Fasting from Mirrors
Imagine life without mirrors.
A four-man team from my church just returned from a short missions trip to Uganda. Brian, Jason, Frank, and Irvin shared a common, striking impression of the people in that remote village:their overflow of joy. They were content. Truly satisfied with their lot in life. Bubblingly satisfied.
Brian is a member of our mid-week small group so we've had the privilege of hearing more anecdotes from Africa. Last night he reported a most thought-provoking incident. While taking a break on a hot afternoon, he took out his cell phone, which has a camera, and started taking pictures of the village kids. He would snap the shot and then turn the image so the kids could see it. They were utterly fascinated. Much moreso than American kids with cameras. At first Brian wasn't sure why they all kept dancing around and, in their own language, clearly indicating "take one of me!" Then it hit him: For most--maybe all of them-this was the first time they had ever seen their own reflections.
One woman in the group quipped, "THAT's their secret! I'd be happy, too, if I didn't know what I really looked like."
A man in the group whom I really love (okay, he's my husband) has a silver hairline that's been receding like a California coastline. He agreed that life without mirrors might be one key to happiness. Not joy, but happiness. (No hair. No mirror. No bad hair day.)Paul and I talked on the ride home about the role mirrors play in Americans' self-absorption and subsequent discontent.
So I've been meditating on this whole thing. My worst days start when I talk to the woman in the mirror about the woman in the mirror. The one whose had songs and statements written about her. ("She ain't what she used ta be. The one who sings when it's over, etc.) The one who suffers often with accusing lies from her Worst Enemy--Satan, the one "who tempts [her] to despair, and tells [her] of the guilt within."
My best days start when I tell this same woman about the love of her Lord. Of His great desire to continue the work He started in her. I tell her to look "upward... and see Him there, who made an end of all [her] sin." I often must remind her rejoice that her name is in written in the Lamb's book of Life. I tell her that, no matter what she does, no matter how bad or ow good her performance as a wife, mother, daughter, sister, friend, housekeeper, teacher, homeschooler is today or was last year...she can't make God love her any more or any less than He does. It's amazing how the reflection changes when she is telling herself the Truth.
I've also been thinking about fasting altogether from mirrors. Experience some of that Ugandan euphoria.
A four-man team from my church just returned from a short missions trip to Uganda. Brian, Jason, Frank, and Irvin shared a common, striking impression of the people in that remote village:their overflow of joy. They were content. Truly satisfied with their lot in life. Bubblingly satisfied.
Brian is a member of our mid-week small group so we've had the privilege of hearing more anecdotes from Africa. Last night he reported a most thought-provoking incident. While taking a break on a hot afternoon, he took out his cell phone, which has a camera, and started taking pictures of the village kids. He would snap the shot and then turn the image so the kids could see it. They were utterly fascinated. Much moreso than American kids with cameras. At first Brian wasn't sure why they all kept dancing around and, in their own language, clearly indicating "take one of me!" Then it hit him: For most--maybe all of them-this was the first time they had ever seen their own reflections.
One woman in the group quipped, "THAT's their secret! I'd be happy, too, if I didn't know what I really looked like."
A man in the group whom I really love (okay, he's my husband) has a silver hairline that's been receding like a California coastline. He agreed that life without mirrors might be one key to happiness. Not joy, but happiness. (No hair. No mirror. No bad hair day.)Paul and I talked on the ride home about the role mirrors play in Americans' self-absorption and subsequent discontent.
So I've been meditating on this whole thing. My worst days start when I talk to the woman in the mirror about the woman in the mirror. The one whose had songs and statements written about her. ("She ain't what she used ta be. The one who sings when it's over, etc.) The one who suffers often with accusing lies from her Worst Enemy--Satan, the one "who tempts [her] to despair, and tells [her] of the guilt within."
My best days start when I tell this same woman about the love of her Lord. Of His great desire to continue the work He started in her. I tell her to look "upward... and see Him there, who made an end of all [her] sin." I often must remind her rejoice that her name is in written in the Lamb's book of Life. I tell her that, no matter what she does, no matter how bad or ow good her performance as a wife, mother, daughter, sister, friend, housekeeper, teacher, homeschooler is today or was last year...she can't make God love her any more or any less than He does. It's amazing how the reflection changes when she is telling herself the Truth.
I've also been thinking about fasting altogether from mirrors. Experience some of that Ugandan euphoria.
posted by Zoanna at
2:19 PM
3 Comments:
Zoanna, this is profound. My favorite post to date. I love how you capture C.J's encouragement to "stop listening to yourself,and start talking to yourself," at the end. You go girlfriend!!
Enjoyed reading your post. A ban on mirrors - what a thought... we'd never be able to do it. Your husband and mine will just have to see their hairlines keep on receding, and we will have to pretend we don't see those new wrinkles cropping up.
This is great, Zoanna. Very thought-provoking. This is my favorite post so far too.
Post a Comment
Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]
<< Home