When Peter saw him, he said to Jesus, “Lord, what about this man?” Jesus said to him, “If it is my will that he remain until I come, what is that to you? You follow me!” John 21:21-22
“What is that to you?”
I appreciate these words of Jesus because I struggle with comparison. I always have. It is the way I often measure my value. My metric for happiness and success is by comparing myself to others. It is never enough to just be okay without comparing my ‘okayness’ with the people surrounding me.
Because, deep down, I just want to belong. I want to fit in. I want to know I’m part of the group.
But also, I want to be special. That too. I want to fit in and stand out. In Brene Brown’s words, to “be like everyone else, but better.”
And what I realize, as time goes on, is that God is uninterested in these metrics and comparisons. They are mostly irrelevant to Him. God does pay attention to them, but for the purpose of dismantling this whole dysfunctional comparison system. And God does this, often, by disappointing our small hopes and dreams. He wants so much more for us.
But it is still disheartening when God has led me to doors that don’t open. It has felt like He has directed me to an oasis of comfortability and security, only to find out it was a mirage. And, at first, it is confusing. Sometimes even crushing. But also clarifying.
Because my hopes are usually some form of escape. Protecting my feeling of belonging without risking exposure. A way out, instead of the way forward. A cheap sense of success, like the trophy that every kid receives at the end of the soccer season. But God desires so much more for me. And, at first glance, this feels like too much work. It is too complex. Too risky.
And to remain in the challenges is to have to speak the truth, both to others and myself. And with this comes vulnerability. Of disappointing others. Disappointing myself. Being seen. Receiving criticism. Being misunderstood.
My first impulse is always to run to greener pastures. I jump at the opportunity to get out of the difficult work. But God, lovingly, closes the door. He gently bursts my bubble of hope. He insists that I remain in the real work.
In these moments my prayers can get really raw. Why?! Why would you get my hopes up only to frustrate them? And one time, in particular, God answered, simply and succinctly. “Because you need this.”
And how I heard this was, “Trust me, Jeff. Your life isn’t out of control. This is still plan A. And you’re right where I want you.”
And, looking back, I find that this is always just what I need to renew a deeper sense of purpose and calling. To lean into my integrity and to simply trust God. To remain and stand in the gap. To not just notice and discern what is wrong with the world, but to bring truth into the places I am called to shine.
And when God does this, the actual thing I’m seeking becomes clear. My actual value and worth. But not measured up to anyone else’s standards, but instead becoming who God sees me to be. Not comparing my life to anyone else’s, but instead resting in the only identity that matters. To be His. And to follow.
I sure love you guys!
Jeff