I often feel it lurking in the recesses of my thoughts- a weight so heavy, yet so familiar that I don’t even realize I’m carrying it.

It’s the nagging sensation to raise my eyes from prayer and assess the wardrobe of those passing my pew as they go up to communion. It’s the heat that rises to my cheeks like a pink flag of surrender as I carry my screaming son out of mass, past the mother whose children are sitting like sweet cherubs in their places. It’s the heavy sigh that fills my lungs as I mindlessly scroll through  my Instagram feed, measuring my current state of couch-sitting against the highlight reels of everyone else’s lives- and coming up short, every. single. time.

It’s Comparison.  and it’s the thief of joy, or so I’ve heard it called.

It seems as though my feminine heart is hardwired to compare. Or more likely, its just the influence of a culture which has built its empire on teaching girls how to scrutinize every aspect of themselves by constantly looking to the other for validation.

Regardless, I think its fair to say- we’ve all been there. We know all too well the wounds that stem from subjecting our worth – as mothers, as employees, as friends, as women- to how we stack up next to someone else.

Comparison, when done with the intention of assessing one’s worth or ability or ‘status’, begets jealousy and pride. Its the thief in our hearts which most certainly can steal our joy- and, in its most monstrous forms, even destroy our relationships with others.

And the more we feed it, the more we fuel it, the bigger it will become…until its no longer stealing our joy, but engulfing it entirely.

It will only do so, however, if we let it.

So how, you ask, do we combat something which seems to come so ‘naturally’?

With humility, sisters, I offer you these thoughts:

1. If you’re like me, and struggle already with the habit of comparison (and the hurtful, even sinful mindset it can create) seek reconciliation and sound counsel in the sacrament of confession, as often as you need to.
2. As you strive to break the harmful habit of comparing, try also to replace it with a fruitful one- find a time and a place each day in which to voice your gratitude to God; perhaps pick out a spot to write down a specific person/blessing/experience you are grateful for and read over your collection at the end of the week. Seeing this tangible reminder of God’s goodness in your own life will surely be of great encouragement!
3. Hold within your heart the verse from 1 Corinthians Chapter 13 which reminds us that love does not delight in evil, but REJOICES in the truth. For me personally, calling to mind this verse when faced with the temptation to compare has given me the inspiration I need to feel joy for the blessings that others are given or for the good that they do, even if it is different than my own. Praise God that those around me have different talents and gifts than I do- after all, how would the body function properly if each member was the same?
4. Finally, and most importantly, steep your worth in Jesus. It sounds so simple (and it probably should be), but as most things in life, its easier said than done. Go before our Lord in prayerful adoration, let His gaze rest on you, and BELIEVE with your whole heart that you are more your true, authentic self in that gaze than in the eyes of anyone else, most especially your own. Ask Him for the grace to see yoursself and those around you through those eyes of mercy.

In the words of St. Catherine of Sienna, “Be who God meant YOU to be, and you will set the world on fire.”

There is no need to be another or to have what another has in order to live an abundant life…that can be done at each moment, right where you are. With hearts transformed by this truth, may our God who is bigger than our uncertainties give us the grace always to do so.

It happens to me on a daily basis.

Little chances come my way- the chance to be faith-filled, to be brave, to be humble—to pray instead of worry, to step away from the gossip (or better yet, combat it with positivity) or to refrain from seeking recognition for the fact that I’ve washed the dishes for the third time in a day.

Yet, so often (too often), I fail miserably in the face of opportunity. In great irony, I cling to my pride as if it were a life preserver or I sink beneath the waves of anxiety thrashing around me as I refuse to acknowledge the all-powerful God in my midst.

I am so much like Thomas as he ruefully brushes aside his friends’ assertions that they have indeed witnessed the risen Lord. I am so much like Peter, sinking into the ocean’s depths as I avert my eyes from Jesus’ to the angry waves below me.

Out of all the apostles, Thomas was the one who hadn’t yet seen the risen Lord with his own two eyes. When I put myself in Thomas’ shoes, I can see the situation through the same narrow humanity- surely he was at least a little crushed to be the ONLY one who hadn’t experienced the joy the rest of his friends were reveling in. Maybe he felt betrayed, even a little resentful. And so he chose his pride. He chose to build a wall, to voice his doubts in a way that made those around him feel frustrated and small.

Jesus reminds us in the gospel that “Blessed are they who have not seen and still believed.” ‘That could have been YOU, Thomas’ I always think somewhat scornfully whenever I read this passage. ‘You could have been MORE blessed by what you perceived as an injustice, if you’d just had a little humility, a little faith.’

When Jesus came to the apostles, walking on water as they cried out in fear through the storm, Peter asked for an opportunity, and Jesus graciously gave it. So, Peter climbs out of the boat and begins placing one foot in front of the other, literally walking atop the unforgiving sea towards the outstretched arms of His Lord. Yet, somewhere along the way, his faith gives in.

When I picture myself in Peter’s shoes, again, I can all too closely understand what happened. It probably only took a glance away from the gaze of the savior to draw his whole attention towards the fact that the wind was crashing mightily against his body as waves rose up ready to engulf him. Never mind the fact that two seconds before he had been WALKING ON  WATER- the sight of the storm was enough to shake him…to steal away the opportunity before he even realized it had been missed.

Thomas failed. Peter wavered. They missed their opportunities to be holy, to choose truth. They were broken, wounded, human men…as human as you and I.

But…just because their opportunities were missed, doesn’t mean that God’s was.

Jesus appeared to Thomas, surrounded by the apostles in the locked upper room. Those around him witnessed his transformation of faith as he touched his shaking fingers to the wounds in His savior’s hands and feet and the gash in His side. Jesus reached out to Peter as He sank, pulling him to safety in one swift and powerful motion, affirming once again to the scared group left in the boat that indeed this man was their Lord, and that they were safe in His presence.

Even in Thomas’ doubt, Even in Peter’s fear, God’s glory was magnified.

I can’t always see the bigger picture waiting outside of myself- the one that God wants to orchestrate in order to bless me in bigger ways than I could ever imagine…and sometimes, when I fail to look at my life through eyes of faith, opportunities are missed. I take a few steps backwards. But always, always Jesus is there, in every failing, giving me exactly what I need- ready and waiting to draw beauty from the mess I’ve made.

My God is SUPER-abundant, and lucky for me, He can and will use even my brokenness, my ugliness, my emptiness to do His will…He only needs me to let Him. To surrender to Him those places in me of which I’m so ashamed.

He isn’t afraid of my failure.

His light is so much deeper than my darkness ever could be.

I may be lost, but I am not a lost cause.

And the same goes for you.

There’s an enemy who would love to keep us in that dim, lonely place we shut ourselves into when we miss opportunities, or just completely dishevel the ones we are given. By God’s grace, may we never let him.

When (not if, but when) we fail, may we only ever reach out to Jesus who is already reaching out for us.

And may we trust that not merely in spite of our failure, but from our failures, Jesus will draw us closer to His most sacred heart.