One of the amenities I loved most about our accessible Chicago hotel room the four summers our daughter participated in physical therapy in the Windy City was the lighted magnifying mirror on a hinge in the bathroom.
Trust me. I realize I am easily entertained and impressed.
I guess I never realized how poor a job I did of plucking my eyebrows until the situation was literally lit and magnified.
My husband recently decided our home was finally ready for a posh and fancy cheap lighted magnifying mirror from Amazon. Again, we are a simple, yet easily impressed married couple.
The mirror arrived. I squealed. My husband smiled. My husband installed it in our bathroom. The lit magnification was amazing . . . until it wasn’t.
Dear Reader, this may be too much personal information, but if I’d never looked in the lit and magnified mirror I would have never known I have g-r-a-y nose hairs! Seriously, THAT was a rude awakening for the soon-to-be 50 year old! After the unsettling gray nose hair discovery, I started to look around a bit closer. There are pocks on my face . . . pocks! Cavernous holes! I have no idea when or how they arrived, but baby, they are there! And hair on my body, I have discovered, is not just in the “normal” places. I thought a bearded lady was just a P.T. Barnum hoax . . . until my face became lit and magnified.
Now don’t get me wrong, it is good to see this numerous litany of imperfections on my face. I’m seriously trying to do a better job with my face now that it’s lit and magnified, but on the other hand, it’s a bit discouraging to say the least. If ignorance is bliss, I can’t tell you how blissful I was, merrily not realizing my nose hairs were turning gray!
But I don’t think my face is the only thing being “lit and magnified” these days. Now, more than ever, as we human beings grow weary of COVID-19 and all the continuing difficulties the pandemic ushers into our lives, we find, uncomfortable as it is, now we are lit and magnified, our priorities are lit and magnified, and our perseverance level is lit and magnified. Sometimes this is an okay thing for us. We are grateful we can dispose of the “gray,” or cover the “pocks,” or remove the “hair.” But other times, with our soul and our identity being lit and magnified, it makes us uncomfortable. It’s forcing us to take a good, deep, solid look at our imperfections, which isn’t always easy.
Some of us have embraced, or at least accepted, the lit magnification. Some of us pretend that nothing has changed or at least it will all go away soon. And some of us, well, we’ve just taken the lit magnification mirror off the wall and shipped it back to Amazon!
A gal recently said she didn’t want her children to have to be out and about in life when it didn’t look normal. Oh ma’am, I, too, totally wish my daughter didn’t have to be out and about in life when it doesn’t look normal. You see, a college senior who can’t stand up out of her wheelchair is far from normal. But whether any of us asked for it or not, this lit magnification has now entered all of our lives and we can’t really control it. All of our plates are incredibly full, as all of them look different with situations and ramifications specific to our individual lives. Yet, we all do have one thing in common as we see ourselves lit and magnified; the only thing we can really control . . . is how we respond.
Until the next Wednesday the Lord allows.