The Fragmented Mirror

By Carol Woolum Roberts

I had a few bad weeks.

In my morning pages, as I sowed the seeds of what was happening in my life, I described it like this.

As I stare at the once intact mirror that is now shattered into many pieces, I don’t see myself clearly anymore.

That is how it felt.  One day I looked in the mirror and could see myself clearly.

The next day, over night perhaps, the same mirror shattered, and now I could not see myself clearly.  I only saw fragments of myself.  And the pieces of mirror were distorted.  I was not seeing myself as I truly am.

My response when I feel like this is to retreat.  Because my mind was telling me everyone hated me.  My mind was telling me I was an awful person.  My mind was telling me I had no idea who I was anymore.

A lot has been going on that is hard, heavy, dark.

The war in Ukraine.

Not being able to be with my dear, dear friend whose husband is near the end of his life.

A world still affected by a pandemic.

Soaring prices.  Civil unrest. 

I could go on and on.

But then a friend shared she was having a bad day.

The next day I shared about my mirror, and how I was feeling, and how I was not doing well either.

Another friend was going through the same thing.

It helped sharing about what was going on.  But the intrusive thoughts continued.

Later that week at our Creative Communion service we lead in our home, I shared how I was feeling.  We were focusing on Psalm 42 that night, and kept asking the questions, “Why, my soul, are you downcast?  Why so disturbed within me?”  I know the answer.  The answer is “Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise him, my Savior and my God.”

I didn’t doubt this answer.  I did not feel forsaken by God, or that He had left me to fend for myself. I did have hope in God.  I could praise Him.  But my soul was definitely downcast and disturbed within me.

But I found the pieces of the mirror started getting clearer as I shared with others how I felt and what I was going through.

The mirror started getting clearer by writing about it on the pages of my journal.

The sun breaking through the clouds made the mirror clearer.  The weather had been very grey and dreary.  Weather can have a big impact on how I am feeling.

A passage from a book I am reading from one of my favorite authors also gave me some clarity:

Even to the Christian this land of death is dark and frightening. No matter how deep the faith, we each have to walk the lonesome valley; we each have to walk it all alone. The world tempts us to draw back, tempts us to believe we will not have to take this test. We are tempted to try to avoid not only our own suffering but also that of our fellow human beings, the suffering of the world, which is part of our own suffering. But if we draw back from it (and we are free to do so), Kafka reminds us that “it may be that this very holding back is the one evil you could have avoided.”

The artist cannot hold back; it is impossible, because writing, or any other discipline of art, involves participation in suffering, in the ills and the occasional stabbing joys that come from being part of the human drama.

Walking on Water: Reflections on Faith and Art by Madeleine L’Engle

I shared with people.  I asked for prayers.  I talked to my dear, dear friend.  I wrote down my thoughts on paper.  I read my favorite author’s words. I sat outside in the sunshine.

The dark cloud over me started to break up, because a little bit of sunshine started shining through.

The mirror is somewhat repaired.  Oh, there still some cracks and distortions here and there, but overall, I can see myself with much more clarity.

Because I was reminded to remember something very powerful.

“You are loved.”

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What things do you do to help your soul feel less downcast and disturbed?  How do you remember that you are loved?

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