Put the Mirror Down - A Poem in Progress

I sit in a constant courtroom,
and I listen to the witness testimonies for my case.

Some witnesses are there with the intention to save me.

Some are there to condemn.

But, they only know their side of my story,

so their witness accounts and their motives, 
good or bad,
 are of inconsequence to the verdict.

They like to talk anyway, and I patiently listen. Sometimes, I learn something.

The judge catches my eye during each testimony,

trying to make me feel guilt by

nodding in agreement when the stories are full of shame,

and looking incredulous when they are full of praise.

 

When I can't bear the looks from the judge any longer,
I cry out for the One with the pierced hands.

 

The One with the pierced hands takes the mirror off the wall in front of me-

causing the judge that was staring back at me
to no longer be able to tempt me
into the sin of self-judgment or self-aggrandizement.

The judge- the mirror- my identity- is put on the ground.

It is then that I can clearly see the face of the One with the pierced hands.

Sometimes, I put the mirror back up, wanting to prove myself
 to the judge and those in the courtroom.
When I put the mirror back up,

the One with the pierced hands is patient.
 

I am always able to put the mirror back up,
but I am not strong enough to take it down on my own.
 

He knows this and will take it down when I ask Him to,
but he gives me the gift of choice to put it up and leave it up as I choose.

He will never force me to take it down.
He is too loving for that.
 

He knows I am better without the mirror.
I just need to realize that truth and stop putting it back up.

Once in a while, witnesses share with me their side of my case.
But, they don't know all sides of my story.

They try to convince the mirror that I should do things the way they see it should be.
 

Sometimes, they don't know that the mirror isn't there.

They don't know that- when the mirror is down- the judge they talk to,
when they give their side,
 is the One with the pierced hands,

and He listens to them while He smiles at me.