A REFLECTION OF SELF
Every spring we brace for it to happen again. A robin appears at the windows of our patio room and begins a relentless assault. From dawn until dusk he hurls himself against the glass . He puffs out his chest, chirps in agitation, and returns again and again to do battle. To him, an intruder has invaded his territory. A rival dares to challenge his domain and he will not tolerate it.
But there is no rival. What he sees is his own reflection. The glass reflects the image of a bird equally determined, equally aggressive, equally unwilling to retreat. And so, the battle rages, an exhausting war against himself. It is almost humorous to watch but also profoundly sobering. How often do we wage similar battles?
We sometimes develop vendettas in our spiritual lives. We replay injuries in our minds. We rehearse conversations that wounded us. We imagine motives. We sharpen grievances in our minds. We strike again and again at the “enemy” we believe stands before us.
Yet in many cases what we are attacking is not truly the person, but the reflection of our own pride, our own insecurities, our own unresolved hurt. Scripture is clear about vengeance. “Beloved, do not avenge yourselves, but rather give place to wrath; for it is written, ‘Vengeance is Mine, I will repay,’ says the Lord” (Romans 12:19, NKJV). When we take vengeance into our own hands, whether through harsh words, cold shoulders, gossip, or silent resentment, we assume a role that does not belong to us.
Like the robin, we convince ourselves we are defending territory. We feel justified. We feel wronged. But our spiritual collisions often leave us more bruised than the supposed offender. There is a reason vengeance belongs to God. Only He sees perfectly. Only He knows motives fully. Only He judges righteously. “Shall not the Judge of all the earth do right?” (Genesis 18:25, NKJV). When we insert ourselves into His seat of judgment, we act with partial sight and imperfect hearts.
Sometimes the conflict we think we see in others is exposing something within us. Jesus warned about this tendency when He asked, “Why do you look at the speck in your brother’s eye, but do not consider the plank in your own eye?” (Matthew 7:3, NKJV). The irritation we feel may be revealing our own pride. The sharp reaction we have may expose our own impatience. The battle outside may reflect a serious struggle inside.
This does not mean wrong is never done. People do sin against us. Injustice exists. Harm happens. God has given us a higher path than retaliation. Just a few verses after forbidding personal vengeance, Paul writes, “Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good” (Romans 12:21, NKJV). The righteous know that God will carry the battle and we can stand in peace.
The robin never learns. All season long he fights his reflection. Exhaustion does not convince him. Futility does not deter him. However, we can step back from the glass. We can ask, “Is this truly an enemy or is this exposing something in me?” We can surrender our right to settle scores and instead entrust the matter to the Lord. We can replace retaliation with prayer, anger with grace, suspicion with humility.
When we insist on striking the glass, we accomplish nothing but noise and bruises. When we yield vengeance to God, we find peace. Perhaps next spring, when the robin returns to do battle at our windows, he will serve as a reminder. Before launching into a spiritual vendetta, we would do well to examine the reflection first.