Reflections

Devotional

Reflections

A mirror has a perfectly reasonable job. We stand before it because we want to see what other people will see. Is my hair in place? Does this shirt look right? Is there something on my face? A mirror allows us to step outside ourselves for a moment and see our appearance from another perspective. But somewhere along the way, we can begin asking the mirror questions it was never designed to answer. Am I beautiful? Am I acceptable? Am I enough? Am I useful? Who am I? And the mirror cannot possibly know.

What the Mirror Cannot See

Scripture establishes the distinction immediately. When Samuel was impressed by outward appearance, the LORD told him, “the LORD seeth not as man seeth; for man looketh on the outward appearance, but the LORD looketh on the heart” (1 Samuel 16:7). A mirror sees even less than another person does. It can reflect a face. It cannot know a heart.

The song, Reflections, begins with a woman doing something most of us have done thousands of times: “Looking in a polished mirror / Wondering who I've become / Seeing all the little changes / Since the day my life began.” Age has changed the face looking back at her. Life has changed far more. And almost immediately she recognizes something important: “But the face before me isn't / All there ever was to see...”

Of course it isn't. The mirror can show the lines on her face, but it cannot show what put them there. It can show the shape of her mouth, but it cannot show the words she chose not to say. It can show the eyes, but it cannot show what those eyes have witnessed, whom they have wept for, what they have forgiven, or how many times they have looked toward God for help. The mirror can reflect a body. It cannot reflect a life.

Yet there is another kind of mirror we carry with us. It is built gradually—a comment someone made when we were young, a rejection we never quite understood, a failure, a comparison, a criticism that hurt enough to remain, a compliment we could never quite believe, our own fears, our own regrets, our own expectations. Piece by piece, those experiences can construct an image within us. The song describes it this way: “I have gathered many pictures / Of words said throughout the years. / Some were painted using kindness, / Others borrowed from my fears.” And then comes the question: “Yet I wonder if that portrait / Comes close to the one He knows.”

When Reflection Becomes Identity

A reflection does not have to be completely false to become distorted. The woman on the cover really does have the small imperfections of an ordinary human body. But the mirror exaggerates them. A slight roll becomes larger. A jowl becomes heavier. Hair becomes less attractive. Color becomes duller. The reflection has taken something real and made it disproportionately important. Our internal mirrors can do exactly the same thing.

Perhaps we failed at something, and the mirror says, You are a failure. Perhaps someone rejected us, and the mirror says, You are unwanted. Perhaps age has changed what we can do, and the mirror says, You are no longer useful. Perhaps fear stopped us once, and the mirror says, You are a coward. There may be a fragment of experience behind each conclusion, but the conclusion can become a grotesque enlargement of the fragment.

And if we stare at that reflection long enough, we may begin living according to it. A false reflection can make us timid, keep us wounded, cause us to hide gifts God intended us to use, or make us refuse opportunities because we have already decided we are inadequate. It can cause us to spend years protecting an identity that God never gave us.

What God Sees

Psalm 139 gives us a profoundly different perspective. David says, “O LORD, thou hast searched me, and known me” (Psalm 139:1). He does not end by hiding from that knowledge. He invites it: “Search me, O God, and know my heart: try me, and know my thoughts”, and “lead me in the way everlasting” (Psalm 139:23–24).

God's knowledge is not flattering, but neither is it distorted. He sees accurately. He sees the weakness accurately. He sees the strength accurately. He sees the sin accurately. He sees the wound accurately. He sees the gift accurately. He sees the fear accurately. He sees what needs repentance and what needs healing. He knows what should be surrendered and what should finally be allowed to grow.

That is why the answer to a distorted self-image is not simply better self-esteem. It is truth. We do not need to replace “I am terrible” with “I am wonderful.” We need to replace distortion with what God says is true.

Paul gives us that balance when he warns a person “not to think of himself more highly than he ought to think; but to think soberly” (Romans 12:3). He then immediately speaks of believers as “members one of another” with “gifts differing according to the grace that is given to us” (Romans 12:5–6). Humility is not thinking as little of ourselves as possible. It is accepting the truth about ourselves before God and then faithfully using what He has entrusted to us.

Scripture says, “we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus unto good works” (Ephesians 2:10). That means distorted self-perception can become more than a private struggle. It can interfere with service. If God has equipped us to encourage, create, teach, serve, or speak wisdom, but our reflection has already declared us irrelevant, inadequate, or unwanted, we may leave unused something God intended us to offer.

Fear does not get the final word either. Scripture says, “God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind” (2 Timothy 1:7). Fear may speak. It does not thereby become an authority.

Stepping Away From the Mirror

There is nothing wrong with looking into one. The danger begins when we give the reflection authority it does not possess. A mirror can tell us something about how we look. It cannot tell us who we are. It certainly cannot tell us what God can do with a life surrendered to Him.

The song, Reflections, says: “There's a place no mirror reaches, / Hidden far from human eyes. / Yet the One who knows me deepest / Never needed my disguise.” There is enormous freedom in that. God already knows. There is no carefully arranged version of ourselves that fools Him. There is no flaw the mirror can discover that He somehow missed. There is no hidden wound He failed to notice. There is no gift buried so deeply that He cannot see it. We can simply come truthfully.

Paul reminds us that even now our perception remains incomplete: “For now we see through a glass, darkly” (1 Corinthians 13:12). The mirror tells a story. Other people tell stories about us. Our memories tell stories. Our fears tell stories. Even our own minds tell stories. Some contain truth. Some contain distortion. None tells it all.

So when the reflection says, You are too old. Too damaged. Too ordinary. Too frightened. Too late. Too insignificant, perhaps we should remember who is speaking. It is only the mirror. And the mirror does not know enough to render the verdict.

The One who formed us does. The One who searches the heart does. The One who knows what needs changing does. The One who knows what He has placed within us does. The goal is not to learn to admire our reflection. It is to stop giving the reflection authority that belongs to God. Then perhaps we can finally step away from the mirror—not proud of ourselves, not ashamed of ourselves, but available. Available to be corrected. Available to be healed. Available to grow. Available to serve. Available to become useful in the hands of the One who sees beyond every reflection—to the soul behind the wall.

Prayer

Father, You know me more completely than I know myself. You see what is good and what is broken, what needs repentance and what needs healing, the gifts I recognize and those I have been afraid to use. Show me where the reflection I carry has become distorted by fear, criticism, comparison, failure, or my own judgment. Keep me from thinking either too highly or too little of myself. Teach me instead to believe what You say is true.

When an old reflection tells me I am unworthy, incapable, or no longer useful, keep me from giving it authority that belongs to You. Search me, correct me, heal me, and make me willing to use whatever You have entrusted to me for Your purposes. Let me step away from the mirror and become increasingly available to You. In Jesus' name, Amen.