Comparison Trap

I know better than to go that way, but still . . .


I met Kathy Escobar on Sunday. She is a pastor, a blogger, an author, a mother and wife, a compassionate and beautiful human being. She was in town and shared some thoughts from her book, Down We Go, with our friends at EmDes (an emergent cohort.)

I wanted to get to know Kathy, learn as much as possible in a very short time, and hoped to begin a friendship. So I bought her book and asked her to have dinner after our group meeting. She was generous, curious, encouraging, open, wise, and a joy to be with! I asked her practical stuff, like how their church, The Refuge, does a different format for their gathering each week of the month (because I want Streams of Grace to do that). I asked her about personal stuff, like how it works for her to have a co-pastor who is not her husband, and a husband who is not a pastor (because I want that to work for us too).

Everything Kathy shared was real, and helpful. So I was hopeful and inspired. . . and terribly discouraged because I am just not like her.

Yes, I can be encouraged and frustrated at the same time. Because I get to know someone who is a little like me, which is rare and wonderful and gives me joy to know I'm not a complete anomaly in the Kingdom. But then I head down a dark alley of comparing myself to this person, and feeling like I am seriously deficient in several key areas.

I know better. I have been mugged in this dark alley before. I have repeatedly preached a sermon about how comparing ourselves to others leads to shame or pride and is a barrier to relationships. And yet my mind goes into that dangerous place where I see clearly all the qualities that I lack, and all the faults I have, compared to a distorted sense of Kathy Escobar's Mother-Teresa-compassion and successful-ministry-and-marriage. I feel disqualified to do what she does, and deficient in the ways she is gifted.

Which led me to questioning my calling (I can't plant a church), procrastinating on my ministry task for this week (prepare a sermon), a weird headache (maybe from coffee deprivation), and a bit of a shopping spree (bras and theology books).

The good news is, there's grace. I realized where I was heading and asked Jesus to get me out of there. I stopped focusing on what I don't have, and remembered the blessings I DO have. I stopped comparing myself to someone else, and asked Abba to remind me who I am, whose I am, and who I AM is.

I'm not Mother Teresa or Kathy Escobar, but I have the Same Holy Spirit in me that they do. And you do too. I have a unique and well-designed combination of gifts, experiences, qualities, and even deficiencies. And so do you. I can do good, create beauty, speak grace, be myself.

So I am practicing gratitude. I am receiving God's grace in whatever form it comes to me, learning to accept who I am and value another person, without comparison. I have hope and joy again.

Also, I have a new blog post and a sermon for this Saturday!

I'd rather be journaling. . .

Blogging.
One more thing I think I should be doing, and sort of want to do. So to get from wishing to doing, here are all the reasons I don't blog.

I don't like sitting in front of the computer. The monitor is like a black hole sucking my brains and creativity and energy right out of my body. When I work at that desk for a few hours I generally feel like I wasted all that time.

Blogger doesn't publish the layout I want it to. I arrange my text and pictures how I think they will look nice on the blogsite. I preview it, which looks different from when I was creating it, and then publish it, and all 3 of those views are completely different! With the final version being the worst. This might not be a big deal if I only used one font, one photo, but that would look boring and normal and I want my stuff to be interesting and unique.

Nobody would read it. Or everyone would read it. In the first case I would be wasting my time, and in the unlikely event that lots of people would 'follow me', I would be obligated to continue blogging regularly and then I'd have to follow a zillion other bloggers and I would waste my whole day in front of the computer.

Comments to self:

I like my iPad. My son accuses me of being addicted to it. I resisted the whole empire of apple inc. for a long time, but resistance is futile, and I really like this thing! Yep, I'm typing on it now. In my comfy chair. (maybe it is the computer desk and chair I hate?)

I can switch to Wordpress, which involves learning a few new things, all of which require less time and effort than fretting about Blogger. I can just write in the default font (with bold and italic) and drop in one photo and let the content of what I write be the point of interest

I can reframe it as journaling, or as teaching- both of which I enjoy doing. Journaling is just for me, to figure out what I'm thinking and feeling and get myself unstuck and reoriented. (yes, that is my approach today, writing this blog instead of journaling.) Teaching is, for me, sharing good stuff I have learned and encouraging people to think or do something better- for their own benefit. I love a good discussion about things that matter to me, and I've entered into many interesting internet conversations on theOoze and Facebook.

So if those are my only "problems", they are easily overcome.


BUT Here is my real issue: I love my journals!


Blogging ISN'T journaling. It isn't just for my personal, private pondering. I can't just write my 3 pages of handwritten, stream-of-consciousness, soul-searching "morning pages" and publish that on the internet for the universe to see and comment on.

In my journal, I'm safe to grumble and ponder, struggle and pray, be boring or have flashes of inspiration. Nobody reads it, not even me most of the time, because the point is opening up and pouring myself onto the page. I can get real and vulnerable in those pretty notebooks. I don't care about the layout, or the language or my crappy penmanship.

My journal is me in my soft pajama pants and t-shirt with no bra, and messy hair and 2 mugs of coffee. Journaling has kept me sane and faithful and maybe saved my life, and certainly saved several relationships. For several years I keep a separate journal for prayers and spiritual devotions, now I just pray and ponder in the same notebook. I experimented with doodling along with writing for a bit, but a daily sketching discipline doesn't appeal to me.

I have rarely journaled every single day of the week, except when I first started working through "The Artists's Way", but I have regularly kept a journal for over 20 years. I have saved them all, even my journals from my teen years. However, I don't want anyone to read them until after I'm dead, or maybe never. My journals are private.

A blog is public.

So yeah, I want to blog. (And I should probably keep a sketchbook too.) But my 'first love' is journaling.