Joy-stealers

"Comparison is the thief of joy." -Theodore Roosevelt

It truly is. And I think this is one of the biggest negatives of social media these days. Countless people have written about it and studied what it's doing to our generation's self-esteem. We see others post the best 10% of their life - fun events, cute selfies, etc. And we compare it to the 90% real-life-is-actually-hard-and-super-messy that we experience everyday. People are noticing this and getting better, posting "real life messy" pictures, and I think that's great. But I still compare myself to those. Oh cool, so glad they can be genuine and show me their mess...but honestly, their mess still looks better than mine.

Satan is good at his job. The father of lies and deception is so happy to see us spend our time comparing our lives/achievements/failures to those of our friends and family. Because when we are comparing, whether its lusting after someone's "perfect" looking life or even if it's a self-righteous "glad I have my life together more than that person" we are missing out on experiencing our own lives.

And I'm sick of it.

I can tell you that as a middle child in between two incredible sisters, I've done my share of comparing from a young age. Maybe if my sisters weren't so awesome, I wouldn't have struggled with this as much. ;) Just kidding...I'm sure I would have. I grew up constantly striving to be the best, to do the best, to make myself and my parents proud. And sometimes, I succeeded. I got good grades in high school, played sports, went to college, traveled abroad, taught high school for 4 years and got married. Check - check - check.

But sometimes I didn't succeed - not in the way the world views it. I quit grad school after a year, moved back in with my parents, eventually got a divorce, quit teaching, and am now trying to put the pieces of life back together and figure out what I want to do and where I want to go. And it's so hard. And that's what I tend to focus on. How tough it is, how I thought I was doing everything right and I still failed, how life throws you curve balls just because - and you have to figure it out anyways.

From that point of view it is SO easy to compare my life to other peoples' and let them steal my joy. And then I'm mad at them. You stole my joy! I was doing okay and then I realized how much better your life is because I saw your cute pictures or cause you're having a baby or you just got married or you landed your dream job or you just seem so darn happy. Ugh! How rude. Don't you realize what I've been through? I want that. I want your life.

I thought I had it, actually, but it turns out I was so wrong. I'm on a different path. And I don't want to be, but obviously, I don't have a choice. It is what it is. You can't go back and change the past. All you can do is choose how you move forward.

So how do I move forward? How do I stop this joy-stealing comparison and start appreciating what I have? Here's my current idea (and by current I mean I'm coming up with it right now so it's a serious work in progress):

Step 1: Develop gratitude. There is always plenty to be thankful for. Take time everyday to look around and be grateful for God's faithfulness in my life. For the beautiful moments of joy and laughter he gives me. For good friends, sweet family, a great boyfriend, a job, a cute apartment, the ability to run and dance and worship.

Step 2: Remember that everyone else out there is also NOT PERFECT. Just like me. We are all broken, sinful, messy, and struggling through life together. I'm not perfect, and they're not perfect. So quit trying to act like perfection is something to be attained! It's not!

"Perfectionism is not healthy striving. 

It is not asking 'How can I be my best self?' 

Instead it's asking, 'What will people think?'" -Brene Brown

Step 3: Give people credit. Assume they are all doing the best they can. Be generous in my assumptions about them. When someone hurts me, remember that they are just trying to get through this crazy life, too. Give them a break (and a Kit-Kat bar, if it feels appropriate).

Step 4: Cultivate joy. Enough with the comparison crap that makes me feel bad. If I'm gonna scroll through facebook then I need to be in a place where I can be excited for friends who have new babies or jobs or what not. If I can't do that, then I'm going to turn it off and go create something, exercise, go outside and play - do something that is life-giving.

The thing about joy-stealers is that it's not even their fault. You can't really steal someone's joy. You can take away their happiness, but not their joy. Joy doesn't come from circumstances. It's deeper than that. And for Christians, it comes to us from Christ - from the hope we have in His work on the cross and His infinite love for us.

So it's my choice whether I give up my joy to some well-posed, cute-captioned pictures on Facebook, or to my - probably wrong, definitely incomplete - picture of what other people's lives are like or if I keep it for myself. Honestly, this seems like a very easy choice. (PSA: It's not actually that easy. Sometime it's really difficult to choose joy when you're in the midst of some seriously trying circumstances...it seems easier to sit in the sadness and let it wash over you. And that's important to do sometimes, but I hope that at the end of the day we can strive to choose joy above sadness and above comparison. It's a process, as with most things, but I'm at least going to try.)

I'll take my joy back, thanks very much. And I'd like to keep it this time.

You can do everything right...and still fail.

"You can do everything right. You can cheer yourself on, have all the support you can find in place, and be 100 percent ready to go, and still fail. It happens to writers, artists, entrepreneurs, health professionals, teachers - you name it. But if you can look back during your rumble and see that you didn't hold back - that you were all in - you will feel very different than someone who didn't fully show up." -Brene Brown in Rising Strong

While this might not seem encouraging, the truth in it is a large part of why I feel like I didn't fully lose myself to my abusive and failed marriage. Because I did show up. I was in it to win it, as they say. Like I've said before, I meant it when I said I do. I meant forever. And that's the lens that I saw our struggles through. IT SUCKED. For sure - no doubts about that. But this was forever so eventually we would figure it out, right? Just gotta keep forgiving and keep loving him and keep trying to make things better. I hope most people agree that this is a good attitude to have in marriage - one of devotion and commitment to uphold the covenant.

However, this does not in itself guarantee success. Obviously one party can choose not to abide by the terms of the covenant. And long story short this is why our marriage failed. But does it mean I failed? It sure felt like it. Yet when I look at it in terms of Brene's words, I don't think I did. I stayed true to my values, I was all in. I did everything I could to save that marriage. (My stubborn self took a while to believe this, though everyone around me told me again and again that I was doing everything I could. I just felt like if that was true, then change would happen. And it didn't.)

So while I have to live as a divorced 28-year old, I am one who was all in. I tried, I suffered, I gave myself to that marriage. And honestly, I almost lost myself to it. I was so committed to saving our marriage that at one point I told the girls in my small group that I was willing to go down with him and his addictions - I couldn't watch him drown himself, and I didn't know if I was strong enough to walk away and save myself while he stayed trapped in the sin and brokenness.

But I did. I started to rise strong. I drew boundaries necessary for my survival. I asked for help from those around me - mentor, counselor, small group, family, pastor. I moved out because I literally could not live that way anymore. And I begged him to change. I gave him every chance. And he chose not to.

These realities are tough. They just are. You can do everything right and still fail. Ugh. Don't sign me up for that! But it's also SO comforting to me, an actively recovering perfectionist, because as much as I want to be in control, it's relieving to know that it's not necessarily my fault if I fail.

"For most of us who rely on blaming...the need for control is so strong that we'd rather have something be our fault than succumb to the bumper-sticker wisdom of "shit happens." If stuff just happens, how do I control that?" -Brene Brown

Well, hopefully it's clear by now that you can't. Which is hard to wrestle with. God created a world full of sinful humans who have free will. They get to do whatever they want, essentially. Sometimes those actions are beautiful, wholesome, encouraging, loving, and kind. But they are also hurtful, shameful, degrading, and just plain mean. So how can I control anything, really? Even if I do my damnedest to be kind, to effect change, and to do right unto others there is a possibility of failure. Not because God doesn't care, or because I did anything wrong, but because free will is out there and sin is running amuck.

This post feels like a roller-coaster.
1. You can do everything right and still fail.
2. Great! It's not my fault it failed - freedom!
3. Crap, even if I try as hard as I can I might still fail.

Well here's the encouraging wrap-up. Remember my last post about guarantees? Yeah, there aren't many in life. And there certainly aren't any about succeeding just because you tried hard. But failure isn't the end. We can learn from it, we can rise up and be braver because of it. We can share our stories of failure and encourage others in their struggles. And if we stay true to ourselves, show up, and live out our values, I believe that God honors that.

I was told by my sweet mentor many times during this process that God honors obedience. So if I could just do my best (imperfect as I am) to obey Him, to search His word for guidance and wisdom, and listen to His Spirit's nudging on my heart, then I would be ok. He would honor my efforts to obey Him. That doesn't mean success or lack of failure - it means so much more. It means that at the end of the day, I am right with God. My heart is in His hands, and there it is well cared for.

Psalm 94:1
"He will cover you with his feathers, and under His wings you will find refuge. His faithfulness will be your shield and rampart."

This is what matters most in life. With our hearts in God's hands they are safe. They are wholly loved and cherished. In the darkest moments of life, when the realities of pain and sin and failure are too much to bear, He is there. I cannot describe the comfort that is. It's not an intellectual comfort like "Oh cool, God's got me. Guess it's all just gonna be fine." HA. If you can feel that way in the depths of your brokenness then I guess props to you. But when I'm there in the dark...I need something bigger than myself. Bigger than "comforting" words about it not being my fault or learning from this experience or anything...I need a supernatural God to literally cover me with His feathers. Most nights that was the only way I could stop sobbing. I called out to Jesus and He came. Simple as that. I didn't have eloquent words or scripture coming to mind in that moment...I simply called out to Him in desperation "Jesus! Come." And He did. He showed up. And it didn't fix everything, it didn't make my husband decide to stop abusing me, it didn't reveal a super easy way out from all of the mess. But it calmed my heart in that moment. It gave me peace beyond what the world can give. And it's how I survived to get up the next day and try again.

Guarantees

Life doesn't give us many guarantees. This is quite unfortunate because as humans, we are programmed with a desire for certainty. We are curious beings, we want to know what's going on and what's going to happen. This is wired into our DNA for a simple reason: survival.

For example: You notice a cool plant. Great. But what is it? Can I eat the fruit? Do I need to stay away from it? Could the leaves have medicinal properties? (Just realized I might not want to include that as I write this post from leafy Colorado. Too bad - I'm leaving it in.) The point is, curiosity is important. It's how we learn about the world. And our questions continue until things make sense.

Our brains actually reward us with a surge of feel-good dopamine when we figure out patterns, when we complete stories. They don't have to be true necessarily, because our dopamine receptors can't tell the difference, but as long as we're sure we've figured out what's going on - reward time. Job well done. Move on and wonder about something else.

So with a body that desires patterns and stories it's troubling to live in a world that 1. Is chock full of uncertainties, confusion, and things we don't/can't understand and 2. Is satisfied if we come up with an explanation (even if its not true) and rewards us for explaining the complexity we've experienced.

This is fine most of the time and in general allows us to operate and function in the world and interact well with people around us. But the system suffers when you add in painful, traumatic events. Especially recurring ones. Now your brain is learning a story - over and over again. It's learning that if you do _______, then he will yell at you/call you names/chase you/trap you/degrade you for hours on end. If he even starts getting mad, then the yelling will continue all night long. If he calls you one name, its going to turn into a tirade confirming all your worst fears and insecurities about yourself. Your brain learns this story well and in some ways it enables you to survive because you also know that eventually it will end, and you will fall asleep somehow and tomorrow will come.

But what about a year later when you are trying to write a new story? When you've met someone else and he doesn't call you names, he doesn't yell, he doesn't chase. Most of the time the old story is forgotten, or at least not called into your conscious memory. But what if....what if something happens that makes your brain think you are back in that same story. One comment that your brain can't make sense of....so it searches. It searches the database for a pattern - desperately trying to finish the story. It finds something - not quite right but it's close enough. And that's it. The rest is already written. You know what's coming next. Or at least your body thinks it does. So it responds. Just like it learned how to - as if it was yesterday.

Fear washes over you like a flood. Breathing is difficult. A clutching feeling in your chest. You're walking away and can barely stand up. Where's the closet? I need to run and hide. I've shut down. Can't engage. Just let me be.

And the way this should finish is that he continues yelling but since you've hid in the darkest corner of the closet he eventually gets fed up and storms out of the house to go drink and smoke. You've survived. You'll have a couple hours to recover and hopefully get to sleep before he comes home.

But wait...that's not how this story ends. Not tonight. Tonight it's not him. It's someone who actually cares that you're hurting and wants to hold you close and comfort you. He has no clue what just got triggered and the crazy road you just went down. But he's here. He's not chasing you, he's hugging you, asking you to come back inside. And as much as what just happened must scare him, he stays calm and he holds you and rubs your back until you stop sobbing and can breathe again.

A new ending. There was no guarantee it would end this way. And as far as my neuronic memory was concerned, it wasn't going to. It was going to end how it always did.

Endings are hard to rewrite. It's hard to literally retrain your brain to script a new story. Uncertainty is scary. But it's time to learn how to sit in it for a little bit and let a new story take the place of what's wired in right now.

You know what guarantee life does give us? Hard times will come. Always.

Well that's depressing.
Sure, if that's the end.

But it's not. Grace exists. Freedom exists. Jesus' work on the cross promises us a new ending. Love wins every time. Freedom from fear and uncertainty is ours for the taking. It's not easy, but what good thing ever was?

It is for freedom that I am set free. Not to live in the repetitions of stories of abuse. But to courageously let Christ help me write new endings of comfort and peace and healing.