I'm sure you've heard the phrase, "Comparison is the thief of all joy." And to that I would say, yes, I agree, Looking back I can see many, many times when I let comparison steal my joy, contentment, and confidence, robbing me of enjoying the gifts I'd been given.
And to that I say, well, it's just high time we get over it.
The other day a friend was coming over to visit who hadn't been to my house in a while. As I prepared for her arrival, images of her house flashed through my mind, propelling me forward as I swept and cleaned and moved things around as if I had been given 20 minutes to prepare for a visit from the queen.
My house is much smaller than hers, not as expertly decorated, and I still have young children running around making messes all the livelong day. (Read: we're not getting a pretty, white couch any time soon...) That being said, I caught myself viewing my home in comparison to hers, wondering if it would be good enough when she came, wishing I had more time to clean that, organize this, straighten that pile.
And then I stopped.
It was almost as if God tapped me on the shoulder and said, "I'm sorry, can we chat for a quick minute?" I was taken back to one of the very first days my husband and I spent in our home after purchasing it. We had just brought in the oven/stove combo and I don't even know if it was hooked up yet, but I grabbed Justin's hands, pulled him to the floor, and there in the middle of our kitchen we prayed that God would use our home for His glory. We asked Him to bring people through our doors who needed to be encouraged, who needed love, who needed Jesus. We told Him we were available for anyone who needed to stay in it, live in it, eat in it, or just BE in it. We wanted it to be used for Him and whatever plans He had for it. And over the past almost-eight years, He has faithfully answered that prayer.
We have hosted dinners, get-togethers, Bible studies, baby showers, going-away parties, supper clubs, birthday parties, college groups, play dates, missionary reunions, fantasy football draft parties, workshops, live-stream conferences, had four people live with us at different times, brought home two babies, hosted holidays, welcomed our neighbors and all their heartache, wrestled with our kids, and so much more. All because we were available.
Yes, our home may not be the biggest on the block or fanciest in Dallas, but where is it written you have to live in a mansion to make a difference? Jesus came in a stable and announced Himself first to smelly shepherds with their sheep. I don't think He cares much about the square-footage of my house. If only I will use it for His glory, wholly surrendered to Him and His purposes. And isn't that where we find the most joy?
I remember people looking at me funny when they heard we had so-and-so living with us. "Really? In your house?" "Is that weird?" "Do you have any privacy?" "Do they eat dinner with you?" And you know what, it's been some of my most favorite months. Sure, I didn't have an extra room while they were here. Sure, sometimes it meant cooking a little more food and setting out an extra plate. Of course, I wished a time or two they would go ahead and clean the bathroom already. :) But honestly, if I know God is using our home to reach out to those who need Him more, to be a safe place, to bring comfort and love, then shouldn't that be enough?
Needless to say, I chose to hang on to those sweet memories and push back the insecurity threatening to overtake my mind while I waited for my friend to arrive. And you know what? I stopped worrying what she might think and just enjoyed her company, and she never once asked why I didn't live in a bigger house or hire a professional decorator or scrub my floors a little harder. And the fellowship was sweet.
Thing is, at the end of my life, Jesus will not ask me how big my house was or where I bought that awesome rug. He'll ask me what I did with what He gave me. How well I loved others. How often I opened my home, and consequently, my heart, to those in need. So in 2018, here's to pushing back the comparison that seeks to steal our joy, and instead, choosing gratefulness for all the ways we've seen God at work. Messy house and all!