Mirror, Mirror On The Wall
It took approximately two weeks before I could enter the room with mirrors. But I knew that if I were to carry on with my life, I would eventually need to confront what awaited me on the other side of the door. I made many attempts but I was overcome by fear each time. I needed the strength of the Most High to re-enter this room.
I reach toward the magnificent and dazzling displayed and anxiously removed one from its place. As I carefully held as my hands it's numerous blemishes and defects were instantly revealed. I then examine other pieces only to find that many contained severe damages. They have been masked in the opulent simulations of beauty that they collectively projected and had gone undetected.
Propelled to take a long and deep stare into the mirror that I now held in my hands, I saw horrifying visions of the things I had tried so desperately to forget. The deformity of my composure was equivocal to that of the hunchback of Notre Dame and I appeared mutilated and defaced. I had been disfigured and scarred; it did not even look like me. But the Holy Spirit whispered, "This is what you look like on the inside". I shook in fear because the mirrors had depicted and accurate condition of my spiritual health.
Surely, that could not be me. I represented strength, beauty, and confidence. But when I looked into the mirror, when I saw was a broken, feeble and wounded girl whose identity have been swathed in bandages. No longer able to withstand the heartache I felt, I hung the mirror back on the wall and walked out of the room in tears. I told myself that I would never return to this room. I shut the door and left with my heart full of sorrow.