Foggy lens? Change your perspective

This essay was first published on The Daily BS on May 24, 2025.
I got my first pair of glasses in the third grade. When the teacher noticed me squinting at the chalkboard, it prompted a visit to the optometrist. The school photo from that year shows a skinny little thing with thick braids and those new glasses.
I distinctly recall putting them on for the first time. All at once, the world was clear. Everything was crisp and sharp, and I didn’t have to squint anymore. I was amazed, happy as a small, steamed clam at the clarity with which I could now see. I had not realized how fuzzy my world had been.
It was the proper corrective lenses that altered my vision. Finally, I could see easily and with no resultant strain. Those glasses changed my perspective.
As a much older woman, now, I still wear corrective lenses. Often, they get smudged, causing my vision to blur. It drives me crazy, but a quick polish with a cloth, and things are clear again.
“What is behind your eyes holds more power than what is in front of them.” That’s what Gary Zukav said, and I know exactly what he means.
Just as a dirty lens can affect your eyesight, a foggy inner “lens” can affect the way you view your life. This is often the hardest when we are going through trying times. Whether it’s sickness, financial distress, family struggles, or job difficulties, it is hard to see clearly when we are in the middle of it.
Those trials can be all consuming. If they’ve been long running, you can lose your sense of time. “This is all I’ve ever known. This is how it will always be.” That’s where your mind can go.
Here is where perspective is critical. When something is beyond my ability to fix or change, then at some point, I must make the choice to move from the fog into the light. If this “thing” has come into my life, then there must be some good that I stand to gain from it. I may not see it now, but if I wait, the good will become clear.
As the fog dissipates, I can begin to ask better questions. “What if this doesn’t last forever? What if there is happiness and rest for me on the other side of this thing?” As I contemplate a future that holds hope, my internal lens begins to clear. So does the fog in my mind.
Moving past challenge to opportunity opens new doors and vistas. It’s like having your nose up against a mountain. There, the mountain fills your entire field of vision; rocky, impassable, impossible. Stand back, though, and all at once you see its contours. You see the sky above it, the sloping of the earth, the path that leads up to the peak. Just like that, you can see the way through. The path is taking you to heights you’ve never attained before, and courage infuses your soul.
You’ve just experienced a change in perspective.
Another thing that mountains do is to change our perspective of ourselves. From the valley floor gazing upward, we feel very small. This is not a bad thing. It reminds us that there is a force and a being far greater than us. It tells us that we need his help, for we cannot do it alone. At least, that’s what standing by a mountain does for me. I don’t feel diminished. I feel valued, knowing that the one who made the mountains made me, too. I feel his presence as I climb, and I feel the surety of his love.
“Perspective is not a science, but a hope.” How true, how true this is. Because I know the Maker of Mountains, I know how my story will go. I know that in the middle of every hard and awful thing, I am not alone, that I have a helper. Because I trust the Mountain Maker, I place those I love into his kind and gentle hands, and I know that they, too, are guided by his help and shielded by his love.
Because I know him, I know where my story ends. All of my suffering has term limits because I’ve made my arrangements in advance. The worst that I endure here is the worst I shall ever endure, for there is no sorrow, tears, or sickness in the land for which I am bound.
How I love the perspective of George Washington Carver, the great American inventor, who said, “My prayers seem to be more of an attitude than anything else. I indulge in very little lip service, but ask the Great Creator silently, daily, and often many times a day, to permit me to speak to Him through the three great Kingdoms of the world which He has created—the animal, mineral, and vegetable Kingdoms—to understand their relations to each other, and our relations to them and to the Great God who made all of us. I ask Him daily and often momently to give me wisdom, understanding, and bodily strength to do His will; hence, I am asking and receiving all the time.”
It is by this framework that he lived. It was through this lens that he saw God, himself, and his own place in the world. Oh, to live with such care, intention, and peace! Oh, to see with such clarity, leaving gifts for those behind us.
On Saturday mornings, America’s small, caffeinated mom joins James Golden on his nationally-syndicated radio show to discuss the week’s essay. Join them in the 9:30 hour or catch them on your favorite podcast platform.
You have so much wisdom in your writings . I would like to follow you.