A Shattered Mirror

I admit my vision is distorted based on previous experiences. What has been said and done to me in the past has had an effect on how I see things – made me sensitive in certain areas. What one guy did has made me somewhat broken but that is not what forms my opinion of others. It’s what others do that forms my opinion.

Imagine that there is a mirror in my brain and my opinion of guys is based on their reflection in that mirror. Now I admit that past hurts, mainly from one guy, has shattered that mirror – possibly into a million tiny pieces – and the vision or perception of current reflections may be terribly distorted. But that previous guy’s reflection is no longer in that mirror. The mirror is now filled with the reflections of guys I know now. And it is the things that they say and do, their reflection in the shattered mirror, that make me take pause about how much I should trust them. Yes, the mirror was broken by one guy but it reflects the images of those standing in front of it now.

However, I believe that there is another mirror in my head. One that can see the positive aspects of even the guys who have been distorted in the other mirror. For example, I have a guy friend who has aspects of his personality that are reflected in the broken mirror and aspects of his character that reflect beautifully in the unbroken mirror. When he is talking about how in-love with God he is, and what God has shown him in scripture, or when he is working with teenagers and in other ministries, I could listen to him and watch him all day long. His reflection is beautiful. It’s encouraging and really fun to witness. That is his reflection in the unbroken mirror. But when he talks about girls and what he thinks is attractive, he is reflected in the broken mirror, all distorted and hard to look at.

It’s really strange that I can have two separate opinions about one man but I do. And I admit that my broken pieces affect my vision but my vision is not of the person who broke the mirror. I can say that with certainty. I am not still as affected by him as I once was. I have grown that much at least. But I hate having the distorted view. I hate being so sensitive to such things. My current hope is to have the broken pieces put back together with a glue that won’t melt away or smear the glass.

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