How Grace Changes How We See
Before you dive into this post, you can listen to Philippians 1 while you fold laundry or drive. I’ve linked it here.
Want the next one automatically? Subscribe here.
What if the way you see the world is quietly shaping the people you love most?
It hit me in the middle of a Christian conference. I’d brought my daughter and her friend for what I thought would be a spiritually refreshing weekend. We sat in the crowd, music filling the room, speakers sharing from the stage, and, if I’m being honest, my mind was doing what it always does. I was watching people. Noticing what they were wearing, how they carried themselves, their little nervous habits, even the way they phrased their words. Picking apart what I liked and didn’t like, what I found inspiring and what I thought could have been done better.
I didn’t say a word out loud. But I didn’t have to.
On the ride home, my daughter was in the back seat with her friend, and I heard her say, almost word-for-word, some of the exact critiques I’d been thinking. She commented on the speaker’s outfit, the way she delivered her points, how the audience reacted, even the worship style. Before I could process it, her friend piped up to defend the speaker, pointing out the good she’d noticed.
It was like someone held a mirror up to my face. My daughter had picked up the lens I wear without even realizing I’d passed it to her. That lens was critical, quick to analyze and slow to encourage.
I didn’t realize then how far my lens had drifted from the kind of discernment Scripture actually describes. That was the moment I knew: I can’t keep living like this. I can’t keep seeing the world, my family, and my faith through a filter that always spots the flaw before the beauty.
This book, this journey, this study grew out of repentance, mine first, and now an invitation for anyone who’s willing to examine the lens they’re wearing.
Every One of Us Wears a Lens
Whether we realize it or not, every one of us wears a lens. It’s how we interpret motives, read between the lines, speak about situations, and even pray. It shapes our reactions, our parenting, our conversations, our self-talk.
Some lenses are shaped by personality. Others are shaped by pain. Some are inherited from unspoken family patterns that have been quietly passed down for generations.
But here’s the hard truth I had to face: if we don’t stop and examine the lens we’re wearing, we can spend years thinking we’re “just being real” when, in fact, we’re being guarded, harsh, or flat-out critical.
For me, criticism had become so second-nature that I didn’t even recognize it as a problem. I could tell myself I was simply being discerning, protecting myself, or keeping high standards.
That’s the subtle trap of a critical spirit. It hides under the banner of “wisdom” while quietly eroding joy, gratitude, and connection.
Scripture actually gives us a definition for discernment, and it may not be the one we’ve been practicing.
Paul prayed, “that your love may abound still more and more in real knowledge and all discernment, so that you may approve the things that are excellent” (Philippians 1:9–10 NASB).
Notice the order. Discernment does not lead love. Love fuels discernment. When love is absent, what we call discernment often turns into fault-finding. But when love abounds, discernment becomes the ability to recognize what is excellent, what is fruitful, what is worth nurturing. A critical lens looks for what’s wrong so it can feel protected or superior. A grace-formed lens looks for what’s excellent so love can grow. I hadn’t lost discernment. I had disconnected it from love. And without love, what I passed down wasn’t wisdom, it was judgment.
Seeing the Battle for What It Is
The Bible doesn’t describe our thought life as casual. Paul used war language for a reason.
2 Corinthians 10:3–5 (NASB)
“For though we walk in the flesh, we do not wage battle according to the flesh, for the weapons of our warfare are not of the flesh, but divinely powerful for the destruction of fortresses. We are destroying arguments and all arrogance raised against the knowledge of God, and we are taking every thought captive to the obedience of Christ.”
When I finally realized my critical lens was a stronghold, it explained so much. It wasn’t just a bad habit, it was a battle.
Let’s look at what Paul was describing:
Stronghold:
In Paul’s day, a stronghold was a fortified wall or tower built to keep enemies out or captives in. Spiritually, it’s a mindset that feels unshakable, like part of your personality. A critical spirit can become exactly that, a mental fortress where suspicion and fault-finding feel like “discernment.”
Argument:
These are the inner debates we rehearse: “I’m not being mean, I’m just being real.” “Someone has to say it.” “I’m just trying to help.” Arguments give the stronghold its voice.
Pretense:
A false front. It looks spiritual or helpful on the outside, but it props up a deeper issue, like control, insecurity, or bitterness.
Demolish:
This isn’t a remodel. It’s a teardown. Paul’s not saying “improve” the fortress, he’s saying destroy it. You don’t manage a stronghold; you bring it to the ground.
Take Captive:
This means to seize decisively. It’s not letting thoughts roam free but holding them up to the authority of Christ.
When I read that passage through the lens of my own heart, I realized that I had built a fortress without knowing it. The walls looked like perfectionism and excellence, but they were made of fear and pride. Criticism had become my defense mechanism. But what I thought was protecting me was actually imprisoning me.
Replacing the Lens
So how do you rebuild after God tears something down?
You start with truth.
Philippians 4:8 (NASB)
“Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence and if anything worthy of praise, think about these things.”
This isn’t about ignoring problems. It’s about looking through a different lens. If the spirit of criticism builds a fortress of negativity, the Spirit of God builds a home for grace.
And grace changes what you see.
Grace allows you to call something what it is without cursing it. It lets you confront wrong without losing compassion. It gives you the ability to see people not through their performance, but through God’s possibility for them.
When your mind starts to replay that same cycle of judgment or disappointment, grace interrupts. It asks, “What’s true? What’s lovely? What’s worth praising right now?”
And little by little, you begin to see that freedom doesn’t come from controlling what’s wrong, it comes from fixing your eyes on what’s right.
Invitation to Journey
Friend, this isn’t about becoming “nicer.” It’s about freedom. Freedom from scanning for flaws. Freedom from rehashing old conversations. Freedom from passing down a lens that darkens the world.
You were made to see differently. Not because your life gets easier, but because your mind gets renewed.
God’s goal isn’t to make you polite, it’s to make you whole.
So this week, let’s start by asking Him to expose the lens we’ve been wearing. The one we inherited, the one we justified, the one that feels so natural we hardly notice it anymore. Let’s ask Him to demolish what’s been disguised as discernment and rebuild it with truth, gratitude, and grace.
Reflection Questions
- Where do you see your lens the most, home, friendships, inner thoughts?
- What argument or pretense have you used to excuse criticism?
- What stronghold are you asking God to demolish? What truth will you rebuild with?
Prayer
Lord, show me the lens I’ve been wearing. Expose what I’ve passed down without meaning to. Break strongholds I thought were personality traits. Make me willing to think differently, speak differently, and live free from the weight of criticism. Train me to see through Your grace. Amen.
Scriptures to Revisit this week:
2 Corinthians 10:3–5
Philippians 4:8
RESET STEP: Change the Lens
Every time you feel that familiar pull to critique, pause and ask, “What lens am I wearing right now?”
Don’t rush to correct your thoughts. Just notice them. Awareness is the first act of renewal.
Then take that thought captive. Write it down, hold it up to Philippians 4:8, and ask:
- Is this true or just assumed?
- Is this honorable or harsh?
- Is this pure or polluted by fear or pride?
- Is this lovely or laced with comparison?
- Is this commendable or just comfortable to say?
Replacing the lens starts with retraining the mind. As you do, you’ll begin to notice what you once missed: beauty in people, purpose in pauses, grace in growth.
“You don’t become free by ignoring what’s wrong. You become free by focusing on what’s true.”
Want the next one automatically? Subscribe here.
Freebie
I created a simple Philippians 4:8 verse wallpaper to help keep the right question in front of you throughout the day. Each time you unlock your phone, let it gently ask, what lens am I wearing right now?
The wallpaper is available inside the Reset Room, where you’ll find free resources designed to help you slow down, reset your thinking, and live through the lens of His grace. You’re invited to join, download it, and share the Reset Room with a friend who could use a gentle reset too.
HER VIEW OF HIS GRACE 
Leave a reply to Jessica Lee Cancel reply