“Mommy, when is my hair going to be golden?  I wish I was as pretty as a princess.”

And so it begins.  For 6 years, my sweet girl has lived in a world free from the evil of comparisons.  She lived in a place where she simply “was”, and didn’t “have to be”.  She lived at peace with her flaws and imperfections, rarely noticing the difference between her and the little girl standing next to her.  She was free to be herself, the self that God created.

From the moment she could understand, we have told her that true beauty only exists on the inside, and that the outward appearance is simply inconsequential.  It is nothing but the packaging. It is nothing more than the pretty wrapping paper that disguises the presents under our Christmas tree, it holds no bearing on the value of the gift inside.

If we have been so careful to teach her the value of the inward, where did this idea of comparisons come from?  Where did the idea that she should look to the person standing next to her to determine her value, her worth, to decide if she measures up to some arbitrary standard of beauty or success?

Certainly, it couldn’t be from me?  Right, Lord?  It wasn’t me who did this?

Look at that Mom over there, her kids are always so perfect.  How does she keep her house so clean? I can’t even seem to keep up with the laundry. She always has it together.  She never seems to get frustrated like I do.  She doesn’t have the struggles that I do.  She always does the neatest crafts, I am so uncreative. She is such a healthy cook, good baker,  she is so organized, cheerful,  such a good teacher. She is always so put together, and I am so…not.  She is, I am not.  She is, I am not.

And so the evil of comparison goes.

When did the mother standing next to me become my measuring stick for how successful I am?  When did I start to determine my worth by someone else’s outward acts, instead of my own inward devotion?  When did I fail to recognize that we all fall short?

For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.- Romans 3:23

All fall short.

You, me, my daughter, the “perfect” mother who does not exist, we all fall short.  Everyday.

This is the only measuring stick we need.

Nothing good has ever come from our comparisons.  Our comparisons lead to inward disgust at out own inabilities as compared to the woman next to us, or worse, pride.  Pride rears it’s ugly head as we recognize our one specific strength in light of someone’s specific weakness.  Either way, we lose.   Our friendships suffer, our kids suffer as we strive to be someone and something we are not, our faith suffers as we take our focus off of our God and place it squarely on ourselves.

Comparison robs us of the joy of being the mother that God created us to be, flaws and all.  God gave me specific talents and abilities, and He purposefully chose not to give me others.  He did not desire for me to be good at all things, because if I was, I would rarely need Him.  In fact, I would rarely need anyone.  It is my weakness that allows me to cling to the hope that Christ gives.  In my weakness, then, only then am I strong in Him.

Peace comes when we recognize that every gift that we have, every natural talent or ability, is from the Lord, and should be used to minister to those around us.  Peace comes when we realize that the person next to us has a completely unique set of gifts, so that they to can minister to those around them.  These gifts are not the same, nor should they be.  Peace comes when we recognize that we all fall short of the standard, that sufficiency is found only in Christ.  Peace comes when we realize that no matter how hard we work to become something we are not, we will still fall short.

Peace comes when we stop looking over our shoulder to determine how fast everyone else is running, and focus on the race ahead.  Our race.  The race that God has asked us to run.  The race that is unique to us, that God has equipped us for.

Peace comes when we recognize that God didn’t give us golden hair, and He did it for our good.

“When mommy?  When will my hair be golden?”

Never, my sweet girl.  Your hair is a beautiful chestnut brown.  It is dark in the winter, and reflects the golden sun in the summer.  It is the color of our leaves on an autumn day.  God made you special.  You are Aubrey Ann.  You are not a Disney Princess, you are a real princess of the one true King, and He loves you just the way you are.

Just the way you are.