The first time I went to Africa, I was amazed at the noticeable lack of mirrors. We stayed in a house with an Englishman married to a Swazi woman. We were in what you could call the "suburbs" of Mbabane, yet even in this somewhat westernized home-life, there was not a single mirror to be found - not in the bedrooms, not in the bathrooms, not even in the hallway by the main door so you could check yourself on your way out! What were the Swazis thinking?!
My first trip to Africa taught me to get crafty about personal hygiene. Now honestly, we had it pretty easy in Swaziland. (Mozambique was a WHOLE other story, but honestly...way cooler experience, too :) Back in Swaziland, though, I had electricity at the house in Mbabane, so of course I put it to good use. I blow-dryed and straightened my hair as usual, only with the exception that I was mirror-less. I figured out that if I woke up at just the right time in the morning, the sun would be hitting my wall making a perfect square of light through the window; therefore, if I stood at just the right angle, I could use my own shadow on the wall as a form of a mirror.........
Um.... obsessive-much?
Here I am - in AFRICA of all places - and I'm still obsessing about getting my hair straight and shiny enough. Really, Tara...I don't think anyone cares. After three weeks in the land of no mirrors, I began to realize how often I would unconsciously turn to check my appearance, only to remember there were no mirrors.
It was only when I was completely unable to constantly look at myself that I realized how much I actually do.
It's not on purpose; and maybe it's not an "all-girls" thing, but it's certainly an "a lot-of-girls (and-maybe-some-guys-too)" thing... maybe it's even an "American" thing. It's like a knee-jerk reaction: if there's a mirror around, we look in it. We're told constantly to be perfect, look perfect, sound perfect, walk perfect, dress perfect - perfect, perfect, perfect. As a recovering perfectionist, this is exceptionally challenging for me. Nothing I ever do is good enough in my own eyes, so for me to ever breathe a sigh of relief and choose to say "It is good enough" is quite an accomplishment. (Even better when I finally take off the "enough" and just rest at, "It is good"...but that's another blog for another day).
It was only when I was completely unable to constantly look at myself that I realized how much I actually do.
It's not on purpose; and maybe it's not an "all-girls" thing, but it's certainly an "a lot-of-girls (and-maybe-some-guys-too)" thing... maybe it's even an "American" thing. It's like a knee-jerk reaction: if there's a mirror around, we look in it. We're told constantly to be perfect, look perfect, sound perfect, walk perfect, dress perfect - perfect, perfect, perfect. As a recovering perfectionist, this is exceptionally challenging for me. Nothing I ever do is good enough in my own eyes, so for me to ever breathe a sigh of relief and choose to say "It is good enough" is quite an accomplishment. (Even better when I finally take off the "enough" and just rest at, "It is good"...but that's another blog for another day).
It's quite relieving actually.
After that first week of mirror-envy, thankfully God grabbed a hold of my heart and reminded me that I am more than my reflection. These people didn't care what I looked like. They didn't care if my make-up was on or off, and they certainly didn't care if my hair was pretty or messy. They cared that I came to them; they cared that I loved them... they cared that I brought stickers :)
I enjoyed the next few weeks of our trip, mirror-less. There was this sort of relief in not being able to set my eyes on me all the time. I realized that on a whole other level, God was stirring me to live a mirror-less life - a life that was not about cultivating perfect reflections of myself, but rather, redemptive reflections of Christ - with or without my make-up on.
Every time I go to Africa, I realize I am being shaped into a better me. I am being shaped into a more accurate reflection of who Jesus is, because I am reminded that He is the Savior, not me. I'm not a doctor, a nurse or some brilliant genius who will discover the key to resolving poverty, hunger or the AIDs pandemic. All I really have to give is a smile, a voice, some arms to hug kids with (and, it should be stated, I can play a mean game of hot potato with a trash bag), but I never feel more beautiful than when I find the dirt of Africa caked beneath my feet.
In the mirror-less land, I was reminded that beauty is more about the love we give away than the image we give off. Beauty is found in a heart that shines Christ, in eyes that see as He sees and hands that reach out in compassion to "the least of these." I found in those "least" of these, the living beauty of Jesus, right here among us.
Among many other things, I learned in Africa the gift of living a mirror-less life. My students hate it when I go to Africa... Pt 2 will tell you why - "The Mirror Experiment" :)
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