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.

The real deal

Seven years ago on this date, my doctor mercifully removed from my stomach our second child, Sam. That means, according to our family tradition, breakfast today included singing and presents. Sam could hardly wait. He had made his birthday wishes very clear and seemed pretty confident of success. Although they were reasonable presents, none was easily wrappable. So we had to be creative.

I wish I had taken a picture of his face when he looked at his placemat and saw three miniature paper packages. He was trying so hard to hide his disappointment and confusion.

The first one was from Brooks. Sam delicately opened the tiny square of wrapping paper. Four dried beans. Brooks, Jon, and I were all grins – Wow! Beans, Sam! Great! “Are these for me to plant somewhere?” he asked tentatively, trying hard to be happy like the rest of us. Brooks ran to get the huge green fuzzy beanbag chair the beans represented and relief washed over Sam’s face.

The next package was a tiny green paper leaf. “It’s for the new nature-themed room you have,” I said, excitedly. “You can stick it on your wall!”

Sam glanced around at each of us. Were we serious? “Um, thanks?” It felt good to bring out the potted tree he had requested for his room.

The last was a two-wheeled Lego vehicle Jon had assembled and wrapped last night. This time, Sam was catching on and was truly hopeful. “Does this mean I get to have my Legos back from time out?” We said no, we didn’t give him the same actual gift he had from another occasion. Instead, Jon wheeled out a brand new bike. It’s impressive, too. Flashy, changeable gears, hand brakes, shocks, the real deal. This was not even on his list and not a hand-me-down from Brooks.

It was fun giving Sam presents this morning. I love giving my boys good things. I was reminded of the topic of a Bible study from last week. Do we really grasp how much our Heavenly Father loves to give us good gifts? I have been turning that over in my mind this week, so I naturally thought about God’s gifts to us when we put those tiny gifts out for Sam.

We could not wrap a beanbag chair, a tree, and a bike and put them on the breakfast table. I am sure the treasures God has for us cannot be wrapped in such a way that our small temporal minds can begin to grasp them.

When we read in the Bible that God is perfect and infinite and just, do we get any kind of true picture of what that really means? Do we see a few dried beans or a huge green fuzzy beanbag chair? You know we can only comprehend a tiny representation of the truth of God’s gory. We could only possible understand the few beans, and have to take on faith that there is a vastness to God that is wholly beyond us.

Can we see God’s grace to us as a spreading and complex tree, or do we picture a paper leaf? Sam won’t have to look at a leaf taped on the wall to think of nature. He has a tree in his bedroom. God’s goodness to us surrounds, guides, forgives, comforts, encourages, exhorts, and builds us, but we could never comprehend the extent of grace. In His wisdom, God lets us see a paper leaf for now and we know by His gift of hope that the tree is there.

Do you wonder what Heaven will be like? I think we are supposed to wonder about Heaven. Because Heaven is the realm of God and built to His scale and dimension, we can really only imagine a simplified representation. We picture Heaven in terms of Earth, like Sam hoping to see his familiar Legos as the crowning gift of the morning. I love thinking about our true home in Heaven, but sometimes I think I might get tired of shiny gold streets and gates made of pearl. What a joy to imagine arriving in Heaven and God wheeling out the real thing. Finally we will know the truest meaning of home and rest and joy and worship.

Aren’t you glad we don’t have to settle for the beans, the leaf, the plastic blocks we see today? Sure, they’re good, and we’re grateful. Don’t forget, though, Paul’s words in 2 Corinthians 2;9. "No eye has seen, no ear has heard, no mind has conceived what God has prepared for those who love him."