What is it with women? We are constantly comparing ourselves to other women. It is a completely defeating and deflating practice, but one that I find very hard to shake. Just when I think I'm doing pretty well, I go and read my friend Candace's blog, or spend the afternoon with my friend Laura, and I realize that I can't even tell you where the book of Zephaniah is found and I have no idea when I last baked rolls by hand let alone stocked my freezer with them for later and if my kids had the swine flu and I were 9 weeks pregnant I wouldn't be blogging about the ways it was ministering to me, rather I would be muttering mildly crude words under my breath and/or throwing things up at the sky.
(above-mentioned friends, please be complimented as I am not being sarcastic but am admiring you greatly)
One of three things is happening, as far as I can see. Either I am just not as good of a person, or I am too transparent (something I tend to be) or I am blind to the good being worked out in my own life and can only see the mundane and unspiritual and definitely not medal-worthy.
Maybe someday, in that Great Place to which I am headed I will see my dear friends for the flawed creatures that they were in this life. But for now, all of you are perfect and that makes me a pretty good friend to have as I will always see your best features but just don't come over for a play date when I am feeling like this or you might leave wishing you hadn't quit smoking years ago.
