On the days when my gaze strays like some lusty peeping Tom into the windows of what she’s doing, teaching, speaking, attending, making, baking, loving, learning, writing, creating.
When I start to compare her blog or platform or waistband or well-behaved kids or the size of her darling upper arms.
Father wrap yourself around me and raise my eyes to the milky way – so vast and immeasurable – a God of limitless resources.
Protect me from the myth of scarcity that screams I must be noticed, invited, included, appreciated or I. will. vanish.
Tilt my chin away from my navel gazing and lift my eyes to the hills, the mighty art of the stars, the puffs of clouds that bloom in blue skies.
Lord I bring you this prayer for contentment cupped in two hands that have tightly fisted frustration for days at what they think they’re missing out on.
The illusive grass so bright green there on the other side of the Twitter screen I can almost smell it.
It makes me gag and swallow great gulps of greedy wanting what I don’t have.
Rescue me from this mirage. Stop me before I drink a desert of disillusionment.
Desperation to be included tastes hollow going down. My belly aching for the Bread of Life.
Life to the full. I want it with both hands. A life line that keeps slipping through my ridiculous grasp. Grab my hand Father before I slip and slide my way to the bottom of a pit so black I can’t see my hand in front of my red and foolish face.
Rescue me from myself.
Cradle me to your side just like the night you did when you walked into the darkness and offered your own self as ransom for all I’m not satisfied with.
Remind me how you let go your only Son to grab hold of me, by the hair, the heart, the throat in a choke hold of grace.
Don’t. Let. Go.
No matter how I fight and whine and whinge and try to break free of all this love that names me unique. No matter how much I stamp my foot and demand to have a life, a house, a book, a ministry like she does.
Do. Not. Believe. Me.
Dear God, don’t unwrap your fingers from this fool’s unfaithful heart.
Name me yours today and tomorrow and then again the next day. Let your voice ring in my ears until it’s the song stuck on repeat on my Mondays. Till my weeks reek of The Freedom of Self Forgetfulness
Grow me up into the childish faith of a three-year-old who believes she’s beautiful and valuable and necessary simply because her mother tells her so.
Mother me, Jesus.
Help me believe all the shockingly beautiful things you say about me.
That the verdict’s already in long before I began – how you’ve named me wanted and chosen and adopted. Cherished, beloved, delicious with these wide eyes and my mother’s crooked smile.
Darling.
Invited into your Kingdom work.
Equipped.
Here in my kitchen and there on that stage.
Both the same as what a mother’s up to at 2am with her sick babe and heaven only sees the bended knee not the stats or traffic or audience or likes or rankings.
Heaven only sees the bended knee.
Burn it into my memory, how to bend my knee and serve. And in so doing find every grand and grasping dream I have flirted with reduced to dust and replaced by gifts of epic, disproportionate grace.
I unwrap fresh mercy every morning and most days I barely recognize it.
I believe Lord, help my unbelief.
Even when all that comes out is a whisper as you hold my hand.
Caught.
Beloved.
Pursued.
Welcome.
And divinely wanted.
Related resources:
Comparisons will Kick You in the Teeth and Hijack Your Dreams Every Time
I so needed these words this morning. Thank you, Lisa-Jo.
This post breathed life into my heart today. Thank you.
Thanks Osheta. That means a lot since your post over at Sarah Bessey’s last week was so powerful and has been giving me so much to think on.
Oh, Lisa-Jo, you have heard my heart and seen inside my mind. Not only me, but countless others I’m sure. Thank you, thank you, for saying these words right out loud and putting them in writing that won’t fade because these thoughts, they’ll come back. And I’ll need to read this again and chase them away. “Help me believe the shockingly beautiful things you say about me”. Truth.
Simply beautiful, Lisa-Jo, and so very much what I needed to hear today…what I desperately need to hear everyday.
I think this is your most profound post ever! AS.IN.EVER!
So beautiful!!! Love you, friend. So very thankful for your faithfulness!
Amazed that while he cradles and mothers you, he’s done the same for me this morning. My Jesus has a big lap.
Stepping into the big and scary today, and fearing I won’t measure up. Exactly what I needed. xoxo
I couldn’t help but think how this reads like a psalm…Thank you for these words of truth.
Thank you
Very powerful. Thank you.
Thank you for this – words I truly need. This blogger/twitter/social media world causes so much unneeded comparison in my life. I strive so hard to not let it steal my joy & let the Lord fill me with joy instead. It’s so hard.
Am often in that place too. That is beautiful.
This. Is. Awesome. I am amazed at the way the Lord leads me to what I need to hear on the day I need it most. This is one to read and re-read. Your words are lovely.
For some reason Lisa-Jo, I find myself with a big lump in the throat halfway through reading your beautiful words and prayer, then the tears come. Your heart and writing constantly bless and refresh me, leading me to what I need, even when I don’t realize I need it! You are such a treat to land in my inbox. Thank you for sharing the journey and for all your cheerleading efforts for us mums, and as women walking this path. I can assure you – it does make a difference :)
Simply beautiful!
Spot on! Thank you…a timely reminder…
So hopeful and encouraging! Thanks so much!
In the midst of all I must do, it’s so easy to forget that my life is His work. But the best I can hope to be is a three year-old riding her Father’s foot, laughing with glee, distracted and nearly falling off only to be caught by His strong hands.
Thank you so much for this lovely, gritty prayer. “Twas most needed.
Oh, that fear I fight more often than I would like to admit. As the others say, you are spot on with this. Thank you for sharing these words today (:
So much of this rings true for me. My toddler is just entering a tantrum phase, and yesterday when he started to throw a mini-fit I realized that’s what I must look like as a child of God who too often wants a toy that belongs to someone else. Crossing my arms and walking around in a huff. Lord, help me to keep maturing, help me to keep focusing my eyes on you instead of on myself or anyone else.
I struggle with the envy beast so, so much – moreso now than ever, I’m ashamed to admit. Thank you for this much, much-needed wisdom and truth today, Lisa-Jo.
Tears… this is so. beautiful. And God is so good. He is our adequacy, our enough. Thank you for this reminder.
Gah… it’s like you know me? ;) So much Amen! (Perfect prayer for all of those post inrl feelings… how quickly we are to focus on lack and not see His abundance right there, nail scarred, holding our hands!)
Lisa-Jo, If I were ever to get a tattoo I would insist it be this entire post! Thank you. Really that doesn’t say it enough. Thank you for these refreshing words that are washing over me. So what I needed today and every day.
Oh, thank you, Lisa-Jo for this. These words of life and breath. Can you hear me exhale? I am. How many times have I prayed, “Lord I believe, help my unbelief?” I can’t even remember now. And this, “Rescue me from myself.” That is an honest-to-goodness-needed-to-hear-needed-to-say prayer for me today. Thank you for your heart and your soul and your words. New dreams have been etched in my heart that I never would have imagined I would have nor even thought I would strive for. I have to remember that in Him all things are possible and if He wants it done, then so be it. And if His dreams for me look different that I “think” they look, I have to be ok with that, too. As long as He and only He is getting the glory. Easier for me to say someday than to live. That’s my truth. Love you so much, and I realize we’ve never met. But I hope we do one day this side of Heaven. xoxo, Meredith
Amen…amen.
This has me in tears, finding me in a bed full of a laundry, exhausted with first Trimester crud and wondering if this baby growing, raising, small living thing is all I will ever do… then feeling a gut full of guilt for wondering if it is enough.
I keep going back to this quote that stuck to my brain reading through “The Fault in Our Stars” “People will say it’s sad that she leaves a lesser scar, that fewer remember her, that she was loved deeply but not widely. But it’s not sad, it’s heroic, it’s triumphant.”
I want more of that, more deep joyful contentment in the children turning legos into kittens and birds in the next room. May these words stick, and May I remember to buy that Tim Keller book. May this pregnancy become a thing of joy ever more than it becomes a set back to some idea of better that I have in my stubborn head.
What a wonderful post. Thank you!
Coming off a couple of weeks of stepping away from blogging and social media, I found myself walking a tightrope between relief and fear of missing out. Fear of missing out on #IRL and all the fun hashtags. Fear of not tweeting something clever. Fear of disappointing my blog readers and missing new readers. But in the end, relief sort of won out. Or maybe I should say, it had more points on the board. I had important things to finish that needed my focus. There were family members to serve. There were weeds to be pulled in the flower bed and conversations over dinner without the interruptions of all the things I was missing out on. What a beautiful, wonderful reminder to rest in the knowledge that we are loved, cherished and adored…that we are missing nothing because He sees us and knows us. Your words are good medicine, my friend.
“Protect me from the myth of scarcity that screams I must be noticed, invited, included, appreciated or I. will. vanish.”
A beautiful mantra. So well written.
Were you actually IN my freaking BRAIN when you wrote this!?! Ahh, Lisa, yes. Amen and amen and thank you.
Oh, Lisa-Jo. This is me. And it feels so ugly. Caught between the job I have and the one I want, and no way yet to move from the one to the other, and oh – the envy that brings as I watch what seems to be everyone else doing what I want to do and feel left out and other and bereft even though I am not left out or other or bereft. Sometimes I have to just get off Facebook and my RSS reader and let it all seep out and start over again with God and His plans and promises. Thank you for writing this today. I needed it badly. xo
I’ve been having so many of these same thoughts this week. Thanks for this!
Me too!!!
Comparison is the low that always follows the high of being in community. I feel it too. I’m praying this with you.
So. Good. Thank you, I needed this.
So. Good. Thank you, I needed to read this.
Just. Perfect. Today. Thank you for meeting me right where I am today too, LisaJo….im so thankful for this crazy web that breathes grace right into me with the words of other women on here! You bless with your blog. YOUR.BLOG:) and hers is good too, but you sure have your own beautiful gift and i and so many others appreciate your willingness to share it:)
This. Is. Perfect. That is all…thank you!