Now I have always been told
By those much older and wiser,
That when people look at me
They should see Jesus in me.

But when I was younger
And I looked at my reflection
In a mirror or a pool of water,
The only thing I could see, was.....me.

It didn't matter how hard I tried,
All I could see was me looking at me.
After a while, I didn't pay attention
To what they said, but to what I knew for myself.

My life had taken many strange turns,
And I became wild and rebellious.
I was deep into the things of this world,
And I didn't care what others saw in me.

Then my life almost ended
Due to my sins and failing ways.
And when I looked again at my reflection
I can not say what I saw, but I know it wasn't me.

I feared the thing reflected in that mirror,
I thought, That can't be me!.
For what I saw was what I hated most
And vowed never to look at myself again.

When finally I had driven myself
As low as I could get,
A stranger took me by the hand
And offered me a needed rest.

I did not know that quiet man,
Nor did I care to know his name;
I only knew that life was worthless,
And I was just the same.

This man pulled me up,
Then He put his hand on my head.
In words so soft and gentle,
This is what he said:

"Who is it, my son, that others see
When they look at you?
Do they see you,
Or do they see me?"