What Lenses of Trust are You Looking Through?

As I get deeper into my forties, I’m actually growing old a lot more gracefully than I expected; certainly more than anyone who witnessed my frantic approach to thirty would have imagined. And rather than dye my silver streaked hair, I’ve embraced my “crown of glory.” I’ve long loved a little sparkle… so why not in my mane?

This season also brought the benefit of a growing indifference to the criticism of others. This is especially evident in my wardrobe, which has morphed to include shorts, shift dresses, and tank tops–my chunky arms and legs exposed to daylight for the first time in decades.

Yet, I just can’t seem to “act my age” when it comes to my vision. You see, I’ve had prescription glasses for over five years. At first, I wore them. Kind of. At least, when they matched my outfit I did. But then, I lost them. Then I lost another pair. And another. Then COVID hit and seeing long distance became a lot less important.

Reading exit signs doesn’t matter so much when none of us are going anywhere, anyway! What’s the point of corrective lenses? That is, until recently. After a few near-death experiences driving the unfamiliar roads of Flagstaff this summer, I broke down and made a vision appointment. And then, I got… well… how do I say this?

I got a new pair of bifocals, guys. Bifocals.

No, mine don’t have the classic chain to strap them round my neck yet, but I suspect I’ll fall to that level any day now. After all, how many times can you lose your glasses only to finally find them askew in your sparkly hair an hour later?

My own unfiltered vision shows a very different view of life. I can easily fall into treating my Christianity the way I’ve been treating my poor glasses. I can slip on those “trusting Jesus” lenses to match my Sunday best and come flouncing into church. Ooh la la! It’s easy to don them for a social media post or two, then lay them right back on my end table, forgotten.

When peering through the lenses of scripture and the Holy Spirit doesn’t frame the world the way I’d hoped, I can conveniently lose them in the busyness of life until some dire circumstance sends me scrambling for a heavenly perspective.

And, just like with my bifocals, I am struggling to get in the rhythm of this trust thing. Some things are so clear, yet others seem strangely out of focus. It’s obvious that I should love others, abstain from lying and stealing, and give to the poor. And I so trust Jesus in that. But in other ways, the middle ground of life, I don’t always get complete clarity. As much as I might squint through scripture and tilt my head in prayer, many things never come into perfect focus.

And in those times, trust looks a lot like walking around in my bifocals. I pray about it. I read my bible. Then I take the next blurry step, fairly confident that, though it may feel like I’m falling through the floor, I am standing on solid ground. Each step I take gets a little more sure as I adjust to a godly perspective. Some day, I know, this viewpoint will be natural. I won’t struggle with blurry vision through new lenses or a distorted viewpoint.

For now, I’m acclimating to these lenses of trust, and eventually, trusting Jesus will become so natural I’ll struggle to see life any other way. Hallelujah!