Reflections

Every now and then I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. Not just a reflection of whatever part of me is passing by the glass, but a true snatch of the inside me looking through my eyes. Or the set of my shoulders or the way my hair is lying. Many times when I look into a mirror and see the whole of my image, I see only a short distance – not really into myself, just as far as the small and tired-looking eyes or overweight body. But occasionally, I can look deeper and who I really am peeks out. The person I like. And at times like that, I think “Quick, take a picture!” but of course I don’t, because my camera, like my mirror, shows only the most outer layer of myself.

A time this happens more often is in the rear view mirror of my car. Why is this? Maybe because I am doing what I like and my face is relaxed and happy. Maybe it’s because I see just a small corner of myself in the rear-view mirror and my mind fills in the rest.

My son has a book about optical illusions. So many of them depend on the remarkable phenomenon that our brain can see a suggestion and fill in the distortions or blind spots. Our brain paints in what we assume in the picture, and we think we are actually seeing things not on the page. Of course, this phenomenon can go either way –beauty or ugliness can be super scribed over bare truth – but there is so much potential for our minds to be generous.

I have a friend who, among many other things, is a professional photographer. Her website shows she specializes in weddings, families, and individual portraits. In my opinion, though, her real specialty is close-ups. I don’t know any of the people showcased on her website, but my mind fills in what is unseen. When I see a bride grinning at me over the shoulder of her new groom, I don’t see what style of dress she picked, but I see a joyful woman feeling secure and loved. The view of the back and top of the head of a girl strapping up her ballet slippers doesn’t show what her face looks like, but shows the delicate grace and poise of a dancer. A picture of baby toes doesn’t let me know if I’m looking at a girl or boy, but just the precious perfection of a new life and a glimpse into a person’s future. What a gift my friend gives her subjects to allow viewers a chance to believe the best.

Friends I like to be with are friends whose minds fill in the rest with the best parts of me. As I think about this, I can clearly picture some people who are a joy to be around and I think it’s because not only are they unself-conscious about their own image, but they also choose to see the best version of me. Or at least hold up a true mirror. Or hope for the best. I remember complaining to my mother-in-law about my figure soon after giving birth to my second child. As much as I loved having that boy, I missed my pre-pregnant body shape. Without missing a beat, she just shrugged and said, “Don’t worry, it’ll be back.” Now, several years later, I am still waiting, but at least at that moment I could have kissed her. I want to be a friend that notices the best and hopes for the future and fills in my blind spots with something beautiful.

What does God see when He sees me? Sometimes I think He sees only the flaws. I know He has no blind spots and can certainly see all the ugly truths about me. I think that what is also true is that He sees a small corner of me peeking out from the embracing arms of His Beloved Son and His perfect and infinite Mind fills in the rest of me – not the flaws I have created, but the truest me He has created and will only be seen when I am in His home and made into my best version.