This month, I had the opportunity to preach a sermon centered around an original piece of writing that uses a mirror as an analogy for our idenity in Christ and what happens when we allow others to influence our view of ourselves. It also addresses that we cannot rely on others to restore our identity in Christ. He created us and only He can fix us. Relationships with our friends and family can stand up to the weight of responsibility in fixing someone.
I hope you enjoy!
My Mirror Lies Destroyed
I stand there, eye to eye with myself, looking at who God created me to be.
Slowly at first, I can hear a whisper of another pointing out the flaws in His creation. A small crack forms in the center of the mirror. I lean in close to look at the crack, but it is barely noticeable.
The whisper grows louder, and the crack spreads. Soon the whisper is joined by another voice, and then another, all pouring lies into my identity. The cracks grow larger and larger. I run my fingers deep into my hair, covering my ears with my palms. I scream for the voices to stop. Surrounded by silence, the crack stops growing. But it is too late. I look at my mirror and can only see a distorted version of myself.
I swallow hard and my voice shakes as I whisper to myself, “I am not worthy of love.”
My mirror shatters to the ground and I collapse with it. Jagged pieces of glass are scattered across the floor as my body becomes only a shell of who God created me to be.
But then you walk into the room and see my body heaped over the fragments of what I once was. You gently rest your heavy hand on my heaving back, trying your best to comfort me. As my sobbing slows, I look up at you and you are able to see into my wounded heart.
You move your hand off my back and begin to wipe away the tears that stain my cheeks. You pick me up, slipping your arm around me. You pull me close and cry with me. Looking down at the ground, you find the reason for my tears.
My mirror lies destroyed.
You catch a distorted glimpse of yourself in the pile of glass and in that moment, you realize how I view myself. You look back at me, and you truly see me for how God created me to be.
You grab my face in both of your hands and over and over again you tell me about a woman who I have never met. She is confident. She is gorgeous. She is radiant. I stare back with a blank expression, communicating my inability to comprehend what you are saying. You could keep telling me how God sees me, but you know I need to see it for myself.
Eagerly, you begin picking up the shards of glass, looking for two edges that fit each other and taping together any matches you find. Little by little, a picture of who you described to me forms in front of my eyes. For the first time, I can see the woman you’ve talked about for so long.
Once you’ve put all the pieces together, you pick up my mirror so I can see the splendor of God’s creation.
But my mirror is too heavy for you to carry. Slowly, it begins to slip out of your fingertips. You try and regain your grip, but it is a battle you were destined to lose. You are not Him. You do not have the strength to hold me up. Your good intentions were distorted by the pressure I put on you.
With a deafening crash, my perception is once again shattered. I frantically turn to the pieces, looking for any pieces that fit together. Panic sets in and I am blinded by my welling tears. My vision clears as I feel hot stings rolling down my cheeks. I turn back to look for your help, but all I see is your back as you walk out the door.
