Mirror

The babe is tired. So am I, of course, but he is the one who has the luxury of someone telling him to go to sleep. This is my life, and I love it.

I rock him in my arms, tucking his blanket tighter as he suddenly determines he’s not longer planning to go to sleep. How a baby’s decision making skills work can baffle me all day. “Night-night,” I encourage. 

Gradually I realize that he has caught sight of something: the mirror. Haven’t we all a certain level of fascination with those? Cheering him on in his quest of discovery (a mommy’s decision making skills would be another study, to be sure!) I move to the right so he can get a glimpse of the two of us. 

He sees his round little face full of a pacifier, not sure what to think of himself. Often he thinks his little face is exciting, but this time he appears pensive, unsure. Until he looks up. Until he sees…Mama. A smiling Mama. A big Edward-smile breaks across his face. I can see it, even from behind his pacifier. He’s smiling at me. My heart leaps. I love his love. 

After a moment of sharing smiles, my son returns his gaze to the little boy in the mirror. He is satisfied that it is indeed himself, seeing that he’s in Mama’s arms, and he relaxes. I turn from the mirror, again wanting to help him wind down so he can fall asleep. 

But my mind is on the mirror rendzevous. 

So many times I look in the mirror of life and my heart is unsettled. I wonder, “Who is she?” I don’t smile. I don’t relax. I lose my orientation. What can help my weary confusion?

When I look up and see my Father’s face, everything tends to come into perspective. When I see that He is smiling over me, enjoying me, I see myself in a new light. When I see that it is His arms around me, I relax. When I see that He is not far away, but rather intimately involved in the picture of my life, I calm down and find a smile creeping up to my lips, begging for an outlet. 

My little son is sleeping now, tucked under his blanket. I watched the sleep overtake him, enjoying the beautiful picture of a tired son finding rest.

Now, Father in Heaven, it’s time for your tired girl to look up….at You.