When I look in the mirror, what do I see?
Who is this reflection staring back at me?
I hardly recognise the me I used to be—
the portrait shifting slowly through the years.
Am I still me? Am I really here,
or just an echo shaped by my own imagination?

Where did I go?
Who do you see when you look at me?
I wandered the looking glass like Alice,
lost in a maze of illusions I crafted—
all the times I tried not to be me,
to fit the mould the world insisted on.
Hide who you are.
No one wants the real you.
And so the real me faded.

But then You came—
Your voice gentle against my soul.
You whispered, You are not the person you behold.
And You shattered the glass that held me captive,
opening the way for me to see myself
through Your eyes instead of mine.

You said, I love you just as you are.
I formed you to shine like the stars.
I gave you life more abundant than you’ve dared to believe.
You carry value beyond compare,
unique in every fibre of who you are—
a masterpiece, fearfully made
by the hands of the Master Himself.

So now, when I look into the mirror,
what do I see?
I see Jesus—
my Saviour,
my truth,
quietly, faithfully
looking back at me.