But I’d rather blame him. Blame them. Blame my past. Blame the abuse. Blame anyone but me. But I did blame me. For all of it. I wasn’t to blame for the actual abuse, the abuser was but I took on the blame, the shame, the guilt game.The blame game became inherently dangerous as it became a part of who I was. I had been victimized since a little girl and continued victimizing myself until I was able to look in the mirror ,past the past, and see my true reflection,His reflection. That mask of shame that had been etched into every furrow, every line and every pore on my weary face was looking rather weathered and beaten. Rightfully so. I couldn’t bare to take the mask off in fear of the secret being exposed but the pain of staying the same was far greater than the pain of change. So little by little, the layers, like an onion, came off ,including the deeply buried tears, of a little girl who never saw herself as her Daddy God did. I had to unveil and uncover what had been covered in shame. It was then that I found out just how beautiful I am, flaws and all. I’ve been transformed from the inside out .The mirror no longer scares me nor does my past because I see my reflection, reflecting His.
But we all , with unveiled face, beholding as in a mirror the glory of the Lord, are being transformed into the same image from glory to glory, just as from the Lord, the Spirit.