Never Sleeps

While a pastor on the Fort Berthold Reservation I was honored with the Indian name, "NeverSleeps". It was primarily because I was often responding to particular needs in the middle of the night.

Even more relevant, the Lord Himself, Maker of all, "Never Sleeps".

Surely you know.
Surely you have heard.
The Lord is the God who lives forever,
who created all the world.
He does not become tired or need to rest.
No one can understand how great his wisdom is.

Isaiah 40:28

Welcome to every reader. I am a simple follower of Jesus. He is perfect, I often fall short.

Thursday, October 6, 2022

The Bathroom Mirror


 The Bathroom Mirror

(“His miracles are unforgettable. The Lord is kind and merciful.” Psalm 111:4)

He stared into the bathroom mirror,
the one with 1970s décor,
the basin was avocado, mirror framed in
wood masquerading as bronze, with even the hint
of varnish turned green.
He had looked every day for nearly seventy years,
20,000 times in his life the image appeared behind the
mist he had just toweled away after shaving and a
shower.
The hair was whiter, the face fuller, the eyes bore more
sadness than he desired. And, reversed as it was,
he rarely saw
himself as others did,
and negated their compliments when offered.

But, one Thursday morning, waking late, he opened the
bathroom door, put the dot of toothpaste on his electrical brush,
and ran it over teeth more rugged than he remembered. He rarely
used the mirror for
dental hygiene.

He took the shaving cream, a can of green and white circles,
and put a dollop in his hand. (40 years ago he filled his palm with
a snowcone of cream. It only created a beard of tiny bubbles.)
He learned the tiny amount was sufficient and massaged it into
his warm cheeks and chin and neck. He took the razor, now
five blades. He wondered, if he lived another 70 years, would he
heft a shaver with an even dozen cutting surfaces. And laughed
within. Applying the razor to his left cheek he checked the mirror

And his hand refused to move.

It had not been like that yesterday. He had never noticed it before.
Today, glancing at his image, the mirror was cracked, deep cracks,
long cracks, leaving large pieces of glass looking like continents
on a sea-less map.

He had also felt like that. He thought this was the truest
reflection yet. There were four of him, or were there five?
One had two eyes, one had three. One cut off his chin,
one enlarged his mouth. He never liked his reflection,
and now liked it less.

He never replaced the mirror. He had the money, but
maybe not the time. And he did not cry over the broken image
he saw now, each morning. But, for the next 3,000 days found
new things about his face. And picked one to show the world each day.

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