Two Different Lenses

In 1903, Amy Carmichael wrote a series of letters to those back at home which were then compiled into a book called Things As They Are: Mission Work in Southern India. While some hailed it a necessary and helpful tool for churches in England to know how to pray with greater clarity, many simply did not believe her. She had to compile the experiences of other global workers who had also served in South India to confirm that the stories were, in fact, in line with what they had experienced. 

Do you ever feel like this in the place where you serve? 

I don’t even think people will believe me if I try to share this.

Or, perhaps even more common: How in the world do I even begin to describe my experience when it is worlds apart from what my friends and family in my passport culture are living daily?

As one of our coworkers so accurately reflected, “On any given day, I could paint our lives here as a walk in paradise or a trudge through a dumpster.” And I would add that sometimes I feel both within the same five minutes! 

In Calm my Anxious Heart, Linda Dillow illustrates how we can view the same set of circumstances through two very different lenses. She tells about her experience living in Hong Kong for three years with her husband. First she shares their experience through the lens of adventure and excitement and the “exotic” side of it all. But then she tells the same story through the lens of realities such as overcrowding, crime, and high heat and humidity. I found it was a helpful practice for me because, as she points out, both realities are true. 

So, come with me for a moment while I bring you into my life in Southeast Asia through both lenses! 

I live in a tropical paradise. In our yard alone, we have bananas, coconuts, mangoes, and pineapples growing. We live five minutes away from the ocean, where we go snorkeling and spot all sorts of exotic fish any time we want. The people here are so friendly and welcoming, we often get invited into homes of strangers because they are so eager to show us hospitality. Our kids are growing up speaking two languages and seeing the world through two sets of cultural lenses. We have been able to travel and see so much of this beautiful world! There is adventure around every corner!

And while all of this is completely true, so is the following: 

We live right by the equator where it is hot 365 days a year. We are always sweating. We don’t have seasons, and I’ve realized that each new season helps life move along to a rhythm and provides relief and anticipation. I miss seasons. The ocean is filled with a lot of trash, so much so that sometimes we have to swim through it to get to the coral reef. Many people here have never seen another white person, so the attention we get is often overwhelming. Our kids’ cheeks are constantly getting pinched and people point and shout “foreigner” nearly everywhere we go. Our kids often feel stuck between two worlds and don’t know where they belong. Traveling and transition have taken their toll on us all. It’s often exhausting and confusing because, whether here or in our passport country, we always feel a little out of place. 

Sitting down and writing out our current circumstances through these lenses is a practice that has become so helpful for me. One doesn’t cancel the other out, but it’s important to be aware so I don’t dwell in the negative and become bitter. It helps me to not suppress the very real struggles and discouragements but, instead, to name and acknowledge them. And yet, writing these lists causes me to look at the good gifts that are still there, even in the midst of the hard, if only I have eyes to see them! 

After recounting the two realities of her time in Hong Kong, Dillow encourages us to ask this important question: Which list do you spend the majority of your time dwelling on?

How about you? If you were to write out your life as it is in this season, what would it look like through both lenses?