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April 17, 2018


I don’t much care for mirrors.


I don’t much care for bathroom scales either.


Unfortunately, both are brutally honest.


The other morning I fixated on a mirror. The bathroom one with the glaring six one hundred-watt bulbs overhead.


What do I see when I look in that mirror?


  • A mop of silver (not grey!) hair tops a too thin face.

  • Uneven eyebrows.

  • Eyes that have seen too much.

  • The whites not quite clear thank to botched Lasik.

  • A crooked nose, courtesy of a car accident at eighteen and botched surgery thereafter.

  • A mouth that’s skew thanks to a bad habit of always resting my hand on one side.

  • Wrinkles and lines that resemble a road map gone wrong.

  • Sagging skin.


I’ll stop there.


The idiocy of this analysis hits me, and I break into a smile.


  • The mop of silver hair (not grey) becomes a youthful tangled crop.

  • My eyes sparkle.

  • The wrinkles become laughter lines.

  • The crooked nose lends character.


Yup, I just had a face lift.


Now let’s go inside where God looks


Our heart.


Is it a Pandora Box of hatred, envy, jealousy, ugly thoughts with MEAN and MISERABLE scribbled in capitals across the whole mess?


Or is a face with a smile. A genuine one.


Full of laughter and light and love. Kindness. Empathy.


Yes, what does God see?


Cyber Hugs and Blessings All. Keep smiling!




Photo by Caroline Hernandez on Unsplash

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