Mirror, Mirror
We’ve all heard the expression the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. Many of us have probably also heard people throughout our lives tell us that we are just like our mom or dad in one way or another. There seems to be something particularly human about trying to categorize and sort people by different traits. Maybe it helps us make sense of the world around us. What I have often found so interesting is that so many of us can easily describe and deeply know our friends and family but struggle to describe and deeply know ourselves.
Why is that? Are we afraid to face who we truly are? Are we worried that if we get to know ourselves intimately, we will be disappointed with who we find? We shouldn’t be. We are all divinely designed and made for a purpose. There is nothing we could ever do that would make our Creator turn away from us or stop loving us. Nothing. He came to Earth, suffered, and died for me and for you. Not because we earned it. We could never earn that. But because he loves us that much. Exactly the way we are. Let that sink in.
As a mother, I have found great wonder and joy in discovering who my children are. It takes time to get to know your kids, and I’m sure they will continue to surprise me and cause me to rethink how I see them over the years to come.
One unexpected joy of motherhood has been the way learning about my children has taught me things about myself. Maybe I can see it more clearly because I’m observing it from the outside. Maybe I see it more clearly because I observe them with complete love and less judgment than I view myself.
Watching my oldest has helped me realize that people can be (and I am) both strong and deeply feeling at the same time. I see myself in her in the way she puts on a brave face and holds it together, giving off the impression of a fearless adventurer, but I also see myself in the way she crumbles when she’s been holding it all together just a little too long. I used to see that in myself as a lack of strength and resilience. Now, because I have been able to witness it in my daughter, I can see it is not a lack of strength at all. It is a reminder for both of us that none of us were meant to carry the weight of the world ourselves. We were meant to live in communion with one another, and that requires admitting that we need one another in life.
Watching my younger daughter reminds me not to take life so seriously. She has an exuberant joy and silliness in her that also comes (at least in part) from me. She reminds me of all the years I had true laughing attacks where I could not stop laughing no matter what anyone did to help. I’m talking tears falling down my face, barely able to catch my breath laughter. My brother was often the culprit behind these laugh attacks, and I will always be grateful to him for that. When did I stop laughing like that? And how can I get that back?
If you’re not a parent, you may still see bits of yourself in other people around you. Maybe you see bits of yourself in that character in the novel you just read. (This, by the way, is my very favorite thing about great literature. Reading about fictional characters can sometimes teach us deep truths about ourselves.)
This week, I encourage you to take some time to get to know yourself deeply again. What do you love? What brings you joy? What gifts have you been given that you can use to serve someone else in your life? Getting outside of ourselves, while it helps us to see ourselves more clearly, is the real gift of life. We were all made for a purpose. I wonder what yours is today.
