I have this problem. I think it may be one of the reasons I worry so much. I am a compare-er. I am always comparing things, to find the better option. And the worst part is that I am always comparing the offerings of God with the offerings of this world.
Somehow, for whatever reason, I have grown up with my mind made up that there are things that I need. These things will make my life complete, perfect, lacking in nothing.
Did you catch it? Did you catch what I just did, what I just said? Did I just ask for things of this world to make my life complete, perfect, and lacking in nothing. Haven’t I heard that somewhere else?
My brethren, count it all joy when you fall into various trials, 3 knowing that the testing of your faith produces patience. 4 But let patience have its perfect work, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking nothing.
James 1: 2-4, NKJV
I didn’t even hear it until I said it myself. I have gotten so confused, I have compared so much, that I just took words, God words, the Word, and tried to make it work with the world. As if the two could ever mix together.
I think you all know how much I love Christmas. Just in case, I’ll tell you again: I love Christmas. I could live in winter year round if it meant December every day. Christmas every day. But, just like every other thing about the season, I have let the manmade magic warp my wonder. I stare amazed at one tiny Christmas light, forgetting there is a whole sky of bright lights above me. I have let the tiny little lights on my tree glow brighter than the Light of the World.
I compare because I don’t want to wait. I compare because this world says, “Have it now. Have it your way. Have it just the way you like it.” But that is such a lie. Because when we have it now, on our terms, through our manipulations, we come out incomplete, lacking in everything. We aren’t satisfied in the world because the world doesn’t know us. It didn’t create us, it corrupts us. And yet, I am still confused when the corruption doesn’t satisfy. I need living water. I need water that keeps me from thirsting. From comparing. From trying to taste something better. God, let me see that I have living water. Let me taste it, let me drink from fountains that give me real, authentic, beautiful life. And let that living water wash over me. Let it restore and redeem the parts of me I let comparison take. And let it replace the water that leaves me thirsty.
Jesus, tired from the long walk, sat wearily beside the well about noontime. 7 Soon a Samaritan woman came to draw water, and Jesus said to her, “Please give me a drink.”8 He was alone at the time because his disciples had gone into the village to buy some food.9 The woman was surprised, for Jews refuse to have anything to do with Samaritans. She said to Jesus, “You are a Jew, and I am a Samaritan woman. Why are you asking me for a drink?”10 Jesus replied, “If you only knew the gift God has for you and who you are speaking to, you would ask me, and I would give you living water.”11 “But sir, you don’t have a rope or a bucket,” she said, “and this well is very deep. Where would you get this living water? 12 And besides, do you think you’re greater than our ancestor Jacob, who gave us this well? How can you offer better water than he and his sons and his animals enjoyed?”13 Jesus replied, “Anyone who drinks this water will soon become thirsty again. 14 But those who drink the water I give will never be thirsty again. It becomes a fresh, bubbling spring within them, giving them eternal life.”
John 4: 6-14, NLT