Loving Two

Megan Breedlove August 24, 2009 0 Comments

Shortly before my first child was born, I quit work to begin staying home. When she arrived, at six pounds and five ounces of precious perfection, I was thrilled. All the effort that had formerly gone into my career, I now put into my relationship with my daughter and being the best mom I could be.

We took walks together, played together, and listened to music together. I was delighted with everything about her. Ellie was bright and curious and fun to be with, and she was beautiful. Not only that, but she was a great sleeper. I was completely in love.

Nine months after her birth, I found out I was pregnant again.

My husband and I had wanted to become pregnant, and we were elated that it had happened. So I expected the excitement. What I didn’t expect, as my due date drew closer, were the mixed feelings about giving up my time alone with my precious firstborn.

By that point, Ellie was almost eighteen months old. She could walk and run, and she could even talk quite well for her age. She was full of personality, and we had really bonded.

I had mixed emotions about bringing another baby into the house. On the one hand, I was very excited. On the other hand, I was mourning the loss of my and Ellie’s special one-on-one time together.

And, if I was being completely honest with myself, I also had to acknowledge one nagging worry: how could I ever love a second child as much as I loved Ellie?

Friends of mine who had more than one child told me they didn’t know how it worked exactly, but God gives moms enough love for each child they bear. You don’t love the first one the most, the second one a little less, the third one less than that, and the fourth one not at all. It’ll happen, they assured me. Don’t worry.

I tried to take their advice, but I still wondered. Would it really happen? If so, how?

I found out how when Kenny was born. Maybe it’s more accurate to say that while I didn’t find out how, I found that every word of what my friends had said was true. I loved him as much as I loved Ellie. Somehow, instantly, it was true. I hadn’t yet built a relationship with him as I had with her. That would come later. But my love for him was there now, just because he was there and he was mine.

Aren’t you glad that God loves His subsequent children as much as He loves His first, too?

Aren’t you grateful that God has just as much love for you as He does for the first Christian?

And what a blessing it is to know that because of the never-ending nature of His love, God will have as much love available for your child as He has for you.

Let me offer you an even more incredible thought.

Isn’t it absolutely astonishing that God loves us as much as He loves Jesus, His firstborn?

It’s easy for us to acknowledge the all-surpassing love God has for His Son, Jesus. That’s different, we think.

But it’s not. Friend, the same overflowing, boundless love that He gives to His Son, He extends to you and me.

Can you even begin to wrap your mind around that amazing fact? That God loves you fully and completely, as much as He loved His Son, Jesus?

You see, God so loved the world that He gave His Son to die for us and redeem us. He would not give His precious Son on behalf of people He didn’t care about.

Human words aren’t adequate to describe the extent of God’s love for us. For you. For me. But God’s Holy Spirit is adequate.

Bow before Him now. Ask Him to help your spirit to absorb His love. Let it begin to trickle into the tiniest corners of your soul, until it fills you up and permeates your entire being. And even then, you will not know the full extent of it.

But oh, friend, if we can grasp even the tiniest spark of God’s love—if we can begin to realize just how much He loves us—it will change us completely.

Ask Him to help you realize His love in a way you never have before. Your life will never be the same.

John 3:16—For God so loved the world, that he gave his only-begotten son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.

Loving Stephanie

Megan Breedlove July 20, 2009 0 Comments

Two years ago, my children and I attended a birthday party for one of Kenny’s friends. At the time, Ellie was four, Kenny was two, and Lindsey was one. Ellie was excited about going to the party, but not just because it was a birthday party. Ellie knew the birthday boy’s older sister Stephanie would be there, and Ellie considered Stephanie her best friend.

Stephanie was several years older than Ellie, an older girl but not yet a tween. Usually, when our families were together, Stephanie was interested in playing with Ellie. Other times, she not only seemed disinterested but ignored Ellie. Because of her age, I would have expected her not always to be interested in playing with a four-year-old. But at her age, I also felt she should have known how to politely respond when Ellie spoke to her, rather than simply ignoring her.

Due to special circumstances, and because Ellie idolized Stephanie, I sometimes allowed the two girls to play together and then dealt with issues as they arose. And Ellie never seemed to mind that they often did. Though she would sometimes feel hurt or bewildered by Stephanie’s words or actions, she never stopped loving Stephanie, and she never stopped being overwhelmed with excitement when she saw her or had the opportunity to play with her.

That’s what happened at the party. Ellie had brought some glo-sticks—those tiny tubes you can make glow in the dark and then form necklaces or bracelets with—that she wanted to share with Stephanie. We arrived at the party, and we didn’t see Stephanie at first. But soon, Stephanie appeared from her room and headed toward the kitchen, where the snacks were set out. “Stephanie!” Ellie squealed excitedly, and started toward her.

Stephanie grabbed a handful of pretzels and started toward the back patio doors.

“Stephanie, I have a glo-stick for you!” Ellie said proudly, holding out the treasure she’d kept safe all the way to the party.

Stephanie didn’t even look at her.

“Stephanie!” Ellie called. “Stephanie!”

Stephanie opened the patio doors, stepped through, and shut them again.

Ellie came to a stop, a bewildered look on her face. She stood for a moment staring after her friend, then turned back to me. Silently, she returned to sit beside me, her head down. My heart ached for her, and I wondered for the thousandth time how Stephanie could so completely fail to realize that she shouldn’t act like that, and why.

Oh, but precious sister in Christ…isn’t that the way we act toward God sometimes? Don’t we ignore his love, freely poured out to us who don’t deserve it? Aren’t we sometimes rude to Him? Don’t we take for granted the fact that He loves us with all the passion in His heart?

Sure we do, and then we only pay attention to Him when we’re interested. When we want some comfort or some amusement, we turn to Him. Otherwise, we head right out the patio doors.

Ellie was hurt and bewildered at Stephanie’s response—or lack thereof. God is never bewildered, but His heart is wounded when we fail to respond to Him in love.

Friend, do you treat God the same way Stephanie treated Ellie? Imagine how He feels when you do that. Or imagine how God the Father feels watching us treat His Child the way Stephanie treated my child. Probably similar to the way I felt, or the way you would have felt in my situation.

The most remarkable thing about the relationship between Stephanie and Ellie is this: Ellie continues to love despite the many offenses Stephanie has committed against her.

The most remarkable thing about our relationship with God is that He continues to love us despite the many offenses we have committed against Him, and despite the fact that He knows there will come a next time where we hurt Him.

There came a point where Stephanie’s verbal offenses became too numerous and too hurtful for me to allow her and Ellie’s relationship to continue, except within the boundaries of strict limitations. Aren’t you glad that God the Father doesn’t limit our relationship with His Son when we have racked up too many sins?

Yes, our sin separates us from God and creates distance between us, similar to the limitations I had to impose on Stephanie and Ellie’s relationship. But aren’t you glad that those limitations can be removed any time we’re ready to repent and return to Him? Don’t you rejoice that there is never a “point of no return”?

Despite the imperfect way we love Him, God never stops loving us. He never stops being willing to have a relationship with us. He keeps on loving us despite the times we hurt Him, or ignore Him, or sin against Him in some other way.

So, as incredible as it is that Ellie still loves Stephanie…isn’t it vastly more incredible that God still loves us?

Praise Him for His perfect, everlasting love. Repent of any sins you have committed against Him. Then, ask Him to help you love Him with all your heart.

Don’t ignore the relationship with Him that He’s offering you. Don’t just head out the patio door. Turn to Him in awe and gratitude that He wants to relate to you, a human being, at all. Go to Him, and spend the rest of your life loving Him. Not just sometimes, but always.

Deuteronomy 6:5—Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength.

Mommy Cares

Megan Breedlove June 15, 2009 0 Comments

My daughter Lindsey is pretty hardy. She doesn’t get hurt easily—which is good, since she loves to try new physical skills. In fact, one day when she was not yet two, I had to remove her from the bathroom vanity twice and the kitchen counter five times. In the bathroom, she had climbed up on the potty and from there to the sink. To get onto the kitchen counter, she had pushed a dining room chair up next to it and climbed onto the chair, then onto the counter.

But on this particular day, she had hurt her toe.

I saw her crying, and I said something like, “You’re okay. Go wipe your nose.”

I was nice about it, but I knew she wasn’t really hurt. Lindsey thought otherwise. “My toe, my toe,” she repeated tearfully.

I looked at her toe. It looked fine to me. But looking at her tearful face, runny nose and all, I realized that she had really hurt herself, or at least believed that she had. Indestructible Lindsey was hurt.

“I’m sorry,” I said compassionately. “Now go wipe your nose.”

Lindsey got up and went willingly to get a Kleenex. I had given her what she needed. She was then able to move on.

I didn’t make her toe feel better, but I did make her heart feel better. You see, Lindsey didn’t need me to fix the situation; she needed to know that I cared.

Often, that’s the same thing we need from God.

Granted, there are times when we desperately want His help to fix a situation. But there are other times—many other times—when we can live with the situation if we just know He cares.

We live in a fallen world. All of us know that. We understand that that brings consequences—pain, sin, suffering, and even death. We know that not everything in life will go the way we desire, and for the most part, we have accepted that. We don’t rail against everything that happens to us, just the most painful things, if we rail at all. But even in the midst of a level of hardship we can accept, we want to know that God cares.

You see, that’s what helps us make it through—knowing that God cares about the details of our day-to-day existence.

When we come to Him and tell Him something hurts, we want to know that He cares. We don’t expect Him to fix everything, because we know that sometimes, in His infinite wisdom, He allows suffering. But just as Lindsey sought from me some evidence that I cared, so we seek from God the knowledge that He cares.

And we find it, again and again and again.

God cares more about us than we can possibly comprehend. He demonstrated His love and concern most blatantly when He watched His Son hang on a cross, dying. But He also shows His love every day, all day.

He provides the air that we need for each breath. He gives us shelter. He blesses us with family and friends. Not only that, He provides us comfort and strength any time we need it.

Any time, anywhere, God makes Himself available to us for comfort, wisdom, strength, or anything else we might need. Isn’t that incredible? The God of the entire universe is always, immediately available to respond to you. To me. If that doesn’t convince us that He cares, nothing will.

Friend, is there some area of your life today where you need to know that God cares? Could you make it through your circumstances if you just knew that He cared?

Go to Him. Tell Him that you need to know. Tell Him you need reassurance of His love and caring. He’s there, ready and waiting to give it to you, and He won’t condemn you for needing it.

It’s true that sometimes, God doesn’t make His presence as intensely felt as others. There may be times where He asks you to walk by faith, without the emotional experience you were hoping for. But even during those times, He will make His love and concern plain to you. He’s already done so throughout the pages of His Word, the Bible. He may use His Holy Spirit to speak to the needy places in your heart. He may use other people. Whatever the means, He will offer His comfort any time you need it. Why? Because He cares.

So go to Him. Tell Him what you need. And open your heart to receive the loving answer He will give.

1 Peter 5:7—Cast all your cares on him because he cares for you.

Nobody Cares

Megan Breedlove June 1, 2009 0 Comments

It was turning out to be a rough morning.

As I sat at the computer, Ellie (four or five years old at the time) came to me and asked me to go up into the attic and get down something for her. I told her that I was busy. When she realized that she wouldn’t be able to change my mind, she walked away crying.

I could hear the sounds of her wails fading through the kitchen, dining room, and then living room. I sighed. Then, from the front of the house, came words loud enough for me to hear: “Nobody cares.”

I’ll admit that I was irritated. Very irritated. I got up and followed Ellie, who by this time was in her bedroom. I went in to talk to her—or, more accurately, let off steam at her. “How dare you?” I asked. “How dare you say I don’t care about you? All the things I do for you, and I do one thing you don’t like, and you say I don’t care?”

It wasn’t the right approach because I wasn’t approaching her redemptively at all. I was coming to her in anger. The talk was unsuccessful (mostly because of my attitude), and I came back to the computer, fuming.

But gradually, I began to hear God’s still, small voice in my heart, and I knew I had been wrong. Yes, Ellie’s attitude needed to be corrected, but I should have done so in love. Precious little children are not designed by God to be able to respond at a peer level to adult anger. By the time Ellie came to me a few minutes later, wanting to sit on my lap and have me hold her close, I was much calmer. I explained slowly, calmly, and lovingly that “I used to have a job where people told me I was wonderful and I made money, but I gave that up to stay home with you kids.” She was listening, so I continued gently.

“I used to be able to go out to restaurants and eat any time I wanted to, but I don’t do that as much anymore so I can stay home and make meals for you kids. I used to be able to buy myself lots of things, but now, I buy you kids things instead.”

After a pause, Ellie said thoughtfully, “I guess you do love me.”

She had gotten the message.

But she wasn’t the only one who had gotten it. I, too, had something to learn.

Through Ellie’s emotions, God caused me to realize that many times, we do the same thing to Him that Ellie did to me. We accuse Him of not loving us just because He does something we don’t like, or fails to do something we would like. If God really loved me, we think—because we wouldn’t dare address these thoughts to God directly—He would be helping me out more right now.

What would God say in response to our accusations? Perhaps He would remind us of His majesty and sovereignty without ever giving a direct answer, as was the case with Job. Or perhaps He might say something like this: “I sent my Son to die for you. I provide the very air you breathe and your ability to breathe it. I provide every material blessing you have. How dare you accuse Me of not caring?”

The reason Ellie’s comment bothered me so much was because she (though unintentionally) was implying that my love for her was lacking, when in fact, I love her with all my being and would die for her without hesitation if that were required of me.

When we imply that God doesn’t love us, we grieve His heart for the same reason. He loves us with all of His being, and He died for us without hesitation.

Have you grieved your Father’s heart by questioning His love for you? Have you implied, or even told Him directly, that if He really loved you, He would do things your way?

If you have, run into His arms and beg His forgiveness. His arms are still open to receive you even though you’ve wounded Him. Confess your sin of doubting His love and His goodness. Then, receive His incredible grace that receives you and restores you to a right relationship with Him.

Realize the truth and speak the words, “You do love me, God.” Then go, in the mighty security of His love, and doubt no more.

Job 42:5-6—My ears had heard of you but now my eyes have seen you. Therefore I despise myself and repent in dust and ashes.

A Really Good Flyer

Megan Breedlove April 27, 2009 0 Comments

Our house is filled with toys. At least, it sometimes seems that way. I’ve even found the kids’ toys under my bed and in the drawer of my nightstand. What amazes me, however, is not the number of toys (after all, we have four kids), but the fact that we don’t lose more of them.

There are games we’ve had for years, for which we still have all the pieces. In addition, we still have toys that the kids played with years ago. I’m not referring to the toys we’ve stored in the attic for some as-yet-unknown purpose. I’m talking about the toys that have managed to escape the toy rotation and stay in the kids’ rooms because they are beloved and oft-played-with.

Sometimes, however, a beloved toy can’t be found.

That happened to Kenny the other day. He has a small toy which he alternately calls a spaceship or an airplane. He loves this toy because it has a light he can turn on and off. He swoops it through the air, making it fly fast and high. He really loves this tiny little piece of plastic. And one day, he couldn’t find it.

I was sitting at the table working on something. I knew that Kenny had lost his toy, and I knew he was looking for it. Because I wanted him to try to solve his own problem, I let him look on his own. I heard him saying things as he looked, like, “Nope, it’s not in there.” His voice got sadder and sadder. When he had almost lost hope, Kenny came and stood beside me.

“Will you please look for my spaceship, the airplane?” he asked sadly. “He’s a really good flyer.”

I felt the poignancy of his request deep in my soul. You see, Kenny wasn’t merely asking for my help. He was pointing out the virtues of his airplane in the hope that knowing its worth would move my heart to find it.

Kenny was being an advocate for that airplane.

You and I also have an advocate for our needs. And we have one who loves us far more even than Kenny loves his airplane.

Friend, our advocate is Jesus.

Dictionary.com defines an “advocate” as “a person who pleads for or in behalf of another; intercessor”. This is exactly what Jesus does for us. The Lord of all Creation intercedes with God the Father on our behalf. He pleads for us, and for our needs.

Don’t miss the awesome wondrousness of that reality. Not only can you yourself confidently approach your father, but His perfect Son Jesus is already there, advocating for you. I imagine Him saying something like this: “Father, she needs you. Please, meet her need. She’s your beloved child.”

Put your name into the words above. Then savor this truth. Let it sink deep into your heart and mind and soul.

But even more incredible than this amazing truth is the truth that God’s heart is moved by our need.

He’s not some distant deity who rules from on high without being touched by the fray below. No, our God is a personal God, an immediate and intimate God. He cares about us and our needs.

Over and over, the Bible shows God responding emotionally to his people’s needs. Granted, His emotions aren’t the same as ours. They are completely pure and always righteous. But He has granted us a relationship with Him such that our needs touch His heart.

No other follower of any other god dares claim that his or her god cares personally about human needs.

You and I do dare to claim this, because God the Father Himself proclaims it over and over throughout Scripture!

God the Son always lives to advocate for us, bringing our needs to God the Father, because He loves the fragile beings He created and died for.

God the Holy Spirit advocates for us with groans that words cannot express.

Imagine it. God cares deeply and passionately about us and our needs.

I can think of no more profound truth than that.

Praise God, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, that this is true.

To Him be glory, both now, and forevermore. Amen.

Hebrews 7:25—Therefore he (Jesus) is able to save completely those who come to God through him, because he always lives to intercede for them.

Romans 8:26—In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groans that words cannot express.

Job 16:19—Even now my witness is in heaven; my advocate is on high.

1 Peter 5:7—Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you.

2 Peter 3:18—To him be glory both now and forever! Amen.

It’s Pretty

Megan Breedlove March 16, 2009 0 Comments

My daughter Lindsey has a compassionate heart. When she sees someone hurting or in need, she is quick to respond by doing something to try to make them feel better. Sometimes, she’ll bring them a toy she knows they like; other times, she’ll pat them, look very concerned, and say, “Poor Mommy,” or whoever the person is.

A couple weeks ago, my four kids and I were getting ready to go somewhere, and Kenny couldn’t find his jacket. “Where’s my Cars jacket?” he asked, obviously beginning to get upset.

“It’s at the Y,” Lindsey answered, remembering that we had left it there last time we visited.

“Now I’ll never have a jacket,” Kenny wailed.

I gave Kenny a hug and tried to help him calm down. Then, I realized Lindsey was entering the room holding one of her jackets.

“Here, Kenny,” she said, holding it out to him.

Kenny was not gracious in his response. “No!” he insisted, not wanting any jacket but his own.

“Aww, Kenny, she’s offering you her jacket,” I prompted, hoping for a kinder response.

“No!”

“Here, Kenny,” Lindsey repeated, holding out her size 3T jacket. (Kenny takes a 5T, or, at the very least, a 4T.)

“No!”

“It’s pretty!” Lindsey pleaded, holding the jacket out to him and sounding as if she were close to tears.

My heart broke for her at Kenny’s ingratitude, and I did my best to make it up to her. “Thank you so much for offering him your jacket,” I said kindly and gently. “That was really sweet. I guess Kenny is just going to go without a jacket right now. But thank you, darling.”

That seemed to work, enough for us to get going and for Lindsey to forget about the incident, at least as far as I could tell. But the rest of that day, and many times since, I have remembered the look on her face as she pleaded with him to accept her offering, and the anguish I felt on her behalf when her offering was refused.

You see, Lindsey wasn’t just offering Kenny her jacket.

She was offering him her heart.

Lindsey was showing her love and concern in the best way she knew how, only to have it rejected. Oh, Kenny, I thought, please see the magnitude of what your sister is offering you. Please take it.

But he didn’t. And it hurt her.

In a way, it’s the same with us and God. You and I have nothing to offer God that He really needs. He doesn’t need our jacket. He is completely sufficient in and of Himself. Everything we have came from Him, and is His, anyway.

But in a way, it’s very different. You see, God never rejects our offerings when they come from a heart of love.

Aren’t you deeply, profoundly desperately glad that when you bring something to Him, He doesn’t reject it because it’s not what He wants or needs? Even more, aren’t you glad that He sees the thoughts and intentions of our heart, and accepts those that come from love?

Our offerings may consist of nuking a jar of strained peas in the microwave, or reading the same bedtime story for the thousandth time, or ferrying yet another child to yet another activity. But if those actions are presented to God in love, He will accept them as a beautiful offering.

Thank your Father that He accepts you and your simple, childlike offerings. Thank Him that when you come to Him, He is ready to receive you.

More wonderful than that, He welcomes you. His heart of love responds to your heart of love, and He gathers you up in His arms.

“Thank you,” He whispers. “Thank you for the jacket.”

Psalm 51:17—The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise.

Mommy Math

Megan Breedlove February 23, 2009 0 Comments

I was never that great in math at school. Oh, I did fine in the elementary grades, when math pretty much consisted of the four basic functions as well as some story problems. I even did all right in some of the easier aspects of algebra. But when it came to the more advanced aspects of algebra, or anything beyond that—anything where you had to understand abstract mathematical theory and couldn’t see the whole problem right there on the paper—I struggled.

Languages were my strong suit. They came easily to me. Math? It was much more difficult.

There is one kind of math, however, in which I excel. I bet that, no matter what your math grades in school were, you excel in this kind of math too.

It’s called Mommy Math.

Traditional math—the kind we learned in school—is pretty restrictive. It’s much less creative. 2 + 2 always equals four. Story problems involve trains leaving different points in different directions at different speeds. There is only one right answer. If you and I have two different answers, at least one of us is wrong.

Mommy Math is different. Answers are flexible. Story problems are much more interesting. There can sometimes be two (or more) right answers. And it’s definitely much more practical.

Consider, for example, this Mommy Math story problem:

Mommy has thirty minutes left before company arrives for dinner. If Mommy has 3 young children and a 1600-sq.-foot house, how long will it take the children to mess up the entire house while Mommy is busy putting the finishing touches on the ham? Answer: two minutes. And it will happen right before the doorbell rings.

Or this one:

If you have three Hello Kitty utensils in the silverware basket in the dishwasher, handles pointing upward; two of them are forks and one is a spoon; and you have to draw out one of the forks if you have any hope of getting your daughter to eat what you’re about to put on her plate, what are the odds that the first Hello Kitty utensil you choose will be a fork? Answer: 0%. (Traditional math would say “2 out of 3”, but this would be wrong, because as any mommy knows, you would draw the unwanted spoon every single time.)

Or this oh-so-relevant one:

If you have four children and one husband, and you are trying to put a meal on the table that all six of you will eat, and Child #1 won’t eat anything with meat, Child #2 won’t eat anything that looks “weird”, Child #3 will choose one of the older two to copy in deciding what she won’t eat, and Child #4 won’t eat anything she liked yesterday; and if all you have in the kitchen is something that would take you an hour to prepare, which would ensure that none of the kids would eat it, how long will it take you to give up on the idea of eating a nutritious meal and fix mac-n-cheese for the third time this week? Answer: three seconds.

You see? I told you that you were good at this kind of math.

It takes some effort and studying to succeed at traditional math. It takes a whole lot more effort—and studying, and praying—to succeed at Mommy Math. That’s because Mommy Math is a lot harder. There’s not always one right answer, and even your best efforts to find an answer won’t always result in a good one. Sometimes, you’ll make mistakes, and you still won’t have any idea what to do to make it right.

Aren’t you glad God is never at a loss as to how to raise His children? Aren’t you grateful He’s never confused, like we are sometimes? Isn’t it wonderful that despite the vast differences in His children, He always knows exactly what to do for each one at any given moment?

Despite our best efforts, we flounder sometimes. We make mistakes. We sin. We get tired. We come up short.

But praise God, He never does any of those things.

Precious mommy, I don’t write this to make you—or myself—feel guilty. If you’re doing the best you can, and doing it with plenty of prayer and in God’s strength, He is pleased, and your efforts are enough.

I just want us all to remember what a wonderful heavenly Parent we have.

We often think of God as an authority figure, and He certainly is that. We even talk about His being our Father, but we don’t often stop to consider what that means.

Friend, it means that we have a Father who always loves us perfectly and individually. He always knows what’s best for us. He is always ready to take exactly the right action on anything concerning us. He knows when we need discipline, and when we need comfort. He knows when to encourage us onward, and when to let us rest. He is always available to us, no matter where we are physically, emotionally, or spiritually, and He never fails us.

Have you thanked Him lately for being such a wonderful Father?

Have you expressed your gratitude to Him for His parenting of you?

Mommy, I know that you do countless wonderful things for your children. I know you love them with all your heart. But even the most caring, loving earthly parent cannot match God’s perfect care and love.

As God’s children, we benefit from His perfect parenting. Let your heart respond in gratitude and love to God for this incredible blessing, and make sure you tell Him how you feel.

Psalm 117:2—For great is his love toward us, and the faithfulness of the LORD endures forever. Praise the Lord.

Making Comparisons

Megan Breedlove February 9, 2009 0 Comments

I’m a proud mommy. I think—no, I know—that my children are wonderful. They are marvelous, unique creations of God. Not only that, but they are also delightful to be around. They are special people—quirky, compassionate, curious, and funny. In short, they’re precious to me.

I’m sure that your children are equally precious to you, and that you love them as much as I do mine.

That’s how it should be. A mother should delight in her children and love them with all her heart.

But unfortunately, sometimes there can be a spirit of competition among mommies, where “my child is wonderful” turns into “my child is better than yours”.

You’ve heard the discussions:

Mommy #1: Sophia’s walking now.

Mommy #2: Oh, really? Stacey’s been walking for two months now.

Or:

Mommy #1: Brad is really enjoying soccer at the YMCA this season.

Mommy #2: We’ve had Tim in soccer since he was 2. He also plays basketball and football, and his coach says he might play for a college one day.

There’s nothing wrong with sharing our children’s accomplishments, including the things they are good at. The wrong comes in when we imply that our child is better because his skills are better.

Often, the comparisons we make between our children are out loud. Sometimes, they’re not (“My child would never behave that way at the store,” we think to ourselves). Whether spoken or silent, the comparisons are hurtful, because it trains our minds to value someone based on qualities or accomplishments, not on her identity as a valuable creation of God.

We make comparisons about ourselves as mothers, too.

We compare ourselves to some arbitrary, unrealistic standard and then get down on ourselves for not being able to live up to it. For instance? I’m not as pretty as other mothers, we think. Or, I should be able to manage three small children, keep a perfect house, be an untiring lover, and serve gourmet meals. Or, If she can do it, why can’t I?

Equally sinful is believing that we have attained perfection in a certain area and becoming prideful.

Oh, friend, do you see what’s happening here? When we make comparisons, whether about ourselves or about our children, we are not only tearing the other mother or child down, we are also eating away at our own soul. You see, we must never, ever, evaluate someone’s worth based on characteristics or accomplishments. Your worth is not because you are the most organized mom on the block, or because your kids are better behaved than someone else’s, or because you always look fashionable.

Let me say it again, sweet mommy friend—these things have nothing to do with your worth.

Absolutely nothing.

You are of inestimable value and worth because you are a creation of God. You are wonderfully made. God’s work in making you was and is marvelous. You are made in the image of God. You can take part in reflecting God’s glory. You are loved by God Himself.

That’s why you are of great price—not because you wear a certain hairstyle, or have a master’s degree, or your house looks like Martha Stewart lives there, or every other mommy on the block wants to be like you.

Your worth is always and only because God says you are valuable.

Think about it—the very God who made the universe says that you are important. Out of all the kinds of people He could have made, He chose to make you, because He wanted someone like you.

There’s no way that the right shoes or the right house or the right occupation can improve on that.

So take it to heart, mommy friend. Know that you are valuable and you are loved. Give yourself a break from comparing yourself to other mommies. You see, the comparisons really don’t matter. So what if you’re “more” than someone else? So what if you’re “less”?

God loves you, and He says that you are of great worth to Him. Let that be enough for you—because it’s everything.

Psalm 139:14—I will praise thee; for I am fearfully and wonderfully made: marvelous are thy works; and that my soul knoweth right well.