Comparison is an evil, evil witch.
I have never understood why we compare ourselves to others, but it seems that most of us do it, and when we do, the results are never in our favor.
You guys, I am so bad at this whole “keeping it together” thing. I’m the mom who shows up without a sippy cup, and who never has a packet of tissues or a Band-Aid in her purse. I’m the wife who sometimes doesn’t have the house clean and dinner made when her husband gets home from work. I’m the friend who has forgotten a birthday, or who isn’t as thoughtful as she should be. I was the teacher who wasn’t as creative at the others, or who didn’t get the results the other people on my grade level did.
I am so crappy at all of those things, when it seems like everyone around me is doing so much better.
One of my dear friends has the most beautifully decorated home you have ever seen. Everything has a place, and each piece of décor is thoughtfully chosen to add beauty and life to each room. Every time I go there, I think about my Hobby Lobby knick-knacks, and thrown together furniture, and I feel like I’m not good enough. Often, I haven’t invited people to our house because I feel like our home isn’t worthy of company.
Another friend has perfectly pressed children. I have no idea where she gets their clothes or how much she spends on them. It isn’t my business! I see the girls and boys with their sweet, coordinating outfits, and hair bows, and then I wonder how she gets them to look that way. Clearly, I am lacking some mothering gene, because my kids look like I’ve forced them to run behind the car in order to get to church. Nobody coordinates, somebody got dirty as we walked out the door, and another one hated the outfit I chose and changed at the last minute. It’s questionable whether anyone has brushed their teeth or their hair. Obviously this makes me less of a mom than my friend. I wonder what she must think of me.
Several of my friends are fitness consultants. They’ve shared stories and pictures of their total body transformations. Six packs and toned thighs flood my Facebook newsfeed daily, as my friends make healthy food choices and work out every single day. I’ve gained eleven pounds since September. I go to the gym sometimes, and eat healthy when I feel like it, which is about one meal per day. I have dimples on my butt, and my thighs have started greeting each other when I walk. I feel so unworthy to wear a bathing suit this summer because everyone else will look so much better than I will.
When I read these honest truths about myself, I realize the damage I’m doing. My inner self is constantly worried about what others think of me, and how I am so much less than everyone else.
I let my self-doubt take over, and I almost let it beat me.
You see, I’ve recently realized something. God doesn’t care about the décor of my home, or my kids’ clothing, or the fact that my butt got a little bigger. God looks at my heart. And when He examines me, it’s important for Him to see a woman who has a heart for Him; not someone who’s worried about the superficial things of this world, but instead is worried about the people living in it.
So, I’m doing my best to fight that deceiver, Comparison. The hardest part is that she lives in me. She’s the darkness in there, holding me back from being who I’m supposed to be. If I listen to her, I’ll never be enough. But…BUT if I choose to listen to God, I know His purpose for me will be realized. If I live for Him, I’ll be the wife, mom, friend, and teacher that He created me to be. If I focus on pleasing Him, impressing everyone else won’t matter. And I’ve found freedom in knowing that.