Mirror Image.

strolling the street, trying to clear my mind, trying to remember who i am. I come to a halt in front of the sidewalk shop and stare back at my reflection in the glass. Who are you, I wonder? For my face is deadened, hope evades these eyes, my whole body slumped as if it has given up, and within my hand, my fingers grip securely to a recently fired gun. And suddenly, as if rewatching a scene from a horror movie, I remember what i've done..and I gasp...that's who i am, a murderer.  For I have murdered with hate each time it has poured from my heart.

I run away from my reflection as if trying, desperately to outrun my own self. Panting and exhausted, I come to a pause at another window. Hesitantly, I glance towards it, hoping to see someone else.  And there, appears yet another glimpse of regret. It is me, I am taken back to a version of myself in which it is clear that I have given glory to everything...everything destructive. Eyes weary and bloodshot, i squint, myself, to be sure i'm seeing correctly. Yes, it is me, with a drink in one hand and a blunt in the other...what i once thought was "free", yet my shackled hands and feet told a different story. I am...a slave to the world.

And as I turn, dejected to find some solace from my past, I walk through a whirlwind of memories that I've tried to keep down for so long...images of betrayal, abuse, panic, anxiety, depression, addiction, feelings of fear and doubt, rejection....I am sobered to the reality of just how broken I was...I am. Just how can I be of any use to you, God, if I am so damaged? I arrive home, ready to retreat into a cave of depression and shut out the world that threatens to break me apart, once more. Reaching home, however, I am faced with one last mirror reflection and I close my eyes entirely, not wanting to see anymore! But i force myself to look.

What I saw that day has forever changed me. For it was rather, who I saw, and that, being Jesus, himself. To my surprise, I saw the gentle eyes of my Father, beckoning me to see his masterpiece. He opened my eyes to recall each time he built me back up from pain, every instance where he planted, sowed and cultivated seeds of righteousness, trust, faithfulness...pieces of his own heart in places where mine was dead, damaged and torn. It was as if he laid hand to everything within me...and with every touch, delicately restoring me back to himself...back to how he originally created me. And I see myself as whole...I see myself, not as I deserve, but how my Father who formed me, sees me to be. With eyes of loving grace.  And what is more...I see Jesus.

And he turned to me and saw me, and spoke "I have seen you. From the very beginning I have seen you. What you see as a broken vessel, I see as beautiful. And what has been damaged, is an area of special delight to me, in that, I see the extra care...the places in which have turned from dying desert to vibrant life...and that is my favorite. Darkness claimed for Light, by my voice. I have called you forth...you are mine. And when the truth gets too blurry, and you can only see yourself, I will always remind you. You are mine."