Beyond Compare (eBook)

If I could, I would take all of you to the beach for our Bible study. While we worshipped the Creator oceanside, the waves would join our song. The thing about waves is that they crest, appearing to bring bounty ashore, but then they crush and pull away. Shells become sand. Treasure gets carried away on the ripples of the ocean. And one time, I almost did!

It was the Christmas of my freshman year in high school. My grandpa lived in Puerto Vallarta, Mexico, so we went for a visit. The beach there was gorgeous and I inched my way into the shallow waves along the shore while people called, “¡Blanca! ¡Blanca!” Which means white. Which I really, really am, especially in December. So there I was in my stylish 80’s swimsuit with my blinding legs, hopping up and down in the waves like a scared chicken, when a huge wave came out of nowhere, knocked me down, and pulled me underwater. It dragged me along the rocky, rough bottom, then down into a cold, deep pocket farther from shore. As I pushed my way out of the water, another wave piled over me, then another. It was probably only about a minute, but it felt like an eternity before I broke free of the waves and caught my breath. I looked down at my pasty legs. Sand was plastered all over me. Mortified, I realized it was also packed in the crotch of my swimsuit—like a full diaper load. I hobbled up the beach to the public bathroom as fast as I could. I felt many eyes staring at me—and heard the crowd chanting blanca. I locked the door and tried to shake off as much of my humiliation as possible. A few minutes before, I thought the waves were beautiful. I still do. But for all their beauty, they have destructive force if they’re out of control.

For a second, think of your thoughts as waves—the things you dwell on most cause a huge face of water to rise. And have potential to tow you under. Sometimes our comparing thoughts take on a rhythm like waves. They roll in with promise, then rush out leaving little bits of our heart scattered on the shore. They hold us underwater longer than we expect and make us confused and afraid.

Let’s try a little exercise. Fill in the blanks below with the first thing that comes to your mind. I know you may not be struggling with all these comparisons, but be honest about what you’ve felt on the ones that resonate with you.

• If I could __________ (verb) like her…

• If I had her _______________________ (noun)…

• If he/she would ______________________ (phrase) …

• If ________________ (person) would accept me…

• If only __________________________ (circumstance) had not happened in my life…

We are well acquainted with the “if” thoughts that swell in our heads. We let the response of one person or the lack of one goal control our emotions and thought life. It is much harder to fill in the “then” part of the sentence. Then what? You’d be happy? Complete? Life would be easier? You’d feel like you were enough? God could use you? Most of us fail to define a specific “then.” Although we think our solutions will make life “better,” we don’t know for sure that they will. So we dwell on all the “ifs” instead—if I had more, was more, or could do more…. Even Moses struggled with this.

I don’t know if Moses had another preacher in mind when he told God he couldn’t speak well. A real physical human isn’t necessary to slip into comparison. We are completely capable of comparing ourselves with a figment of our imagination, who is usually rather perfect. Whatever was going through Moses’ mind, he was thoroughly convinced he was unusable. He kept reminding God about his lack of ability. God told Moses—strongly—that He would put the right words in his mouth. Still, this direct promise was not enough for Moses to overcome his feelings of inferiority.

Some scholars think Moses stuttered, or maybe he was embarrassed about a lisp or his Egyptian accent (remember, he was raised by the Egyptian princess). Maybe he had been bullied about his voice. Whatever the reason, Moses was so afraid about his inability that he begged God not to make Him do what He was asking Him to do. At least Moses was polite. He said, “Please, Lord, send someone else” (Ex. 4:13). It doesn’t matter how polite we are. If we say no to God—even if it seems “humble” to do so—we are still saying no to God.

Moses’ brother Aaron became his spokesperson. He was both a help and a hindrance. Aaron had a gift of being an influential public speaker. But he sometimes misused the gift. Aaron led the Israelites into idol worship by forming the golden calf. He also used his chatty gift to participate in gossip about Moses’ wife with their sister Miriam. We will never know what might have been different had Moses said a confident, “Yes.”

Let’s talk about our arguments, what we tell God so we have an excuse not to obey. We’re right up there with Moses:

• “I’m not a very good influencer/singer/___________.”

• “I can’t do that.”

• “They don’t really need me.”

• “If I had more talent, then I would.”

• “She can do that so much better.”

I argued with God about writing this study. “I don’t know nearly as much as ___________. I don’t have the skills necessary. I have failed You so much in my life, why would You want me representing you? If I had more time/insight/ resources, then I would finish.” And, like Moses, “I’m not a public speaker.”

The thing is, God’s work is about God. Not me. Not you. He can and will use whomever He pleases, whether they are “qualified” or not. We cannot manipulate God or change His power with our if/then arguments. We cannot make deals with Him along this line: “If You make me succeed, then I am willing to be used.” Who would get the credit then? God has a strategic purpose in using weak people, well-acquainted with failure. God wants people to see His power so they can know He exists and is working. How exciting that He invites us to be part of that—like a lantern through which His light can shine. God’s if/then is, “If you are weak, then I can make you strong” (see 2 Corinthians 12:10), and “If you are less, then people can see more of me” (see John 3:30).

I hope someday I will eagerly wave my hand and squeal every time an opportunity arises: “I am weak—use me!” But first I must break the habit of the if/then waves.

We always start our “if” thoughts with the dangerous assumption that we have excellent ideas—that every single thing we think will make us happy will indeed make us happy. We assume that our solution will turn out better than what God is allowing in our lives. We are really kind of saying that God’s ideas should change. He should line up with our picture of how things should go. The bottom line is, sometimes we think we are smarter than God.

Perhaps what our minds are searching for with the if/then waves is a trouble-free existence, a world where all is peaceful, productive, and protected. Guess what? We are searching for heaven. We are searching for our Knight on the white horse to rescue us (Revelation 6:2 and 19:11). That is coming, but until then, God does a lot of rescuing through people. Every single day He uses ordinary people like you and me to tell others about His extraordinary love.

Do you remember when the disciples were on the Sea of Galilee and a fierce storm rolled over the sides of the boat (Mark 4:35-40)? The disciples felt like Jesus did not care. He slept while the storm raged. Jesus wasn’t sleeping because He didn’t care. That is not God’s nature. Jesus could relax because He knew God’s power and plan.

The if/then waves may be crashing over the walls of your mind, making you feel anxious and incapable. Everyone is weak, limited, and sometimes afraid. In fact, admitting our need for God and our failure is the first step every person must take to come to God. Weakness doesn’t keep us from God. It draws us to Him.

By His estimation, you are of great significance. You are essential to His strategy to build His kingdom. When Jesus lives inside you, you are a carrier of His Light and Truth. You have a job only you can do. So stop looking at the if/then waves. Instead, look at your Savior. He made you. He’s got a plan for you.