When I look into the mirror, I don’t want to see my broken reflection staring back at me.
Fill my vanity with erasers instead of concealers.
Uncover my imperfections, my selfishness, my narcissistic routine.
Reveal to the world my flaws so that it can watch you permanently powder them with grace.
May your brush strokes not cover up, but mend the shards of broken bits of a work in progress.
Finely dust them into resilient, beautiful scars;
reminders of wounds you healed and battles we’ve won.
Strip the varnish from my fingertips and tint them with an everlasting reminder of the nails that you stained crimson for me.
Lacquer my heart with a relentless layer of love for others.
Make it so thick with tender desire that I cannot help but let it pour out of me,
collecting into a refreshing pool that reflects not my own heart, but yours.
May I glow with the joy of the Son and not the temporary offerings of a bronzer.
Contour my spirit with lines of gentleness and courage.
Pluck from me the shadowed pieces of a fragmented life
so that when I look into the mirror, I am gazing at a brilliant likeness of You.
The Claremont Ekklesia: Winter 2013 Issue