There's a Flaw in My Filter

When my first husband was alive, he was a real camera buff. He had the entire photography set up, from backdrops, to lights, to darkroom supplies, to specialty effects. He had many cameras and multiple lenses. He also had an entire case of filters. These specially shaped and colored lenses were amazing to me. They screwed onto the very end of the lens and their job was to add some sort of special effect to the finished photograph. Some were tinted a deep rose, others a smokey gray and others a sky blue. Some had different effects, rather like fun house mirrors. For instance the fish eye filter elongated the picture, while the halo filter made, of course, a halo effect around the photographed subject. Each of them did something different. But each of them distorted the real picture.
It occurred to me that each of us also has a filter. We have our own special lens through which we view the world, our family and even our God. Our filter is made up of our life experience. And it is through that filter that we see everything, and it is through it that we base our decisions regarding behaviors and relationships. For example, I had a friend named Carrie. When I met her she was twenty-two years old and searching for a faith. Upon meeting Carrie, one had to notice that she had burn scars on one side of her face, neck and arms. She was in fact, missing the lower part of one arm and two fingers on the other hand. She did her best to camoflauge her scars but they were still glaringly visible. Carrie and I quickly became friends. We studied God's Word for several months. I could tell that she was ready to claim Christ as her savior, ready to put Him on in baptism, but something was holding her back. I prayed for her daily, asking God to open her heart and give me the words she needed to hear. One night after Bible study, I noticed Carrie was very quiet. She did not want a brownie or coffee and she was not her usual smiling and conversational self. She said she was very tired, she gave me a hug and headed home. At one o'clock in the morning, my phone rang. It was Carrie. She was sobbing and asked if she could come over. A few minutes later she arrived at the door and I could tell she'd been crying for quite some time. We sat on the sofa for what seemed like forever, she sobbing, me handing her tissues and patting her hand. Finally she spoke. She said, "Neva, I know I need Jesus as my Savior and I know I need the Holy Spirit to guide me, but I don't know how to get that without having God for my Father." I was shocked and I remember swallowing very hard, hoping it was not also very loud. We talked for quite some time before she finally began her explanation. She told me that she'd had a very bad childhood. She told me that her mom worked all the time and that her dad was very abusive and mean. She said that often her dad would come home and inform the family that they were moving, right then. They would gather up what they could and sneak away, away from the bill collectors, away from the landlord, away from the job he'd just been fired from and away from any friends she might have made, any support system she might have had. Her dad had a temper and her mom, and Carrie and her sister had often been the object of his rage. The constant moving allowed him to take out his anger on the nearest person, move on to a new job, a new neighbor, a new school, a new hospital. They had all suffered broken bones at his hands and wounds that required stitches. Carrie and her sister Evelyn, learned from their mother and none of them said a word. They did not cry out when his fists and feet came at them, tearing their skin, bruising their muscles and breaking their bones. They knew to take the abuse quietly and then when he was spent, to comfort each other. Carrie remembered a time when her parents seemed to argue more than usual. She remembered her mom asking her father to leave. She remembered the three of them lying in the same bed all night, watching the door, jumping at every sound, her mom holding a hammer, all of them fearing her dad would come back home and the rage would start again.
Their worst nightmare came true and one night he came home angrier than ever. He beat them all, doused them with gasoline and set them on fire. Carrie's mother died in the fire, as did Evelyn. Carrie was taken to a burn center and remained in critical condition for quite some time. After many months in a rehabilitation center and multiple skin grafts and other surgeries, Carrie remained a scarred and disabled young woman, a young woman with a broken heart and a young woman with a distorted view of what a father is.
I cried with Carrie that night. We talked until morning, looking at scriptures about God's love, about His providence, about His protection. Together we found a Christian counselor and after many months of intense therapy, Carrie decided she wanted a Father after all. She remained my Christian sister and a dear dear friend until her death in 1996.
Carrie's suffering was horrible, my words do not accurately portray how vile the abuse was. Her body and her filter were changed and shaped by this evil, sick man. She could no longer view the world without the distortion. She could not accept a Father because she had a flaw in her filter.
It took a lot of work for her to begin to see clearly.
Every single one of us has a filter through which we view the world and while Carrie's was indeed flawed, I believe each of ours is also. Its a lot like buying a new car. Have you ever noticed when you purchase a new vehicle, all of the sudden they are everywhere? You pass the same make and model on the highway, they park beside you at the supermarket, you see ads for them allover. You see them in places they had not been before. So either everyone saw how cool you looked in your new car and tried to emulate you or your filter changed and you began to notice all the cars like yours, in the same places they had always been, now just catching your attention. Look at the stories that touch our heartstrings, notice the ones that evoke the most intense gut reaction. If you have lost a child, stories about grieving parents get to you everytime. If you have been widowed, you relate to those stories. If you have suffered or loved someone who has suffered from a terminal illness, you relate to illness related stories of survival. We all do this, it is because our filter has been changed, altered by our experience. This is not all bad, it makes us more empathetic and more compassionate.
However just as the filter on a camera lens distorts the picture, so do our filters. We view the world through our emotional experience. This distortion causes a change in the way we relate or don't relate to others. It causes a change in the way we decide where to put our energies, who to cheer for. It can even change the way we look at God and our relationship with Him, just as it did Carrie. Our filter can cause us to see things emotionally with total disregard for the facts. Our filter begins to form our expectations of ourselves and others. Remember the post yesterday? Sometimes our expectations become so unrealistic and so control driven that we end up drowning in disappointment.
Please let's be very careful when we interact with others. We don't all come from the same place. We don't all share the same experience and we don't all carry the same baggage with us. Therefore we all have very different filters and very different viewpoints. Our goal as Christ's bride, as God's people, is to view the world, view the lost, view the Father and His word and view ourselves through His filter instead of viewing them through ours. His filter is the only one that gives us a clear, pure picture, with absolutely no distortions, no flaws. What makes up your filter? How does it impact your relationships, your emotions, etc. ?

Peace,
Neva