One Thing...

I usually only post one thought each week, but I was trying to weave these two into one post, and it just wasn't working. I realized I was working out two ideas, and that each needed it's own space to breathe. Here is the second, another gentle reminder from a Father who wants me to be a whole lot less crazy :)

I recently quoted, rather smugly, to a friend, "Comparison is the thief of joy." I assured her that she had to stop looking at others' lives. It just isn't right. Of course, comparison isn't something I ever struggle with Never.

While I might not worry about comparing myself to people around me, I have a serious problem with comparing myself to people I've never met whose shiny blogs blink with ads for eco-friendly companies and glow with moments captured on a Nikon 10,000 (I'll let you decide which is more worrisome).

Yesterday, I was actually stressing about not having a meal planning menu.  "Patrick," I cried, trying to make him understand the gravity and despite of myself, managing to laugh at the ridiculousness, "some of these ladies online have monthly meal planning menus. They document their meal-planning experience in a scrapbook made from scraps from their grandmother's quilt. While you're reading about it, you can check out the link to pictures of their children wearing clothes they personalized with buttons from goodwill at the fairy-themed birthday party where they hired their cousin to do fancy face paint!"

While it might seem silly, this is pieced together from several actual blogs or websites I've seen. How is a woman ever supposed to keep up?

Sarah Groves describes social media in her song, "Obsolete," like this: "Walking through a hall of doors/looking through a million portals/everyone is having fun/everybody seems immortal./ And you don't know where you stand/and did something pass you by/and if you are dismissed/will you get another try?

It terrifies me to think that at times, I stress more about if I'm making Martha Stewart happy than if I'm making Jesus happy. In the end, who will matter more?

Yesterday, after another tirade about not having everything nailed down as I would like, Patrick and I paused to watch an ocean-rippled sunset sky behind our house. As I quieted I heard, "you are worried and upset about many things, but few things are needed—or indeed only one (Luke 10:41-42)." 

The story of Mary and Martha, one you think I would have internalized by now. Martha was fuming in the kitchen, probably trying to get her olives in the shape of a lamb like she saw on Pinterest and angry Mary wasn't helping. Instead, her sister was sitting at Jesus feet, listening and soaking in his love. She had chosen what was better, and it wouldn't be taken from her.

My to-do lists, my blog-compare-and-despair need to be named for what they are: idolatry. For if I am bowing down to them instead of to Jesus, that is precisely what they are.

I am called to one thing and to one thing alone: to know Jesus, experiencing his love more and more deeply each day. Everything else can be wonderful, but needs to be counted as loss in comparison. May you rest today at his feet today.

An oldie, but a goodie...