I pinched at my hips, as I waited for the water to warm before getting in the shower. I studied my waist and turned to the side. Yesterday, my 8-year-old said I looked taller. I told her maybe I looked skinnier. The 15 pounds (yes fifteen. 1-5. You read that correctly) I gained after I broke my leg were slowly melting off, but not fast enough to my liking. I turned to the other side. The mirror at the gym doesn't give as good as an impression, I thought. I wondered which mirror was correct. The YMCA, where I looked short and stumpy or mine where I looked slender and smooth. Then suddenly I was hit with the answer. The only mirror that matter's is God's mirror. What does God see when he looks at me?
He sees stretch marks from birthing five babies. He sees breasts that have nurished these same children for their first year of life. He sees someone that worked so hard to over depression and anxiety. He sees a person who's feet are calloused because she runs using the body He gave her. He sees a body that has been injured than healed a thousand times. He sees infinite potential. He sees similar in all of us. To all of us He has given different talents and all He sees is how we use them.
I need to stop looking in the mirror and worrying about the extra inch I gained, that will come and go and multiply as I age. And start worrying about what He sees and strive to live up to it.