Sometimes we get the sense that we're feeling our way through each minute like a woman pushing fabric under the needle of her sewing machine, stitching it together without knowing what we're making, how it will look in the end. We'll just take it a stitch at a time and do our best to make sure the stitch holds firm, is even, not so loose it falls apart in your hand and not pulled so tightly that it cuts off the air in your lungs.
I don't necessarily subscribe to the idea that our lives are meant to be lived so they will improve from one day to the next. And I have a complicated answer for why this is, but I won't try to explain just now. The short answer is that oftentimes our idea of "self improvement" does more damage than good to what fragile thing God makes in us, the person who is meant to feel, close and real and raw, whatever it is that He allows to happen in our lives. Perhaps instead of "improving," we simply come into form under the Sculptor's hand, emerge from the frozen marble one chip at a time until we are rendered. Not "better." But simply closer to the vision God already has, always has known of us. Sometimes we're so busy trying to improve that vision, we get lost in that criticizing mirror.
And that's why I'm going to stop looking in the mirror. No. Really. I'm serious. Just check out my hair tomorrow.