Mirrors and glass

Earlier this morning, I woke up with watery eyes and a crisp, sore throat. Sickness had finally found me. I had definitely worn myself out over the past week and have been running on empty. Despite feeling crummy, I still forced myself to head over to the gym. My body was tired, but it was even more tired of sitting all day long for a million days. The gym was pretty empty at 9 a.m. this Saturday morning on the campus of a huge party school.

One of the disorienting things about this huge workout area is the abundance of mirrors. They are literally everywhere; sometimes I can't even find the exit out, because all I see are mirrors. I managed to find a treadmill, though, in front of one of the few windows overlooking campus. It was a beautiful view--all the old stately buildings and gorgeous trees were just reflecting the first rays of morning sunshine. Next to me were other girls who planted themselves on the treadmills with huge ceiling to floor mirrors right in front of them. Most of the glamorous people who grace the gym tend to only look at themselves while they work out. It made me think of how much they're missing! If they look outside themselves, they can discover a bigger, more life-giving picture--the bold, beautiful, and broken world out there, and God's redeeming work.

This theme seemed to carry over into my quiet time, when I brought all my sadness and frustrations to the Lord. Yesterday I seemed to reach the end of my rope, and was almost crazy with helplessness and despair. So when I was spending time with God today, I had a vision of all my sins shattered like glass on the ground. I wanted to pick up the glass and make something whole of it, but my hands only got raw and bloody by the sharp, jagged pieces. Then Jesus said that He will pick up the pieces for me; I can't do it. I can't make myself whole again, only He can. He didn't sweep the sin and brokenness entirely away, because they were still a part of me and my story. Instead, He picked up all the pieces and made a beautiful glass sculpture out of it. I couldn't really see clearly what it looked like, but the sculpture was of a person--the woman God had intended me to be. The glass reflected the light like a rainbow with a million different colors. He desires for other people and me to see that sculpture and the beauty that was made out of brokenness, but the point isn't to see ME. Instead, the light radiating from the glass points to His glory and His goodness and His faithfulness and His provision and His peace and His love and His sovereignty.