We arrived at the shelter for abused women. The girls were finally in front of us: their hands within reach, their eyes hesitantly waiting to be met. Suddenly, it wasn’t a feeling of discontentment that threatened me, because I was finally where I expected we would be…it wasn’t that I felt inadequate or confused about God’s will, because this is what I had pictured doing all along.The last thing that was keeping me from victory in this instance was the life-stealing little habit of comparison.
I knew the “right” things that I could say and do, but I also knew that the photos being taken would make me seem a lot more spiritual than I felt at the time. I could tell there was a battle going on inside me, between surrender and distraction, and I did not want to give in to fruitlessness (as easy and comfortable as that would be). I had made it to Thailand, worked hard at loving my teammates and preparing my heart to see people as Jesus does…but the sneaky eye of comparison focused me inward and turned my will from loving to performing. Now that the moment had come to love on these women, was I looking to my Savior for the joy of His favor and delight in me, or was I looking at my teammate across the room who was doing such a good job letting Christ live through her? (You can guess the answer)
My teammates performed a skit at the shelter that afternoon, and this skit had a character labeled as “the hypocrite.” The character called everyone she saw out as failures, while exalting herself. However, in reality, the hypocrite turned out to be empty inside and blind to the truth.
Whether I like it or not, when I seek approval by the world’s standards, it involves putting others “beneath” me, as I try to rise up in the recognition, value, comfort, or security that I long for. At the end of the skit, Jesus came to the hypocrite character and tore away her broken heart, replacing it with His own pure one. He had to keep coming back to her, reminding her to not pick up her old identity again. Jesus fought to free even the hypocrite, to tell her how He viewed her in light of His sacrifice.
I’ve come to realize that when I compare, I cripple authentic relationships (with God and others) and forfeit so much power, as I wear a mask of “acceptable,” “good enough,” “better than her…” The last thing I want while I’m in Thailand is to get caught in this trap. Jesus did a mighty work to allow me to die to my sin and come alive in Him–even today He advocates my case against the accuser and calls me a conqueror. Jumping in and doing what I know is “right” is important, but striving to do this so that I LOOK as good as, or better than, someone else (even in all their good qualities!) will steal all of my joy. Trying to measure up to someone else means that I’m striving after a picture of Jesus rather than Jesus Himself; if my heart is competing, it surely isn’t set on Him.
So, do I believe I’m as accepted and enabled as He says I am? What HE says is all that matters–what He has to say to me, and what He has to say to those I encounter. I get to be a vessel of that living message today, not an imitator or a copy of someone else’s kingdom gifts. I am who I am and where I am for one Person alone, and when my eyes are set on His worthiness, things make so much more sense, and actions that reflect Him come naturally. I rejoice in where I am because He led me here. I rejoice in my friends because they are living out their callings like rockstars. I rejoice in my Jesus because He is able to fill and use even my brokenness for whatever He wants (which, by the way, is so much more amazing than I can imagine!) It’s never struck me how little I embrace and enjoy the depths of His love for me, until in moments like these I am in need of so much more love to pour out. If what I do is just an act, it’s so empty and kills my joy: “If I give all I have to the poor…but have not love, I gain nothing.” (1 Corinthians 13:3)
But the love I experience from Jesus causes me to drop my insecurities and all thought of myself and trying to control my reputation. I must remember that I love being in that place of surrender (as hard as it can be to get to), because what He intends for me is so fulfilling and full of true life.
Jesus promises to build me up into His definition of me, even as he builds up others in exactly who He made them to be. We are in this together. Instead of trying to control how I’m seen and what I’m accomplishing, all I must do is look to Him and His perfect ways again and again, and keep saying “yes” to this relationship that I’m learning to trust with all of my life.
