The Girl at the Mirror

Every so often we are given the gift of a feeling that rises within us and instinctively wants to shout “Me too!” It happens during a sermon, book, or podcast… in conversations with friends or art or moments when lyrics to a song so beautifully pierce our core. It is the feeling of connection and the realization that there is someone else out there who speaks your language. 

As a child, I would stare intently at my mom’s framed copy of The Girl at the Mirror as I wandered through her room watching her go about the routine of getting ready for the day. In my seven-year-old eyes I couldn’t name the feeling it gave me, but my soul felt sadness and discomfort. So when my mom offered me the ownership of this painting while my family was packing up to move years later, it was an obvious feeling of grief that came over me as I stared back at the girl. In her I saw the reality of growing-up, a life lived in the tension of pushing forward as we grieve that which we leave behind. It is the presence of sitting in front of that mirror with all our hesitations, while knowing that inevitably we will have to leave something behind if we want to grow.

Once again, I return to this girl with her questions and fears and unknowns. As I continue on this journey of graduate school and entering a new classroom of children, I look forward to seeing dreams come into being in this new year. It is a season of unknowns; a season I am wondering who I am and who I will become. It is my tendency to want to run toward the answers, but I know the fulfillment lies in the journey. My desire is to be present with the wondering, to be fully aware that God is working here. He isn’t as much concerned with the future version of who I will become, it is the process of who He is growing me into that marks this journey.