I once was blind, my eyes bound by untruths and lies. My mind’s eye was once closed, and all awareness silent.
I once met a mirror and she showed me who I was. When I saw her, I treated her how I saw me, because I saw me in her. I felt I deserved the pain I’d been given, and so that is what I reflected back to my mirror. There came the ignorance and hate, my eyes still bound by tape.
And then there was heavenly force. Angels who tore the veil from my eyes. But then, once I saw, and shared but a smile with my mirror, once I saw her for who she was, she disappeared and was gone. And then I was alone.
I punished myself for having been blind until I no longer even had a mirror to see at all. I regretted and sat in unforgiveness of myself, with no reflection to see. I even sought out other mirrors, who were not clear as she.
So I sat in bitter weeping, staring at revelations in a pond of my tears. I sat over the water’s edge of my pain and the ocean called to me, “Heal.” it said. “How?” I asked.
I fought the truth of all these things for a long while, but then I got up and I listened to the whispering winds of the truth my pain had uncovered.
I was worthy of love, and I could not love my mirror or my reflection, until I loved myself.
I could not forgive or live in forgiveness and patience and endurance toward my reflection if I did not first forgive myself (or accept the forgiveness granted me).
And then I knew: my mirror fled me, for my embracement of her had been all too quick, and healing takes time.
“Anything rushed will not succeed.” my pain taught me, she also told me, “You must love your soul, before you can love your mirror or what you see in it.”
“Reflect upon yourself. Know that you are worthy, or your reflection will never realize how worthy she is. You will never treat her well, if you cannot see her through grace you’ve deeply given. And all this must be true in your heart before you meet your mirror again, so that your love of her can be true and pure and deep and sure. All this is so that you embrace her and learn how to, before she is even in your presence again; so that you will not have a chance to hurt her while you heal.”
And then I knew and I realized and revelations were seen by my eyes once blind. And I healed and I loved, but alas! Where is my mirror?
She comes slow, she comes gloriously, she comes as if from heaven. But she is worn and dusty, for she’d not been cared for before. So I take her with gentle hands and look upon her with loving eyes. For it is love she needs, not condemnation or ignorance or any of the things I thought I deserved or retaliation against her for what the world did to me.
Even still, we stand and look at each other, but from afar, for we cannot yet touch. Healing is slow, you must remember. And this walk will be a careful one; a steady and sure and strong one. This rope we will build and thread is one that needs tending to, so we may always have it to grasp and hold. This connection ought to come slowly so that it may stay secure.
Fasten us, O’ heavens! Make our connection secure. Let us travel with light foot and without haste, so we do not trip on our way. Give us sure footing, so our feet do not slip, and equip our feet with callouses, so that the hot coals and sharp rocks we walk upon in our journey will not make us faint or stumble.
Oh Lord grant us this: take joy in our love, as I take joy now in my mirror. Bless us so we may succeed in creating beautiful abundance of good things. Take enjoyment in our enjoyment of the perfection you have created.