What Do You See When You Look in the Mirror?

I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well. – Psalm 139:14

What’s your first instinct when you look at yourself in the mirror?

Do you admire what you see, making a point to notice all of the things you like about your appearance? Or do you criticize yourself, pick yourself apart, and think about all of the things you would change about yourself if you could? 

As sad as it is to say, I have a feeling most of us probably feel into the criticizing category rather than the approving category. For whatever reason, we find it so easy, almost too easy, to criticize what we see and tear down our own appearance. We are hyperaware of what’s too big, what’s too small, what’s too flat, what’s not flat enough, and the list keeps going.

I was talking to my counselor a few months ago about my struggle with this type of thought pattern. I was telling her how I rarely ever look in the mirror and think, “Wow, I like what I see,” and then move on. Even on the days when I’m feeling pretty good about the way I look, there’s still something to critique. There’s still something to point out that doesn’t look the way I would prefer.

She smiled a sad, empathetic smile, and then proceeded to give me a really great analogy that I want to share with you today. I hope this analogy helps you as much as it’s helped me.

My counselor began by asking me to picture myself at an art show showcasing a brilliant artist. She told me to imagine myself walking from painting to painting, piece to piece, taking in every bit of the artist’s work.

As I meandered through the exhibit, I stopped at one particular painting. There was one other person standing in front of the painting, and as I observed the artwork, I started to criticize it. I would look at the person standing next to me and say something like, “Gosh I really don’t like this one. If it were me, I would have changed this, left this out, and added this. I’m surprised this one even made it to the exhibit floor.”

Once I was done sharing my negative reaction to the painting, my counselor said to imagine finding out that the person standing next to me, the one listening to my complaints, was the artist. As soon as she said that, my stomach dropped. And my counselor could tell. So she asked me to explain what I was feeling.

I told her that if this scenario actually happened to me, I would feel horrible! Here was this artist that put all of this time and effort into making this piece of art, and I just walked up and started making all of these negative comments about it. He was so proud of His creation, and I was just ripping it to shreds. There’s no way the artist wouldn’t be heartbroken if I acted that way.

My counselor smiled, that same empathetic smile from earlier, and then she asked me this question:

Kristen, do you think God’s heart gets broken when you criticize His creation when you’re looking at yourself in the mirror?

My stomach dropped again, because I knew the answer to that question, and it broke my heart, too.

God created me with intention. He created me the way He did on purpose. He didn’t make a single mistake when He made me in His image. He knew what He was doing. And here I am criticizing it on a daily basis, thinking I could have done a better job than Him when we all know that’s not true.

I want to be the type of person that is in awe of God’s creation, not someone who is constantly tearing it apart. I want to be an amazed spectator, not an excessively negative critic. I know I’ve got a long way to go there when it comes to the way I see myself, but it’s something I really want to work on.

And friend, if this is something you struggle with too, I hope you’ll decide to work on this with me. I hope you’ll make a point to notice the beautifully unique things about you when you look in the mirror. I hope you’ll fight against the temptation to pick yourself apart after you’re finished getting ready in the morning. And more than anything, I hope you’ll begin to see yourself the way your Heavenly Father sees you: fearfully and wonderfully made.