Mirror, Mirror

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Mirror, mirror on the wall, who’s the fairest one of all?

Mirror, mirror on the wall, who’s the most quarantined one of all?

Supply whatever word you will. Supply whatever word that most quickly comes to mind. The image we see in the mirror is not what betrays us, it is rather the question we bring to it. Our idols are revealed not in the mirror’s answers, but in our very questions.

The questions that I have brought to the mirror have changed with each season of life, exposing the fact that my heart will never be beyond a stone’s throw away from a new question, a new idol. To ignore such is nothing short of damning pride. For years, I came to the mirror asking, “Mirror, mirror on the wall, who’s the thinnest one of all?” And this question nearly took my life. Now some questions we bring to the mirror might not be a matter of physical life or death. But all questions, if left unchecked, or if we willingly turn a blind eye towards them, will most certainly bring about spiritual death.

These quarantine days have given rise to new questions in the face of the mirror.

Mirror, mirror on the wall, who’s the most productive one of all?

Mirror, mirror on the wall, who’s the most generous one of all?

Mirror, mirror on the wall, who’s the most quarantined one of all?

And I find myself, once again, asking His forgiveness.

But, not only do the questions we ask the mirror take hold of our own lives and send them on a certain trajectory, but they impact those closest in our lives as well. I see my children gazing in the mirror, asking questions.

Mirror, mirror on the wall, who can have the “funnest” day of all?

Mirror, mirror on the wall, who has gotten out of the most chores of all?

(Those are an example of one of my children, but for another child of mine it might sound something more like this.)

Mirror, mirror on the wall, who is the “goodest” one of all?

Mirror, mirror on the wall, who is the greatest helper of all?

And if I, myself, am asking the mirror the wrong questions, I can only gaze in the mirrors of my children and offer them nothing but suggestions to make them look better, when I, as their fellow soldier, should be helping them put on the full armor of God, that together we both might stand to fight the idols of our hearts, the flesh, and withstand the schemes of the devil. We do not ask our questions on a secluded island all to ourselves, not if even if we live alone, and not even if we live alone during quarantine.

What question, then, should we be bringing to the mirror? Our eyes desperately need to see something in that mirror. Our eyes desperately need to see someone.

“Show me, Jesus”. Show me, Jesus, in His humble birth. Show me, Jesus, in His life, perfectly lived before the face of His Father. Show me Jesus who came to seek and save the lost. Show me, Jesus, in His suffering. Show me, Jesus, in His death. Show me, Jesus, in His resurrection. Show me Jesus, who now sits at the right hand of His Father. Show me, Jesus, in the Old Testament. Show me, Jesus, in the New. And on that day when we stand before the Righteous Judge of the World, and our days on earth are completed, our eyes shall not be looking into the deep recesses of our own souls, looking for something to commend us, looking back to some question that we have asked the mirror and tried to answer apart from Christ. No. Our eyes will be fixed on Jesus. The One standing in our place, the Lamb of God, slain before the foundations of the world, our perfect righteousness. May we come to the mirror asking to see only Jesus, and may our hands not be found empty, but grasping the hands of those in our lives, alongside whom we battle.

Mirror, Mirror on the wall, show me, Jesus, lest I fall.

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