Friday, March 4, 2011

Mirror, Mirror

Start.

I move closer in to really see. There is so much there to cover up. Why the need to look young? Sun spots, age, a life hidden behind hair color and concealer. But the laugh lines run deep because a life is hard fought and won through the laughter. The tears that spill leave red rimmed eyes that blur a world and try to make sense.

Change, growth. There is so much going on in the body, the mind, a life. It shows on the outside. But appearance is everything, and there's so much of life that's not neatly packaged, not toned and tight. It hangs loose.

It wrinkles on top of each other, leaving room to expand, swell. Should there be this much judgment of self in that mirror?

More grace, perhaps? Would I look through eyes of love rather than eyes of criticism, eyes that are skeptical? I need to see that it's OK to be me, to age, to grow, mature, and be exactly what God is making me. A mirror reflects. It doesn't hide, pretend, or embellish. It reflects.

I hope I radiate and reflect. I want to be that mirror of God's grace in a life that's mixed up and broken and graced, and bound up by Love Himself. A mirror image of grace.

Stop.

This is a five minute writing. That means no editing, rearranging, just five minutes of thoughts and words. Imperfect but straight from the heart and head and keyboard. Spell-checked after the fact, though, to hide my embarrassing typo's. I can generally spell, I just can't always type. 
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