Metaphors are cool. Here’s one about self-image and messiness that God and I came up with together. (Really it was all Him, but I have a Mac and fast fingers so He let me take the reins on this one)
So God was like, “Alright, let’s start with a mirror.”
And I said, “A mirror? What am I supposed to do with a mirror?”
“A MIRROR.”
“OK, fine, a mirror. Geesh.” I see God getting rightfully sassy when I think my way is better.
I’m sitting in front of the vanity mirror and staring at my reflection. (Pun intended)
Soon, God makes an appearance.
He enters the scene and just smiles at me in the reflection. I can’t really focus on Him because I’m too worried about **ahem** me, me, me, me, me! He has a brush in His hand because–yep, you guessed it–my God comes prepared, and He knows EXACTLY what I need. (ain’t nobody gonna get through this mane with a fine-toothed comb AMIRIGHTLADIES?!)
He takes the brush and begins to run it gently through my hair. He patiently works through each tangle and just smiles at the knotted mess that is my hair.
My life seems to look pretty similar to my hair at this point, and I apologize for both of those things, but it seems like my apologies are unnecessary.
You see, I think my God is in the business of making things beautiful. And man, I think it’s His favorite thing. Especially if that means more time with His Beloved. (oh hey, that’s me… and YOU)
I begin to see just how tangled and messy my hair–life–is, and I begin to wonder if I’ll ever see a day with silky smooth hair again.
I wonder if I’ll ever be whole again.
Instantly the lies begin to flood my mind.
Whole again? Please, what does that even look like?
Beauty? Where? I don’t see it in you.
Oh, you’re sort of satisfied with what you see in the mirror? Let me see about that.
These lies drown out any sort of peace I had previously felt sitting with my Heavenly Father.
Immediately, as quickly as the lies swarmed in, I start scrutinizing every flaw of mine and focusing on every wicked falsehood that came my way. Pretty soon, I forget my Abba was even there in the first place.
Thankfully, He comes to my rescue, as He always does. He starts whispering sweet truth into my bleeding and confused ears.
I HAVE ALREADY MADE YOU WHOLE.
I HAVE MADE YOU IN MY LIKENESS AND FOR MY GLORY.
I GAVE YOU INTRINSIC BEAUTY AND VALUE THAT CANNOT BE TAKEN AWAY.
I DECLARED VICTORY OVER THESE LIES, AND THEY HAVE NO HOLD ON YOU.
I HAVE OVERCOME.
I’d like to take a brief timeout to have us both take notice that my lies were focused on me and the truth was all about Him. Hmmm, something to think about. OK, play ball.
As He filled the space with His truth that determines my identity, the mirror began to fog up. Every breath full of every promise He made covered the cold lies emulated by the mirror. Pretty soon, I could no longer see my reflection.
At first I was frustrated, because isn’t that what the mirror is for? To reflect? Heeelloooo, isn’t it supposed to display my beauty??
Ha, I guess it was never really about me.
He walked around the chair, approached the mirror, and (instead of drawing a smiley face like I would have) He wrote “Jesus” in the condensation. (Of course He did)
I had a misconception about the mirror:
It was never meant to show off my beauty, it was meant to show off His.
I was consumed by lies until I fixed my eyes on His name.
Huh, maybe things start looking bleak when I take my eyes off of my Father and place them onto myself.
Y’all, when the mirror lets us down, let’s look to the One who never will.
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