Friday, February 4, 2011

Has Four Eyes

 I have a confession to make. I use to make fun of women who wore their glasses on the end of their nose. I use to laugh at women who would lose their glasses while they sat on top of their heads. The idea of carrying my glasses clasped on the front of my shirt used to give me a giggle, and I have often thought the chains women wear around their necks to hold their glasses were tacky. BUT NOW – I realize why women wear their glasses at the end of their nose because they don’t need them for when they are looking up to see what their children are getting into. They only need them to read. And while I haven’t lost my glasses on top of my head nor worn them on a chain, I have put them on the front of my blouse.


I remember the first time I was putting on glasses at the eye doctors. The assistant was sitting in front of me, and the mirror was to my side. I picked up the rimless glasses, put them on my face, looked into the mirror, and I began to laugh. I took those glasses off, picked up another light pair of glasses, put them on, and cracked up laughing. This continued for the next two sets of glasses. By the end, I was laughing so hard I had tears running down my face, and the lady behind the desk was looking at me as if I had slipped a cog. As I took off the last pair of glasses, I looked at this bewildered lady and explained, “Every time I put on a pair of glasses and look in the mirror, my mother is looking back at me.” I don’t think she really appreciated my perspective.

For years I struggled to get out of my mother’s shadow. My mother was a well-loved, high school, English teacher. Her kids still keep in touch with her, and now her kids have kids who have graduated high school. So, I fought for my own identity.

While growing up, most people said I looked and acted like my daddy, but as I matured, more and more said I was definitely my mother’s daughter. In order to break away and have my own identity, I moved to Dallas to start my career and make my own name. It was good for me, but here I sat back in Shreveport looking into the mirror, and I was seeing my mom. It didn’t bother me like it used to either.

Both of my parents wear glasses. My daddy has a stigmatism. Have you ever tried on someone else’s glasses? I use to try his on when I was growing up, and I felt so disoriented and loopy when I attempted to walk while wearing them.

Glasses are reader specific. They allow the reader to see what they were otherwise missing. I cannot read unless I use my glasses. For some, their glasses make hazy things clearer. Regardless of what kind of glasses you may require, when you look into the mirror who do you see? When you see a problem, a challenge, what do you see? Do you see an opportunity?

Sometimes, we need to ask God to remove the scales from our eyes, so we can see what He wants us to see, so we won’t be limited by our own fragile humanity and ignorance. I want God to show me what He sees in other people because His love for each of us is so intense and overwhelming, and to be quite honest, there are people on this Earth that I have difficulty loving like that. When He removes the scales from your eyes and you look in the mirror, who do you see looking back at you? Do you see His image in you or just the selfish one? Just curious.

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