I did it again. I took out my measuring tape and measured. It wasn’t the dainty kind I carry in my purse and embarrass my husband with, or the big black one pocketed in his tool belt hanging in the garage. Rather I used a sly invisible one I carry inside of me, the one no one else sees. I am angered and humiliated at the very ease with which I pull out the tab and string it out. I am actually shocked at how quickly it catches me unaware and unprepared, allowing the insidious comparisons to add up like numbers on a line.
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- Invitations? Really, why did she get asked and not me?
- Viral? You must be kidding. For me it means the flu.
- Likes? So childish, but I count ‘em.
- Friends? She has so many.
- Opportunities? Decreasing.
- Her stuff. My stuff.
- Their house. Our house.
- Made in the shade. Plowing uphill.
Jabbing jealousies are the enemies of thanksgiving.
They meter out degrees from self to another. Nothing kills a grateful heart as quickly as festering comparisons.There is a cure. Get a different measuring tape.
- One that measures forgiveness. And rejoices in its totality.
- One that counts the immeasurable love with which we are bestowed as the highest blessing.
- One that acknowledges the infinite sovereignty of God.
- One that looks forward to eternity without end.
Pure thanksgiving lays every other measuring tape down and raises Jesus high.
Unfettered thanksgiving looks to who He is because it is in that place we discover what is truly ours.
And it is beyond measurement.
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