Rabbitshead Revisited

March 2026 • As I sat down to dinner one evening and looked at the piece of meat before me, I was secretly thrilled. It was huge, whatever it was, and I was hungry.

Here in Madagascar, we eat rice three times a day. Rice for breakfast. Rice for lunch. Rice for dinner. Rice is life. Fortunately, I really like rice! The main part of every meal is a large plate of rice. Alongside it is usually a small laoka, a side dish that adds a little flavor and variety.

Over the past few weeks, we've had all sorts of laoka. We've had cows' feet and pigs' feet. We've had pieces of pork fat. We've had tiny fish, or some vegetables. When we've been lucky, we've even had a few small pieces of meat.

Today, though... today must be special. Sitting before me was by far the biggest serving of meat I'd seen in weeks. The priests told me that tonight we were eating rabbit, and for one brief, glorious moment, I thought that I had won the dinner lottery.

But as I moved in with my fork, I noticed something strange sticking out of the meat. It looked like… bone? Then it hit me. Those were teeth. I looked a little closer. Could it be? Yup, there was the eye. I poked at the laoka with my fork, and sure enough, there was the ear.

In my excitement to finally get a big piece of meat, I hadn’t noticed it at all. I had indeed been given the rabbit’s head. In all honesty, my stomach turned a little. Then my brain started arguing with it.

"This is so strange. I can’t eat this."

"We’re hungry. You’ve got to eat it."

"But it's staring at me! How could I possibly?"

"Well, don't look it in the eye."

"But it’s a rabbit's head!"

"It's also the most protein we've seen in three weeks."

"Come on, let’s just eat the rice."

"No. This is what we eat here. Be grateful and eat the rabbit."

In the end, my brain... or was it my stomach?... won the argument. Anyway, I ate my rabbit's head. I must admit, it wasn't easy, and it wasn't something I would have chosen for myself, but it was what was placed before me that evening. It was what had been given to me.

I've discovered that one of the hardest parts of being a missionary isn't learning to eat different food, speak a new language, or travel endless miles over rough roads. It's learning to welcome the reality that God has placed before me. We all have an imagined life. The career we imagined. The family we imagined. The retirement we imagined. The mission we imagined. Like all young missionaries, I had my dreams for what the mission would be like, what I would do, what I would eat, where I would go, and how I would serve the Lord.

Yet what has been placed before me is different from what I imagined. And yes, sometimes it feels a bit like I’ve been given a rabbit’s head. But the question I ask myself each day is, can I welcome the reality that does exist, the mission that has been placed before me, instead of the version that I imagined? Can I trust that God knows where He sent me? Can I trust that He knows what He’s doing when He places something before me that I would have never chosen for myself?

That evening, as I was reflecting after dinner, I I found myself returning to Christ's instructions to His disciples as He sends them out. He said to them, when you enter a house:  

“Remain in the same house, eating and drinking whatever they provide, for the laborer deserves to be paid. Do not move about from house to house. Whenever you enter a town and its people welcome you, eat what is set before you; cure the sick who are there, and say to them, ‘The kingdom of God has come near to you.’”

—Luke 10:7-9

I’d never noticed before that Christ instructs His disciples not once, but twice to eat what is set before them. Perhaps He is telling them more than to not be picky eaters. Perhaps it is an invitation for the disciples to live in a place of dependence, not to long for the grace they wish they had, but to receive the grace that has been given to them. It is a place of poverty because the disciples have no purse, no bag, no sandals, and no food. They are completely dependent on the hospitality of those they meet. Yet it is only from this place of poverty, humility, and receptivity that they are then able to proclaim, "The kingdom of God has come near to you."

Yes, my dear friend, the truth is I still struggle with receiving what the Lord has placed before me, but the Lord is teaching me slowly that it is not my mission but His. The mission is not the reality I imagined, but it is the reality that He imagined for me. And perhaps that is one of the great tasks of every disciple: not to cling to the life we imagined, but to receive the path God has set before us and to walk it with Him.

Fish heads and cows' feet!

Grilling at the MEP house in Antananarivo with Fr. Ignasi, MEP