When I look in the mirror, what do I see,
I see the image that others get of me.
Do they see every blemish? Do they see every scar?
That serve as reminders of what I’ve endured thus far.
Do they see that I am broken? Do they see that I am whole?
Do they see me as warm or do they see as cold?
Do they see my intellect or are they distracted by my clothes?
Do they see my real beauty or the imperfection of my nose?
They can see the shirt I’m wearing but not the heart beneath.
That has been happy but also at times overtaken by grief.
Do they look past the outward so they can see my soul?
So, they can see the rawness and the love as it unfolds.
Do they even care to know who I really am or simply hang on to a thought?
Are they interested in the wisdom from all the lessons I’ve caught and taught?
Mirror, let me tell you as you hang on this wall.
There have been days when I’ve felt hurt and so small.
There have been days I was lonely and had no one at all.
But I’m content because by faith I can look beyond what I see,
For I know my Father isn’t done until He is reflected in me.
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