In His Image

I gazed into a looking glass
Profound at what I saw
'Twas a man with a beard
For I saw his whiskered jaw.

As I viewed this new image
He looked right back at me
Gentle eyes full of passion
I knew this could not be me.

He did not speak a word
As the mirror did reflect
A courageous man of valor
Of whom I must respect.

As my mind began to ponder
This image before my eyes
I new it was my Savior
My dear, precious Christ.

Oh, that I could touch
But a portion of his brow
Hand pressed 'gainst the mirror
But he vanished then, somehow.

I sat there with his image
Still fresh within my mind
Stunned that I had taken on
The likeness of my Christ.

"And just as we have borne the likeness
of the earthly man, so shall we bear
the likeness of the man from heaven."

I. Cor. 15:49