My mind lies to me. It tells me I still look 27. It forgets I have wrinkles and that I can’t do all the things my younger body could do. It forgets how frizzy or lumpy my hair may look. It convinces me that I’m doing okay, no need to worry. But then I look in the mirror….
When venture to take that look, there’s a different story altogether. I see a thirty-something, aging woman, saggy where I’ve never been saggy and squishy in all the wrong places. My belly will never see the light of day again because, you know, stretch marks times six.
So, just to see–I know why they say curiosity killed the cat–I get on the scale. Instead of good news to make me smile, I find myself fighting the urge to scream because I’ve tried. I’ve worked out and jogged and limited sweets and portions and all but banned anything except water (and coffee, but I think coffee doesn’t count).
The mirror is brutal, revealing all the imperfections–all the stuff I really hate about myself. And so, I strive to do better–exercise more, eat less, get a new hairstyle, buy some anti-wrinkle cream. Buying a new mirror would do no good because it isn’t the problem.
There’s another Mirror.
The one that shows me the wrinkles, the flab, the squishy parts, and the unruliness of my soul.
I find myself carrying on with life, thinking I’m doing okay because in my mind, I don’t see all the imperfections. My mind’s eye sometimes usually sees what it wants to see.
It takes this Mirror–The Mirror of God’s Word.
In it, I find myself falling short even in the areas I thought were going fine.
In this mirror, I see clearly my insecurities and…. [continue reading HERE…]