5 Painful Truths About Comparison

Comparison Is In the Mirror

Shortly after I woke up this morning, I found myself in front of the full-length mirror. Am I pretty? That was the internal question I asked myself. It wasn't a very fair question, considering I had bed-head, was dressed in pajamas, and had on no makeup. Suddenly, I was knee-deep in comparison, and I hadn't even had my quiet time or breakfast smoothie yet. This was a complete breach of protocol by my inner voice.

Comparison Is Personal

Am I pretty? I immediately began sizing myself up. Is my hair pretty? Not really. I used to have long, straight hair. I used to have long, permed hair. I used to have a bob, a flip-up, an asymmetrical do, and almost every hairstyle Meg Ryan ever had. Compared to Meg and former versions of myself, no, my hair isn't pretty. It's too short for my liking, and there aren't enough blonde highlights because I've decided to go back to my natural color, which means I'm in the middle of a grow-out. Transitions can be difficult, but hair transitions are the worst!

Comparison Is Ugly

Then I looked at my face. I have age spots now. Well, culture calls them age spots, but they're really sun spots (thank you, Florida.) I could kick myself for not wearing sunscreen when I was young and invincible. I also have acne, which, hello, was supposed to disappear by my mid-20's. I currently have one stubborn blemish that decided to pop up right in the middle of my forehead, and refuses to be bullied by acne patches and tallow. I won't even talk about my body shape— that ship sailed a long time ago. Pretty? I'm just not making the cut here.

Comparison Is Empty

The Bible says... yep, that's what I always come back to. I find my worth in God. Don't get me wrong, I've looked in other places, but I just never found it there. The Bible says that man looks on the outward appearance, but God looks at the heart. (1 Samuel 16:7) Thank God for God. He is loving, wise, and worth my devotion. He knows what I know: my appearance has been and will continue to change for my entire life; yours, too.

For example, if I show you my baby picture, you probably won't see a resemblance. My upper elementary school photos are horrendous— I was nothing but buck teeth and glasses. My senior photos turned out great, I must admit, but sadly, the beauty was short-lived. I look nothing like I did back then. I look nothing like I did on my wedding day. Yet I continue to focus on something as wishy-washy as my appearance. You too? However, when Jesus makes a comparison, it's not my appearance He compares, it's my heart to His.

Comparison Is A Heart Matter

It comes down to this: there will always be models, celebrities, and other female phenoms vying for a place on my comparison chart. They are positioned right next to any version of my former self; a version that wasn't good enough back then, but taunts me now, saying, "I told you so. Don't you wish you were still me?"

I am growing out my hair, taking better care of my skin, watching what I eat, and moving more. That's true, but even if (someday) I look in the mirror at 5 am and think I am pretty, someone out there will always be prettier. I am more than the sum of my parts. I am not just the reflection in my mirror; I am also the me that only God sees, and regarding my appearance, he loves me just as I am. As for my heart, I surrender it to Him daily, and he makes it beautiful, because He makes it more like Himself.

Waiting Joyfully

Waiting joyfully is a constant challenge because waiting is a part of life. I was definitely not waiting joyfully a couple of nights ago. I had fallen asleep with a scowl on my face and a churning in the pit of my stomach. "The appointed time must arrive, whether you're watching the clock or not. You are waiting, even if you don't participate in it or fret over it." This is the wisdom the Lord shared with me early the next morning. I have given birth to two children, written and published two children's books, and waited in line at the DMV; I can promise you, I am no stranger to waiting.

Even so, this current waiting season came with heavy fog, dark clouds, and rain. The heavy fog was in my mind, the dark clouds in my soul, and the rain from my eyes. I am happy to say, though, that once we decide to follow Jesus, every season, no matter how dreary, also comes with wind from the Spirit.

Often, however, the personal words the Holy Spirit speaks to us don't translate well to others. That's because they are personal. I told my husband what the Holy Spirit said to me about waiting, and I could tell the words did not have the same effect on him as they did on me. As I verbally fleshed out this idea of waiting without waiting, these words came out of my mouth, "A watched pot never boils."

Grandma Knows Waiting

Anyone who has a grandmother has heard these words before, and with all due respect to grandmothers everywhere, that's simply not true. But it feels true. I've watched a pot full of water waiting for it to boil. I've waited, and waited, and waited, and it wasn't until I walked away that it boiled! As a matter of fact, it seemed as if the moment I walked away, I heard the sound of bubbling water, indicating a boil. However, the water didn't boil because I walked away (that may be superstition or an old wives' tale, but it isn't science) the water boiled because the temperature of the water reached the boiling point.

The boiling temperature of water 212° F. This is the standard degree that most scientists agree upon. However, the time it takes for water to reach this temperature, to boil, depends upon a variety of factors. I Googled this and found an interesting article from the University of Maryland. Here's what they had to say: "The boiling point is the temperature at which boiling occurs for a specific liquid. For example, for water, the boiling point is 100 degrees Celsius at a pressure of 1 atm. The boiling point of a liquid depends on temperature, atmospheric pressure, and the vapor pressure of the liquid. When the atmospheric pressure is equal to the vapor pressure of the liquid, boiling will begin." Sorry, Grandma.

Waiting Isn't The Issue

You see, the water doesn't need privacy; it needs time. Waiting isn't the issue; it's the watching. In other words, watching is what makes the waiting unbearable. The Holy Spirit was telling me that I could stand by the stove, watch the pot, tap my foot in frustration, and wait for the water to boil; or I could walk away and fill my time with something worthwhile. Either way, the water will boil at the appropriate time, when the temperature reaches the boiling point.

Waiting joyfully is a constant challenge because waiting is part of life. We wait through the night for morning; we wait a year for another birthday or holiday; we wait for the right mate; we wait for children to be born; we wait for the perfect opportunity; and the list goes on. It seems to me, that the things I want most take the longest to boil. I mean, happen. I put a great amount of effort into strategizing and am always on call to help God figure things out. He is so good and gracious to humor my suggestions and then give me wisdom and comfort while I wait. Holy Spirit is there too, gently reminding me that I have trust issues. Don'tcha just love God...

First Born

It’s amazing how difficult it is to be firstborn
The second does not understand
They see privilege
Favoritism
Unfairness
Yet being firstborn comes with so much responsibility
It’s built-in
It’s part of the job
It looks like bossiness
But it’s protection
It looks like don’t wanna play
But it’s growing up
It looks like never share
But it’s longing for something
Anything that is exclusively yours
Firstborn means
Being in your own world sometimes
It means different teachers
Different friends
Different likes and dislikes
Different experiences
Different memories
It means moving at a different pace
Moving ahead
And eventually
It means leaving and not coming back
It’s not insensitive
It’s not uncaring
It’s just firstborn

A Picture's Worth

It has been said, "A picture is worth a thousand words" and yet I have always taken dozens of pictures to tell just one story. A birthday perhaps. A trip to the beach. Not to mention, Christmas. Christmas is in a photographic league of its own.

But these days, photographers edit their pictorial words even before they snap the shot; composing from contorted angles to capture only part of a subject or half a smile. The art has become much more concise. Fewer and fewer pixels are needed. Even so, I find the old adage still true.

Cookies In The Elevator

Sometimes I take the stairs, but not today. I mean, it wasn’t like I didn’t need to take them. I had been sitting for hours; sitting and waiting. And with random people handing out free dessert, I needed the stairs today more than ever. Yes, there were times I stood, only to sit right back down again. I was greeting friends, old and new. Standing is almost exercise. And what about anticipation? Anticipation does excite the heart. Yes, we waited with much anticipation this morning; anticipation and joy. Joy was the other sweet treat distributed freely among us.

“Is she coming? Is it time?” “Almost. It’s taking a little longer than we expected,” he said. “It’s worth the wait,” I thought. “I wouldn’t miss this for anything!” I clutched my gift bag and smiled at the contents. Laughter and stories were shared; and then finally it was time.

“Are your cameras ready? Someone needs to get a video of this moment!” Someone? How about all of us?! With iCameras in hand, we silently huddled together straining for a glimpse of her. First came the husband in white and then her caregivers in blue. Then we saw her! “Yay!” we yelled. She almost didn’t see us. Her eyes were focused on one thing. She had been waiting for this moment. None of us will ever know how much. A few instructions were given and then she grabbed the rope; and moving it swiftly from side to side, she rang the bell! Yes. We heard it. We were standing there with her. But oh how it must have reverberated inside her. There were tears, of course. Tears of joy. Streams of victory and breaths of sweet release. Then one by one she hugged us all. She showed us her certificate of completion and her memorial bell. It didn’t ring very loudly- something she was determined to correct later. Then with one last look at her surroundings, in solidarity we walked toward the shiny, silver doors. All of us. And placing her in the center next to her little loves, we closed the doors, literally and figuratively; and ate cookies in the elevator.

For Shari. Thanking God she is now cancer free!

The Day I Met George Clooney

IPOL/GLOBE PHOTOS INC

I met George Clooney a long time ago. His hair was longer, darker and wavy; not short and tinged with gray like it is now. He was a handyman working to rebuild Edna Garrett's business. He had a great smile and was a fun, friendly guy. I knew from the moment I saw him we would be life-long friends.

You're probably thinking that I am delusional about now. Or if not, you are most likely a 40-something like me, and are following me so closely that you are stepping on the back of my flip-flops.

George Clooney joined the cast of The Facts of Life in 1985- that's where I met him. You too? Small world. The Facts of Life was my favorite show when I was umpam years old. (No, Spell-checker, I am not trying to spells "mumps." Umpam" is the sound I make when I cover my mouth as I say the exact age I was when I watched The Facts of Life. You "like, totally" missed that!) Something I was thinking about early this morning knocked over a trail of my thought dominos and started a chain reaction that led me here... to the Eastland Academy. I don't have any earth-shattering revelations to share; just a nostalgic post.
I loved The Facts of Life. It lasted for nine seasons, so apparently a lot of other people loved it too. The show covered many issues that we all encounter when we're growing up and provided a close-up look at what it's like to deal with relationships with our parents, friends, teachers and the opposite sex.

Before I start rambling on about Blair, Jo, Natalie or Tootie, I'll leave you with this... What T.V. household did you enjoy going to as a kid? Did you go there every week? Every day? Maybe you should pay them a visit. You might have left a few things over there, like...smiles, laughs, memories... Why don't you go back and pick those up? And hey! Take your kids with you. I plan to.