Let’s face it.

Besides focusing on the year ahead, sometimes, it’s good to look back.

Here’s one profound thing I learned this past year:

At the beginning of this year, I made a New Year’s resolution to lose 10 pounds … only 15 more to go. I know. Old joke. But my face likes it.

Speaking of faces, facial recognition software’s artificial intelligence can identify a single person out of millions. There are even apps that can create digital companions for you. You see their face on the screen and can have “conversations” with them.

Many people these days, so desperate for affirmation, for real community and attachments, are paying for artificial intelligence-produced romantic others, a face that lights up when you turn on your phone.

It’s tragic.

Here’s a headline from The Hill from last September: “AI girlfriends are ruining an entire generation of men.”

Here’s a recent Facebook post by a friend of mine, Dr. Geoff Holsclaw: “It is said that the eyes are the windows to the soul. But neuroscience shows that your entire face is the door to your nervous system. It isn’t for nothing that Paul wrote: ‘For God, who said, “Let there be light in the darkness,” has made this light shine in our hearts so we could know the glory of God that is seen in the face of Jesus Christ (2 Corinthians 4:6).'”

One time in college, a friend who knew me well was sitting across from me at lunch. Her eyes got wide suddenly and she turned around to see who walked by behind her. She told me that she saw my face change abruptly — in a highly negative way — and immediately knew my feelings for that person. Thinking back, I hope that guy didn’t notice.

At a recent meeting, a young woman walked into the room after spending a few months away. A friend of hers popped out from behind the door as she looked up. It was glorious to watch their faces before the hugging commenced. Their heads came up, their eyebrows lifted, their eyes expanded, the smiles grew like fireworks.

So much was shown in the faces of that moment. Joy.

Religious people sometimes wear a different face. Hollywood always portrays them as angry, judgmental, dour, toxic.

Religious people can hold themselves to a high and unreachable degree of perfection and, worse, expect the same from others. That’s a recipe for a miserable face.

Because we live in a broken world, all people — everyone we meet — are in various stages of brokenness. Sometimes, it’s hard to see the Imago Dei — the image of God — in them.

How does God see us?

In Numbers 6:24-26, we see the fundamental attachment: “The Lord bless you and keep you; the Lord make his face shine on you and be gracious to you; the Lord turn his face toward you and give you peace.” His kindness and love shines on us like the sun if we will but look up.

What do our faces show to those we meet every day? What would change if we let Jesus borrow our face for a moment?

That face looks beyond appearance, sex, clothing, shape, age, style, race (God looks on the heart).

That face looks past accomplishments, skills, weaknesses, failures (our deeds don’t earn God’s love).

That face looks around self-imposed categories and cliques and popularity and isolation (God desires to welcome us into his family).

That face looks beyond our shame, fear, pride, or arrogance (God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us).

That face ignores the wealth we think we enjoy or the poverty from which we think we suffer (as children of God we are rich beyond imagining).

He sees with eyes of great love and compassion, offering abundant life if we humble ourselves and receive his gift.

We need to take our eyes off the phone, the TV, the mirror and look someone in the face and see the grand potential. We are not to target them, to judge them, to reject them, to view them as projects or tools.

As Dr. Dallas Willard has said, “The measure of our spiritual maturity is how well we love others, especially our enemies.”

The joy that comes from a face of grace is the power we need to grow, to move, to get beyond conflict and build real community.

So that’s something I learned this past year.

If you see me around and I look grumpy or bothered, it’s probably just a case of what some affectionately call “resting b—- face.”

Or maybe I’m just not good at this yet.

But I’m practicing.

If we make an attempt at this, we’ll get better at it.

Especially if we let Jesus borrow our face.