Been thinking and reading lately a lot about comparison. Women (myself included) who follow blogs, look at pinterest and read facebook updates that cause them to feel like they're failing. Falling short. Don't we all have moments when feel like were failing?
We wonder why our house doesn't look like a page from Better Homes and our shelves aren't organized like that woman who blogs about her fabulous alphabetically organized spice rack. We aren't training for a half marathon or even a 5k. Our kids throw regular fits, flush unknown objects down the toilet, say embarrassing things in front of the neighbors and don't nap the amount of time we'd hoped for. Our rooms are messy, cluttered and sure don't look like a page from Pottery Barn kids. Were lucky if the laundry gets put in the dryer when its done, let alone make it to the drawers. When our kids stop their tantrums or wake from their nap, we don't greet them with a snack that is in the shape of a heart and crafts that are too complicated for a engineer. Comparing ourselves to women who succeed in specific areas make us feel like we've failed.
I know I struggle like this. But I know there's hope. My hope doesn't rest on these things. Sure, these are good things that we desire, but they'll never last. Following these things alone and forgetting that they'll never save us is putting our hope in the law. Of course we strive to have pretty and organized homes, regular exercise, children who are growing in faith and a desire to obey, creative ideas, but we can't do everything. We are but one small person with our own daily battles and struggles.We all have been given gifts, strengths that help us bless our families and each other, but they're different.
I've been trying to spend a little less time on facebook, my phone and pinterest and a little more time thinking, reading and just playing with my kids. My kids want
me not that woman online whose children make elaborate crafts and have the cutest snacks I've ever seen.
Liam told me the other day "Mom, get off your phone, I'm more important." And he's right, he is.
I'm thankful that I have freedom, thankful that mercy always trumps law.
Thankful for the quickness with which Liam forgives me.
So go on, be that woman that has the organized and labelled spice rack and handmade quilt, but know that it doesn't save you. Rest in that. Love that woman who you admire. Know that you are smiled upon for one reason alone and it really is only because of one person, one man who died to save you from comparison and to set you free.
