What do you see?

When you look at me, what do you see?  I wonder......


A few years ago, Jesus took me by the hand, walked me over to a full length mirror and together we examined my reflection.  Horrified, disgusted and ashamed, I wondered if I would ever "look" normal.  Jesus answered my unspoken question with a warm smile.  He squeezed my hand gently that was still tucked into His and with His head close to mine, He examined the damage.  He looked into my eyes through the mirror and spoke directly to my heart,  "I'm working on it." 

In my first days of therapy I was diagnosed with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, Panic Disorder, Agoraphobia and borderline OCD.   Therapy was once to twice a week in the beginning stages because it was so severe.  I was convinced I was dieing. No one could reassure me otherwise!  I mourned the thought of leaving my family behind; my husband without a wife, my children motherless.  I felt powerless to stop this raging tornado that tore its way to me.  It's deafening roar filled my ears and the impending doom of its arrival plagued my thoughts every waking moment.  My body was so tired!  I was in constant discomfort from chest pains and stomach aches; I had a hard time breathing and felt as if I were being smothered to death by an invisible pillow.  Those days, weeks and months of physical and emotional pain, were needed to get me in front of the mirror.  Jesus was beginning the process of healing my infected, festering wounds that I had been so horrified of in the mirrors reflection.

In a session, my Christian Therapist/Pastor asked me to close my eyes and describe myself to him.  What I felt I looked like.  Barely able to sit still and with tears streaming down my face, I described to him the scene that I saw forming in front of my closed eyes.  In the corner of a dark, bare room, a little girl sat silently with her head buried in her arms.  The long, blond hair that spilled over her folded arms looked stringy, dirty and wet.  She made me shiver.  The only thing she wore was a filthy, white night gown and her feet were bare on the cold, dirty cement floor.  Even though her face remained hidden in her arms, I knew exactly who she was.  I couldn't go to her.  Even though I knew all she wanted was to be seen, to be comforted and to be healed, I couldn't move.   I just left her there, cold and alone huddled in the corner.  Weeks went by, and I left her there untouched and undisturbed until one day, my therapist asked me to bring Jesus in.  I watched in my minds eye as Jesus walked up to the little girl.  Gently, he lifted her chin and a dirty face streaked with tears met His gaze.  There they sat, just looking into each others eyes.  The girl silently crying while Jesus lovingly wiped away her tears.  I began to sob as Jesus knelt down and scooped the little girl up into His arms.  He began to comfort her; gently rocking her back and forth while softly whispering comforting words and smoothing her dirty, greasy hair.  It was then that I felt brave enough to enter the room.  Jesus was there now and I didn't have to face her alone.  Kneeling beside the two, Jesus held out his arm to me. It was time to accept and comfort this child.  I had to acknowledge who she was, what she went through and what she needed.  She needed me to see her and Jesus to heal her.



When I look at me?  What do I see......I wonder........


In my last days of therapy, my therapist asked me to close my eyes and describe myself to him.  What I felt I looked like.  With my eyes closed tight, happy tears streaming down my face, I described a much different child.  A beautiful snapshot of a glowing, rosy cheeked, happy, little girl appeared before me.  Her once dirty, blond hair now shiny and clean was brushed back into two neat pigtails tied with pink ribbon.  Jesus took care of her.  I am comforted, happy and whole.

It's been several years since my years in therapy when I faced that little girl in the mirror. My sores and wounds have since healed and though many scars remain, I'm not ashamed of them. It's what my Saviour allowed and they are a part of me just as my blue eyes are. My scars make me special, unique and equipped with an armoury that not everyone gets to battle with. I hope to use these weapons for God's glory and to be able to help other people face their own reflections in the mirror.



When you look at others, what do you see?  I wonder.....



Behind every smile there is a story.  So often we hide our reflections; keeping our wounds and scars secretly hiden underneath robes of shame and fear.   Please pray today that the Lord will help you see someone in need.  One person can make such a big impact in a hurting persons life.  We are told in Gal. 5:13 that we are to love and serve one another.  We can do that so easily through a bright smile, a warm hug or an encouraging word.  Sometimes, the best medicine is someone to cry with.  Romans 12:15 wisely instructs the importance sharing tears with one another and to help carry the burden of grief.   A card, a gift, a phone call, a smile or a hug....whatever way you are lead to minister.....listen to the Lord's call.  Let the Lord use you to nurse someones wounds today.