While living in Cairo we would visit a friend who had decorated an entire wall with mirrors from the Middle East.
It was stunning. Some were intricate, some plain; some burnished gold, some silver, some wooden. All of them were unique. All of them were beautiful. Their only common feature was the glass that reflected out of them. Glass that caught the faces and mannerisms of people in the room.
I have a wall of mirrors. Five. Each one is beautiful, each one unique. And each one reflects back the good and the bad of their parents.
They mirror creativity and stubbornness; brains and insecurity; a strong sense of justice and misplaced reactions. They reflect wonder, wrong, and sin.
Fun but Scary these mirrors are! I catch that ugly look of envy and know it came from me. I pray as I see the look of defeat, so familiar to me, now seen in my children mirrors. I laugh as I see the sense of humor and laughter, the eyes alight with a thought that brings joy.
My wall of mirrors slowly gets smaller. They’ve graduated to other places and will one day have mirrors of their own.
And I think about the Great Creator of this wall of mirrors, the almighty God who surely knew them in their mother’s womb. A God who “knows where they sit and where they stand”, knows what they think and where they’re going. Nothing is hidden from this Creator God.
He sees this wall in all its beauty and frailty – He loves my wall of mirrors.
