Escaping the Comparison Trap

Here is a sneak peek at the devotional I wrote for work this week.

"But we all, with unveiled face,
beholding as in a mirror the glory of the Lord,
are being transformed into the same image from glory to glory,
just as from the Lord, the Spirit."
(2 Corinthians 3:18)

Julia questioned the quality of her faith. She saw others who were comfortable doing and saying things with which she was not yet at ease. Even though, by her own admission, she had been growing in her love of scripture and intimacy with God, she felt pressured to be in the same spiritual place as others in her church.

To Julia’s mind, they were “better Christians” because of the way they expressed their faith in Jesus.

“It’s not a contest,” I told her. “You are not them and they are not you. You are unique in all of creation, just like I am. Every person is a distinctive individual. You have strengths and weakness, just like they do. Your relationship with the Lord and how He works in your life is going to be one of a kind because He made you to be you, and no one else. Really, it’s not a contest!!”

God made each of us to be utterly unique. However, we often evaluate our spiritual growth and ministry by what we see in the lives of others.

The Apostle Paul discussed the marvelous variety of gifts and ministries within the Body of Christ in his first letter to the Corinthians. “There are varieties of gifts, but the same Spirit. And there are varieties of ministries, and the same Lord. There are varieties of effects, but the same God who works all things in all persons.” (1 Corinthians 12:4-6)

As Paul noted, all of the gifts, ministries and effects come from God. It is God who does the work in the Body. It is He who does the work in us individually, as well.

It is very easy to fall into the comparison trap. It takes little effort to see someone else, whose gifts or ministries seem more prominent or evident than ours, and assume that they are more spiritual or mature. We feel like we must compete, but it’s difficult to love someone with whom we are a rival. That sort of rivalry drives a wedge between people.

In his first letter to the Corinthian church, Paul took them to task for divisions that had appeared amongst the people. They fell into the comparison trap and were arguing about who was following whom. Some were saying, “I follow Paul,” while others were saying, “I follow Apollos!” Paul told them, “I planted, Apollos watered, but God was causing the growth.” (1 Corinthians 3:6)

The reality is that growth comes from God. Jesus emphasized this principle for Himself when He said that He could do nothing by Himself, and that the Father’s work was done through Him. (John 5:19, 14:10)

Jesus also talked about this in the Gospel of John where He described our relationship with Him as branches on a vine. That connection is what causes the growth. Apart from Him, we can do nothing. We cannot grow, which is necessary for the production of fruit in our lives, if we are disconnected from the vine. The production of fruit - love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness and self-control - is what indicates growth and maturity in a believer. That fruit is what gives glory to the Lord.

When we redirect our focus from connecting with God to what our lives look like in comparison to others’, we lose the life-giving, growth-creating branch-to-vine connection that is essential to spiritual life. We start withering on the vine because we have stepped into a place of rule-keeping where we are measuring ourselves by an incorrect standard, we stifle freedom, and we are no longer allowing the life of the vine to grow us. We’ve traded the freedom of the life of Christ for something that cannot nurture or sustain us.

Our salvation and spiritual growth are gifts we experience because we place our confidence in Christ. We don’t even come to Him, or love Him, without Him wooing our hearts with His love. This leaves no room for boasting or pride, both of which are byproducts of the comparison trap.
Jesus tells the story of a farmer who planted seed as an illustration of the Kingdom of God. The seed sprouts and grows, but the farmer does not understand how it happens. “The earth,” Jesus says, “produces the crops on its own.” (Mark 4:26-28)

The farmer may have created an environment that was healthy for the crops to grow, but he did not cause that growth to take place. The same is true for spiritual disciplines, such as scripture reading and prayer.

While we can cultivate a healthy spiritual environment in our lives, we cannot make ourselves grow. Only God can do that.

Once Julia took her focus off others and redirected it to the Lord, she was able to genuinely recognize the growth she had been experiencing, and felt a freedom and joy that had been missing. Her doubts faded away as she truly saw how God had been working in her life, cultivating and growing her as only He can.

(The complete devotional will be available at http://www.lifetoday.org/)

Some Thoughts

I haven't been blogging much this summer. I haven't really wanted to since I think, generally speaking, blogging should be an encouraging thing.

I confess, I've been trying to battle through some deeply entrenched...well, "crap" is probably the most honest word. I've been feeling a lot of frustration and restlessness with life and am not sure what to do with everything I've been feeling. Part of me wants to discard everything I've built over the last 19, such as it is, and go somewhere fresh and new. Part of me wants to hunker down and ride the restlessness out until it fades and everything goes back to normal.

I've been here before. I've been restless and frustrated with life before. I rode it out, which is why I've been at the same organization for 19 years. I have to be practical, after all, since I'm the only one providing for me. Of course, since I am only providing for me I could up and go elsewhere if I so chose.

I'm not sure where I want to go, though there is one place which has my curiosity roused. I'm even less sure what I want to do, though I know I want it to matter.

Today, two icons of my youth died - Farrah Fawcett and Michael Jackson. Michael Jackson touched generations with his music and dancing, setting industry standards in the process. I remember wanting to be just like Farrah Fawcett when I was a girl - beautiful, free and beloved. Millions of people are in mourning at their loss.

Death tends to put some things in perspective.

Maybe I will follow my curiosity further, just to see what else is out there...

Cultivated Neutrality

Cultivate - to nurture (synonym: foster); to form and refine, as by education.

Neutral - belonging to neither kind, not one thing or the other; of or relating to a particle, object, or system that has a net electric charge of zero; a position in which a set of gears is disengaged so that power cannot be transmitted

Neutrality - tolerance attributable to a lack of involvement (synonym: disinterest)

I've had the idea of cultivated neutrality simmering in the back of my mind for a while now. Initially, it seems like a positive thing.

A person with cultivated neutrality can go into a new situation, so she can see what's truly there and make an honest evaluation with no preconceived notions or biases. When meeting new people, this cultivated neutrality can be an avenue through which a person is willing to experience the whole of another person's presence and absorb the experience without knee-jerk reactions, so that the experience can be processed at a later time. This is a definite plus.

The flip side of that is how the other person might experience one who maintains this place of cultivated neutrality throughout their interaction. It's rather like reading a book where only a very short introduction is written. The rest of the book is blank, so there's nothing for the reader to experience. The danger here is that, when experiencing the presence of a person who stays neutral or when interacting with a neutral person in a new situation, others might have an instinctual need to withdraw or pull themselves back because the presence of the other person is felt negatively, as though he or she is not truly present. Interacting with a neutral person can feel like dealing with a facade.

The person who has cultivated neutrality runs the risk of being experienced as disengaged.

It is interesting to note that in physics neutrality is when a particle has a net charge of zero. There is no energy. Interesting, too, that it is a position in which a set of gears is disengaged so that power cannot be transmitted. If gears are disengaged, and power cannot be transmitted, there can be no forward movement.

People are not neutral by nature. This neutrality has to be cultivated. If you observe children, they are anything but neutral. Energy is a child's trademark. Curiosity is a child's trademark, as is engaging with their world and the people around them.

Cultivated neutrality can be a safe place. It seems to me that it's a safety device, or a self-defense mechanism, that an individual cultivates as a response to having been hurt. Particularly if a person homesteads in that place of cultivated neutrality. It also seems to me that a person who has cultivated neutrality, and insists on making that her primary mode of experiencing life, has hobbled herself by choosing to maintain non-involvement.

Life is not neutral. Life CANNOT be experienced if a person is non-involved. Life can only be observed from that place.

There are times and places when, I think, we all step into that place of cultivated neutrality. The question is whether we stay there.

Where have you cultivated neutrality in your life? What would it take to reengage in the situations and relationships where neutrality has become the foundation?

The Stench of Authority

Earlier this week a co-worker came to me for help. There was something that he needed taken care of and, though he'd tried other avenues, he hadn't been able to accomplish what was necessary so he came to me. This happens fairly regularly.

There are a couple of things that people laughingly say when they call me about something. The first is, "I'll ask Michelle because she knows everything." The second is, "I'll ask Michelle because she'll make it happen."

Today the co-worker who had asked for my help came to me, appreciative because I'd done, with relative ease and speed, what others had apparently been unable to do. All it had taken was a phone call from me, some instructions for him, and he got what he needed handled. I told him that I'd been glad to help, and that it hadn't been difficult. His response was to laugh and say, "That's because everyone fears you. You have the stench of authority!" I joked with him about being stenchy, but his comment gnawed at me for the rest of the day.

There was a time when I was dubbed "Supreme Commander" by a manager in my department. It was done tongue-in-cheek because, really, I'm no one's commander. The reality is that I've worked hard to become the sort of person who refuses to be intimidated. Nobody likes to feel intimidated, and I just learned to suck it up and stick to my guns when necessary. I refuse to be impressed by titles or position, or any of the things that turn usually intelligent people into squealing teenage girls. It's not that the emotions aren't there, because I'm wired as a highly emotional person. It's a matter of choosing the sort of person I want to be, which is strong and brave, and determining to look at others as mere mortals who are no better and no worse than I am.

Who I have chosen to be looks quite different from the outside than it does from the inside.

The truth is, I don't want to be feared. I want to be loved. Being needed for what I can accomplish is nice, but I'd rather be wanted for who I truly am on the inside.

Cultivating a character that is strong and brave has been a double-edged sword.

Looking at it from one perspective, I'm competent and efficient and will get the job done. It's earned me the trust of my boss. It's placed me in a position of leadership and authority. Whether I do or do not see it as my authority, which I don't, it's a mantle I don every day. Turn that over and, truth be told, it's a mantle I never consciously sought. It's a mantle that I don't really want, but it goes along with the job I do. It helps me help others.

I wonder how true this is of others, who are in far greater leadership roles than I. I wonder if, perhaps, some of the weaknesses I see in those in leadership roles is due to the fact that they've taken the mantle of leadership as their own instead of wearing it on behalf of others.

I've been in the presence of many, many individuals who are leaders and people of authority. There are things that I've seen that break my heart - attitudes of entitlement and subtle arrogance. Attitudes that have been fed by those around them, whose voices ring with admiration and even awe. "You are our leader!! We follow you!! Tell us what to do, how to live, who to be!!"

These leaders are just people, like you and me, whose hearts hunger to be loved and wanted for who they really are.

It's a hard, unkind thing to put another person on a pedestal. They might fall off it and get broken into many small pieces. Everybody suffers when that happens