Mirror Mirror on the Wall

You know the story and you know there is a happy ending.  But the story I am about to share is still going on.
There was a time when I was sleeping on nothing except a mattress in a cold room. This room had no carpets and no curtians on the window. It was in an apartment rented by another occupant; it was a safe place to put my head for a few days. I am very thankful for this person in my life and the kindness of their heart to allow me to stay there for a short time.
During my stay in this room, the Lord changed me. If you have ever gone through a transformation, you know it's NOT easy; no matter what kind of change it is.  "Nothing Changes if Nothing Changes."

What do you see when you look in a mirror? Do you forget what you see when you walk away from the mirror? Do you look at the person's eyes in the mirror? What do you see behind the eyes?
I did and I saw a mess! I saw ugliness, shame, guilt, worthlessness, a reject, and a hopeless being. I saw me.

I literally took out a mirror and looked at myself. I HATED what I saw.
 I sat there and cried, talked to God. I told him, "I wish I was dead."  "I wish I had never been born." "He messed up when he made me." I told him I was tired of being in this pit of mine.

Let me share what my pit looked like. It was a BLACK hole, with no stepping stones, but it had muddy wet walls; slimy feeling to it. There was a lid at the top of my pit, not any pine straws, no grass, no hint of light whatsoever.  I knew I was NOT going to get out of my pit either. It didn't feel good, but it sure appeared to be my home for the rest of my life.

 Then in a split moment I knew what I had  to do. It was as if God came and sat with me on the floor of this cold room. I had to pick up the mirror and forgive myself for all the things I had chosen to do that brought
me to this place.  You see, we don't fall into pits; we walk towards them. The choices we make leads us into them.

Now you may think it's easy to forgive yourself, but it wasn't for me. I had come to a place in my life that I didn't like who I was. When I began to name each offensive action I made, and asked God to forgive me and chose to forgive myself, the dirt was coming off.  By the time I had finished my list of nasties, the Lord had washed me clean. I was still in my pit, but it was beginning to have stones poking out of its sides. I was able to take a step up. I was informed, by the Spirit of God, that each stone represented someone in my life that was helping me to step up and out of my sinkhole. My daughter, my co-worker, a pastor, a friend, and the list goes on.

Not this particular day that I am speaking of, but another. I felt the sun shining in my well. I was now at the top of my sinkhole and stepping on the last stone with God reaching his hand down, pulling me up, and helping me to reach the fresh air. I was standing at the top of the ground and not on the floor, in the dark, cold place anymore.

When we choose to make a change, there are people in our paths that are our balcony people. They pray for us and with us.  These people give us words of encouragement: "you can do it."  "I believe in you." "You can't do it alone, but I am here for you and willing to help." "are you thirsty?" "are you hungry?" "what can I do for you?"

Make the choice today to make a change in your life.  Talk to someone about the unclean, nasty crud in your life, and allow God to lead the way.  Your life story will make a difference in someone else's life. 
One day, they will need to hear your story.

Today, I look in the mirror and I see Jesus; I can't do anything apart from him. When I look in the morror, if there is any mud on me, I have to go to him and ask him to wash it away. He's the only one who can.
I dont' know what water hole you are in, what well you have stumbled upon, or what cave you have entered into, but I am here to listen to your story.  I am here to be a balcony person for you.
I hope you will share it with me.

Lord, as you helped me rise above my circumstances, I pray you will help my friend here too.
Thanks Papa, Marjorie