It seems like I could write a book on this word. Maybe I will someday soon since I have a couple of hours of spare time during the week! :) It is almost overwhelming how perspective is so involved in every part of our lives (and my children's lives!)
For example, my daughter decided today that she wanted to play with her Polly Pockets. If you are a mother of a Kindergarten-aged girl then you feel my pain with these toys. Okay, here is the concept for those of you unversed in the ways of young girls toys: Polly and her friends are basically miniature barbie dolls. However, instead of having barbie-sized clothes these dolls have rubber clothes. The idea here is that the rubber clothes are easier for little fingers to manipulate. I am not sure what test-panel tested this idea but I always seem to end up with Polly mashed in my grips while I attempt to put on her rubberized blue blazer, not designed to be compatible with big, fat fingers. The shoes are equally as frustrating for my daughter as they are smaller than tic-tacs. Of course the shoes aren't great big clod-hoppers either. We are talking strappy heels here - high fashion and difficult to get on Polly's teeny tiny feet. Now what does my daughter do the second I unhand Polly after wrestling with her to get her dressed? She takes her in the other room and undresses her so she can put on some other outfit. Of course a shoe goes missing and the frustration for both of us just cycles. Ugh.
Anyway, my daughter was trying to play Polly Pocket with my son. Of course the conversation that I hear goes like this, with my daughter doing all of the talking, "Don't touch that one buddy. Don't take that off. Don't do that. No, I'm the dog. Don't hold her so tight. Don't twist her like that you are going to break her." Amazingly, my son just takes it all in. I'm not sure that he hears half of the instructions, (He has learned the art of selective listening at an early age) He is just happy to play with his sister. Then, all of a sudden, my son must have breathed on Polly wrong because my daughter was out of her chair hitting my son upside the head with Polly's cousin Pia. Now in her perspective this was the only way to solve the conflict. Hit my brother and he will listen. Bop him and he will stop. Inflict a bit of pain to bring the point home.
The problem here is obvious. My daughter's perspective was jaded by her control and selfishness issues. Boy can I relate. Let me clarify, I don't go around hitting people with Polly Pockets but I do find myself operating under jaded perspectives. For example, when my perspective is overshadowed by insecurity than everyone who looks at me is staring at my bad hair or blemish. And of course anyone who walks by me at church without saying "hi" when they know me, in my limited perspective, doesn't like me. So all in a days work I have allowed the enemy to convince me that I am ugly and nobody likes me.
Oh to have a godly perspective. God's word says that we are His workmanship (see Ephesians 2:10). So when the enemy is trying to convince me that I am ugly I can refute him with the word. "Oh no you don't satan, my perspective is in line with God's and HE says..." If only I would be quick to line up my thinking with God's. It would definitely save me from a lot of heartache.
A candid example from my life just happened Friday. I was out and about and checked my home messages from my cell phone, which I often do. A woman had left a message from a business that I had left a message with the day before. When I listened to her message I had a jaded perspective. All of the sudden in my mind this woman was rude, didn't like me and thought that I was stupid. All from a short phone message. I immediately called my husband and told him of this woman's rudeness. He was surprised that she was so short with me. Later that evening when we both had arrived home I played our messages while we were putting some things away. I wanted my husband to see first hand the nerve this lady had in talking to me the way she did. As the message ended, my husband turned to me and at that moment I knew. I looked at him and said, "I was wrong, wasn't I. She really wasn't that unkind in what she said, was she?" My husband just shook his head. As I am sure my heavenly Father had when I first told my husband of the phone call.
Oh Lord, help me to live according to your word. Help me to see with your eyes. Help me not to jump to conclusions or allow the enemy to gain a foothold. Help me to speak out your truth when I feel like living a lie. And give me patience, Lord, especially with Polly's shoes.
