by Kayla Cook
One thing I have learned in my years of knowing Jesus personally is this: when God shows me the same thing enough times and enough ways that I notice, I should pay attention. I should ask Him, "what are You saying to me, Lord?" And then I should listen to Him. He did this with three different scriptures in the first 20 days of 2019, but the one He is most clearly speaking to me about is Psalm 16.
Let the record show that I have had a really difficult time with comparison lately, specifically related to motherhood. It seems like every where I look, there is another reminder that I'm not doing enough, not being enough, not good enough. It appears all these other moms are rocking it, so basically that means the problem is me and I should just kick rocks and quit trying. Okay, that's a little dramatic, but honestly- it has affected me deeply in ways that have been both surprising and strange. I say it has been strange because I can normally stay in my lane, not worrying about what others are doing. But lately, I cannot get my eyes off of what every other mama is doing.
It's painful to admit that, because when my eyes are on other mothers, that means my eyes are not on Jesus. I'm looking at what everybody else is doing (or at least appearing to do), and honestly, I'm a little miffed at God that their paths seem much lighter and simpler and easier than the path He has me on. For the better part of two weeks, I did what so many of us do when we know something isn't right: I stuffed it.
I stuffed all those feelings down. I grinned and bore it...or at least gritted my teeth and kept my mouth (mostly) shut. I figured if I stuffed it hard enough, that's the same as fighting it, right? And I'm supposed to fight sin. Until one morning, when it aaaallllll came out, and I knew that stuffing my feelings and taking everything to Jesus were most definitely not one and the same.
One morning, I made the mistake of checking social media. (Y'all, don't do that. No, really- if you start your days with social media, stop it. It's a great way to drain your time at best and ruin your morning at worst.) Sure enough, there on social media, I saw another picture perfect mom with her picture perfect reality, while I was rushing off to work with a grumpy baby and a sick husband at home and without the lunch I packed, and I lost it. I prayed, out loud, and most definitely not in my most reverent prayer voice. I said something to the effect of, "God, what You're asking of me, of my family? It's too much. I can't handle all this that You're putting on me. I can't. And You know what? (here comes the real honesty...) I'm angry. I'm angry that You've put this on me while all these other people skip around scot-free, and I'm drowning here. We love You, and we are trying to raise our kid to love You, and this is what You do. Do You see- wait, I know You see- do You even care that I'm drowning here? And I know You're good and You're loving, but none of this feels very good or very loving. It makes me angry. And it breaks my heart."
I collected myself, got the baby to childcare, and got myself to school. Oh, and great! After such an awesome morning, I get to be patient with 70+ middle schoolers. Bitterness was taking root, and I could feel it. I knew I should do something about it, but I couldn't- I didn't have the energy, and sulking felt easier. I put on a mostly happy face, but I knew I was faking it. I was covering up the bitterness and anger, not actually doing anything about it.
At some point that day, I read an article from Risen Motherhood, that focused on my very struggle: comparison in motherhood. The author mentioned that in Psalm 16:6, David says, "The lines have fallen for me in pleasant places; indeed, I have a beautiful inheritance." She said that, wherever the boundary lines have fallen for you (the reader) in motherhood, they are in good places because they come from the Lord, even if they look different from the boundary lines of our neighbors.
With that, the Lord started gently uprooting the bitterness, correcting my perspective. I started thinking about how my path was different from other women I know and love. The lines have fallen for us all in very different, yet equally good places, because of the same good God.
Psalm 16:6 popped up again the next day, and I knew I needed to spend some time there. Psalm 16 in the English Standard Version (ESV) is titled "You Will Not Abandon My Soul" (hallelujah!). Read it here:
1 Preserve me, O God, for in you I take refuge.
2 I say to the LORD, "You are my Lord;
I have no good apart from you.
3 As for the saints in the land, they are the excellent ones,
in whom is all my delight.
4 The sorrows of those who run after
another god shall multiply;
their drink offerings of blood I will not pour out
or take their names on my lips.
5 The Lord is my chosen portion and my cup;
you hold my lot.
6 The lines have fallen for me in pleasant places;
indeed, I have a beautiful inheritance.
7 I bless the LORD who gives me counsel;
in the night also my heart instructs me.
8 I have set the LORD always before me;
because he is at my right hand, I shall not be shaken.
9 Therefore my heart is glad, and my whole being rejoices;
my flesh also dwells secure.
10 For you will not abandon my soul to Sheol,
or let your holy one see corruption.
11 You make known to me the path of life;
in your presence there is fullness of joy;
at your right hand are pleasures forevermore.
The Lord is my refuge. Instead of stuffing and grinning and bearing it, I can take all that feels heavy and all that concerns me to my refuge. My Refuge actually tells me to come weary and burdened, and He will give me rest (Matthew 11:28). The reality is that He Himself is my only good- anything good I have or do or write or say is always and only Him.
Remember when I said that when my eyes are on other mothers, that means my eyes are not on Jesus? This is a problem, y'all. Proverbs 4:25 tells me to fix my gaze directly before me. Hebrews 12:2 tells me to fix my eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith. Why? Why is God so intent on my eyes being straight ahead, on Jesus? Because of Psalm 16:4, "The sorrows of those who run after another god shall multiply..."
Lysa TerKeurst says, "we steer where we stare." Wherever your gaze is, that's where you're headed. When I'm fixing my eyes on other people, I'm giving them the time and attention that I need to be giving God. I can sugar coat it, put a bow on it, downplay it, and even give it another name, but its real name is this: people idolatry. Yikes. When I'm focusing on other people, I'm making them my own little gods. With my gaze fixed, it's not long before I'm running there. And when I run after another god? Well, scripture says my sorrows shall multiply.
So what can we do? I don't want my sorrows to multiply, and I doubt you do either. Psalm 16 lays it out for us in verses 5-11:
I can choose to let the Lord be enough for me- that's when He is my portion, and I can acknowledge His sovereignty over my life and all that happens in it. Because He is my portion, because my good God holds my lot, I know that the lines really do fall in pleasant places for me, and I have a beautiful inheritance. What exactly is that beautiful inheritance? Romans 8:17 tells me that I'm a co-heir with Christ. A co-heir. I get to share in everything that belongs to Jesus because I'm His (that makes me want to shout and throw my hands up while tears stream down my face- it's absolutely amazing). I praise God, who gives wisdom to those who ask for it (James 1:5). I can set Him before me, fixing my eyes on Him, and I won't be shaken- He is holding my hand. My heart is glad and my soul can rejoice because, even when things feel hard and upside down, I'm secure and held and never abandoned. He will show me the right path, even when it feels like a hard path, and in His presence, I can experience joy to the fullest extent.
I'm still walking in many of the same tensions that I was before, but my bitterness is giving way to joy. My circumstances haven't changed much, but my perspective has. When the lines don't feel like they have fallen in pleasant places for me, I choose to believe that there is more to the story than I can see. I'm actively moving my eyes from what I can see to Jesus, Who sees everything. Try as I may, I don't do it perfectly, but when I catch myself looking around, I tell Him and refocus back where my gaze belongs. When my eyes are straight ahead, focused on Him, I can stay in my lane, doing the things He asks of me without comparing it to what other people are doing. What He's doing with other people is none of my business, because it either leaves me puffed up with pride or feeling dejected and insecure. Neither of those are God's plan for me, which is why He tells me to focus on Him. He's my refuge and my only good, and He wants to be yours, too.
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