know when I say this that all the girl readers will understand what I mean. It isn’t easy to feel even remotely pretty without things like body wash, frilly things, and curling irons.
Yesterday afternoon during some down time my friend came to sit on my bed and chat about life. I was in a vulnerable place and we began talking about the relationships we left at home, how this week has felt like a year, and how feeling just plain unattractive has been a very real feeling of late.
It was one of those, “Oh my gosh, you too?” moments when you remember once again that we were not created to tough life out alone. We made a pact right then and there to help each other remember how we are seen in the eyes of others… in the eyes of Christ.
Beauty is a thing of mystery. It is louder than physical yet silent. A woman who is beautiful doesn’t scream with her eyeliner or her lipstick. She doesn’t pull you in with high heels and perfect curves. While those attributes are alluring they speak nothing to the heart.
Your adorable laugh…
Your gentle spirit…
Your willingness to always listen…
Your heart for the broken…
Your sense of humor…
Your sensitive and intuitive heart…
and
The body that God handcrafted for you…
These are just a few of the things that make you beautiful.
You are gorgeous. Africa looks good on you.
