When your reality comes rushing up like a wave threatening your entire existence – you should continue to kick. For sure you'll hit something, a weak spot that will bring it all crashing down leaving you with the perception you want over everything else. Reality has its uses – but when you are the creative sort – there is no use for a pain-laden world with harsh lights and ill-meaning...except for inspiration. – Ty

It wasn't always like this. There were times when I didn't like the woman staring back at me. Many times I didn't recognize who she was. I had a problem with the girl in the mirror. She didn't understand me and I didn't understand her because she was not me. She wouldn't smile, she wouldn't move, she wouldn't dance...she wouldn't change. But the more I visited her, the more I began to see a resemblance of that girl in myself.

I got better, I even liked the girl in the mirror after hating her for so long, not understanding her and fearing what I didn't know of her. She was a mystery yet to be solved, a puzzle to be put together and an experience that needed to be had. An interactive one at that.

What do you when your reflection talks to you? Do you shy away and cover your face? Do you put your fingers in your ears and lalala the thing away or do you respond? Do you answer the question you've been asked? Do you listen to what you have to say?

I did all of those things. Unsure of my reality, my sanity and my constitution for having lost it all – I stood still and listened to what my reflection had to say.

"You haven't been getting much sleep. You need to rest. You haven't been eating properly. You need your strength – you need to be in good health for what's coming."

What's coming?

"A flood, a test. You will drown in a sea of your own emotion and you will fail the first time but you will be given another chance to pass. Don't blow it."

Of course it all happened like that. The waves rushed up to overcome me on the shore of my life and I flailed, kicked, spat and sputtered until I eventually drowned in the sea full of my failures, my lost hope, and my untamed emotion. I washed ashore battered, beaten and bruised – lifeless until a breath of fresh air filled my lungs and I was able to breathe once more.

I always have this image of God blowing a slow and steady breath into Adam's nostrils, filling up his lungs with air and giving him life. And of Adam inhaling deeply then coughing himself awake and into the new world. After you've been through some things, some trial, test or hardship it seems like when it's over there's a fresh wind that blows right through you to let you know you came out on the other side alright. Not without your scars certainly, but you're still breathing. Still there.

The girl in the mirror looked a frightful sight staring back at me. Like she'd gone through hell and had defeated her foe but was worse for wear. The battle shone on her face, in her skin and was alight in her eyes and it shook me a little. Had I been oblivious to all that was going on around me – clearly she was telling me that the battle was still raging and that I was still fighting. A war ravaged woman spoke to me from the other side of the looking glass as I stood expressionless and motionless peering back at her.

How could I not know?

I've surrounded myself in all manner of things. I've put my mind to use and have slept through the battle while it raged on within. Feeling just the remnants of battle in me. The tiredness, the soreness, the aches and pains from wielding my weapon of choice and the ringing in my ears from incendiary devices exploding too close to me. My life was that explosive...sending plumes of smoke into the air signaling the need for help and rescue. I received it.

Though she's gone through the fight and the war still rages within – she looks calm. There are tears in her eyes, scratches from the hundreds of hands that try to pull her back into the fold and a bandage tied tightly around her head to keep in what is left of her precious memories and her fondest thoughts – all to keep her mind from slipping while closing the large gap that is bleeding profusely.

All she does is stare at me, willing me to do or say something. Willing me to fight back, to rise up...to rage on. And it's good because I am no longer sleepwalking through my life. My eyes are open – they see everything – they're open.

My skin is alight with a fire that glows from beneath and I feel that too. There is a force to be reckoned with and it has yet to really feel me for all that I am worth. My reflection knows this and smiles because I finally get it.

There was never just a "her" standing there – but an "us" looking out at life with a smoldering fire in our eyes. Better yet and more accurately –

There is just me ready and willing to continue on until it stops or I run out of air – one of the other is bound to happen. But until that time...until the earth gives up the ghost and I am a victor...(already am)...

There is just me.

Also...Ash Wednesday brings with it, reflection, failure and redemption, peace and solitude. All of these things rolled up into one event. My fast has yet to start off on the right foot. No worries though – there is grace and redemption to be had.

I in my peace and solitude will continue on.

Lord,

A simple thanks for your redeeming blood and your perfect love.

Amen.