Why Our Feelings Make Poor Windows (And How We Can See God More Clearly)

We were racing out the door on a long-ago February day when my seven-year-old’s feet stopped moving.

The hands on the kitchen clock silently screamed what I already knew. We needed to pile in the van soon or someone would be late for school.

But my first grader wasn’t worried about tardies or concerned about the time; she had something more pressing on her mind.

It may have been snowing outside, but the forecast in first grade was balmy.  It was “beach day” at elementary school— a day for reading books on beach towels and singing songs about sunshine, for creating art projects sprinkled with sand and playing games with beach balls in gym class— and my littlest learner was dressed for the occasion.

She was wearing a tropical sundress and her favorite seashell necklace, bright pink flip flops and a wide-brimmed hat. But it wasn’t until she reached the door that my youngest one  realized she was missing a vital accessory. 

“Wait!” she hollered while her siblings brushed past her with bulging backpacks and zippered lunch boxes, “I need my sunglasses!”

My seven-year-old  rummaged through a basket in the coat room as I grabbed my keys and slipped on my shoes. And, sure enough, buried beneath the fuzzy pile of mittens and stocking caps, scarves and gloves was a forgotten remnant of summer

She shrieked with joy as she pulled out her beloved pair of plastic shades. 

“I knew they were in here somewhere!” she declared as she planted the sunglasses on the bridge of her nose and climbed into the van.

“You look great!” her sister exclaimed as she surveyed our little beach bum in the backseat and gave her a nod of approval.

“And you look MAD,”  my first grader unexpectedly retorted. 

“I’m not mad,” big sister responded with an exaggerated smile. 

“Yes you are,” Beach Bum muttered under her breath. Then, she shrugged her shoulders and peered through her sunglasses at the kids who filled our van.

One by one, she pointed at them and wagged her finger in accusation.

“And you look mad.”

“And you look mad.”

“And you look mad, too,” she declared.

“I’m not mad,” her big brothers and sisters insisted with eye-rolls and giggles.  But my little girl in the shiny shades just folded her arms across her chest and shook her head.

Before everyone’s giggles could morph into ill-humored irritation, I intervened with a simple question. “What makes you think everyone’s mad today?” 

“‘Because their faces are all red,” my first-grader announced.

I glanced over my shoulder and took a quick peek at the four kids behind me. Not a single one had a red face. There were no ruddy cheeks or rosy sunburns, no pink blush of embarrassment or crimson shades of anger; just the pale profiles of my fair-faced children. 

“Their faces don’t look red to me,”  I gently replied.

For a moment, I thought my first-grader might be the one to give in to flush-faced frustration. But before she argued her case, she shifted her sunglasses from the bridge of her nose to the top of her head. And instantly, her slender lips curled upward in a contrite smile. 

“Oh,” she murmured with chagrin as she looked at her siblings again. “You don’t look mad anymore! I guess my glasses were tricking me.”

Those glossy sunglasses may have been a keen accessory for beach day, but they didn’t provide a clear window to the world. Those cheap reflective lenses added an eerie orange glow to everything in sight. And while those plastic peepers had no power to change the reality of the world beyond the lens, they certainly skewed the view.

I rarely accessorize my outfits with cheap plastic shades, but I know what it’s like to live with clouded vision In fact, when it comes to my spiritual sight, I can be quickly fooled by an unreliable lens.  

You see, the humbling truth is this—my own heart can skew my view of God’s.

If I look at God’s heart through the window of my feelings or the scope of my circumstances, my personal perceptions may warp my vision.

If I look at God’s heart through the lens of my disappointment or the peephole of my discouragement, I may view Him as careless or capricious.

If I look at God’s heart through the filter of my frustration or the spyglass of my fear, I may view Him as unwilling or unable.

If I look at God’s heart through the pane of my pride or my problems, my unmet expectation or my self-condemnation, I may view Him as angry or aloof, faithless or fickle.

And, sadly the more I peer through my own tainted lens, the more my view of God’s goodness grows dim.

So what can we do about our own contorted vision?

We can reach for our Bible and peer through the only lens that will never warp.

And as we spend time in the scripture, we can turn the words of the Apostle Paul into our own personal prayer. Ephesians 1:18: “Open the eyes of… [my]… heart and let the light of your truth flood in.”

It’s a prayer Paul spoke centuries ago over the believers in Ephesus, and it’s a prayer that can turn our sight from cloudy to clear still today. Because God’s Word isn’t just a collection of tales or a retelling of rules; it’s a spotless window through which we can see the heart of our Heavenly Father.

As we peer at God through the truth of scripture, we can readily recognize where we’ve been “tricked” by our feelings or bamboozled by our concerns. We can identify where our spiritual vision has been warped by our worries or blurred by our burdens.

And, then, like a spirited little beach bum I once knew, we can simply acknowledge those places where our sight has been skewed.

We can admit that…

The warped window of our hurt made God look unkind; but we see clearly in His Word that He is caring and compassionate (1 Peter 5:7, Exodus 35:6).

The warped window of our circumstances made God appear distant, but we see clearly in His word that He is always near (Matthew 28:20).

The warped window of our disappointment made God seem unhearing, we see clearly in His word that He is always listening (John 11:42). 

Friends, this is how we open the window of our hearts and let the light of truth flood in! We invite the Word to shape our sight —day by day, and night after night. And as we behold God with wide-eyed wonder, we can’t help but marvel at the view.

Happy February friends! Thanks for spending time with us here today. If you’d like stay connected to this community of Jesus-chasers and hope-dwellers, feel free to subscribe. As a welcome gift, we’ll send you ten promises to remind you that God is with you. Also, if you haven’t read my devotion for Proverbs 31 today, you can find it here. I’m sharing some thoughts on how to bridge the gap between what we feel in our hearts and what we know of God’s.

If you have a minute before you go, we’d love to know what truth from scripture is encouraging your heart right now. Tell us about it in the comments.

Oh yeah, one more thing! I’d love to bring a message of encouragement to your next women’s event. Check out my speaking topics here and don’t hesitate to email me if you’d like to partner in ministry in the year to come.