"Let's go in here out of the heat," I suggested to my husband as we came to a charming little shop on our stroll through "Jonesborough Days," a festival in the historic downtown district. At least it didn't say, "No Food or Drinks Allowed," on the door as most of the other businesses did. We were carrying free iced cups of sweet tea handed out by a street vendor, a welcome treat on this record-setting high temperature day.
"Look at that beautiful mirror," I said to Howard as we stepped inside. I pointed to a lovely, full-length looking glass in a carved oak-frame on a tilting stand. Checking my reflection, I suddenly felt disoriented. I couldn't find myself. Instead, I saw the miscellaneous items displayed on the wall opposite. There was no glass in the frame!
"Howard, see how you look," I couldn't resist calling. By this time a man was standing on the other side of the frame, and Howard did a double-take when he peered into it. The man laughed, but he had been fooled, too.
A little later, getting hungry by this time, we sought further refuge from the blazing sun by going into a quaint eatery for a bite to eat. This was our favorite restaurant whenever we visited; we loved the mismatched tables and chairs scattered around and the antique wooden booths with the mirror insets on the panel at the end. While Howard placed our order at the deli-counter, my eyes searched for a place to sit. No booths were available, and the only other place was a table for two sitting rather prominently near the aisle. We took it and were soon enjoying a chicken-salad sandwich.
"I didn't see all those other tables back there," my husband observed as we ate. I looked around, and not seeing any, I asked where.
"In that other room!" he pointed. I had to laugh. There was no other room. It was just a mirrored wall giving the illusion of more space. Twice today our eyes had played tricks on us!
Last night as we lingered at the table after supper with our daughter and son-in-law, stories and testimonies poured out as our two preacher husbands talked on and on of God's blessings. At one point, Steve said, "Did I ever tell you the 'Don't I Know You?' story?" It seemed that for a period of weeks or more during a time in their ministry, he kept running into strangers who said, "Don't I know you?" It got to be almost comical, and he couldn't figure out whether he had a familiar-looking face, or what.
He said after this had happened many times, he approached a church, looking for a certain pastor. A deacon or some official met him, and said, "Don't I know you?" Steve told him he was the umpteenth person that had asked him that. The man said, "Let me tell you what is happening. People are recognizing Jesus in your eyes. That's why they think they know you."
How wonderful to think that Jesus is reflected in our eyes! When I was little, I used to look into Mama's dresser mirror and tilt it to see the ceiling, or just look at the furniture in the room. It gave me a whole new perspective and perception, as if I could just step into the mirror and enter that somehow more desirable space, like Alice in Through the Looking Glass. If we keep Jesus in our hearts, we will someday step into a world that is more than we can imagine, and it won't be an illusion.
Oh yes, the first thing the pastor said when he met our son-in-law was "Don't I know you?"
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