Oct 17, 2006 |
by Annette Bridges. © 2006. All rights reserved.
There are four “Cs” that thwart progress, strangle happiness, rob us of inner peace and keep satisfaction at an unreachable distance, and these are infamously known as criticizing, condemning, complaining and comparing. Each could be expounded upon and perhaps will be in future columns. But this week I am pondering the pitfalls of comparing.
How often I have looked at other people and compared myself to them! In my early childhood, many times I wanted to ask someone to come over to play at my house, and I didn’t. “Why would they want to come to my house? Their house was so much bigger and prettier,” I lamented. I’ve often wondered how many friendships I missed out on because of my own feelings of inferiority.
In high school, comparisons were inevitable and not always by choice. Social cliques were obviously distinguished by those who were on the cheerleading or drill teams and those who were not, the pretty girls and the plain girls, the skinny girls and the fat girls, the smart girls and the, shall we say, academically challenged girls, as well as the designer-dressed girls and the bargain-basement-fitted girls. And you were very clear how you stacked up and to which group you belonged.
After many school years of comparing as an acceptable mode of behavior, perhaps it’s no surprise that, as adults, we continue to compare ourselves with our neighbors, friends and colleagues. The problem with comparing is it often leads to envy, jealousy, unnecessary competitiveness and an undermining of our own self-worth.
In fact, comparing oneself with others is the basis for the old adage “The grass is always greener on the other side of the fence,” meaning we believe others are always in a better situation than we are, although they may not be.
Measuring ourselves against others sours our life, creating anxiety, stress, isolation and depression. It is a fruitless exercise and an incredible waste of energy. The truth is, there’s no one like us, and this makes us incomparable.
We’re each one of a kind with different traits, talents, skills and abilities. Each of us has God-given special gifts. We have our own life purpose to fulfill. The bottom line is no one can do a better job of being you than you.
As a middle-aged woman, I’ve grown weary of fretting about her funnier jokes or her smaller bottom or her newer car or her bigger paycheck or her flatter stomach and so on and so on. I’ve finally tired of feeling inadequate and not good enough.
On our cattle ranch, I’ve seen fields rich with green grass with always that cow who would rather risk getting her head stuck in between barbed-wire to eat grass on the other side of the fence than to eat what’s right at her feet. And the grass truly wasn’t any greener or better. In fact, the grass on the other side of the fence had not received the fertilizer the grass in the hayfields had received and truly wasn’t as good and nutritious. I’ve decided that perhaps I’ve spent too many years like that silly cow, not recognizing the good at hand in my own self.
In his first letter to the Corinthians, Paul gives an insightful and helpful analogy on the futility of comparing. He describes one body having many different parts, illustrating the import and uniqueness of each part. Each of these parts has a viable and needed role — not one is better or less important than another. While all are diversely different from the others, all are united into one body. (1 Corinthians 12:12-26)
Pondering this beautiful analogy has helped me recognize my uniqueness and special gifts and, consequently, also value and appreciate who I am — what makes me a “second to none” me. I suspect we all can do a much better job being ourselves than attempting to be someone else. I’m beginning to ask myself, “Why not just be the best possible me instead of a poor imitation of her.”
So, these days I’m working on being the best “me” I can be. I’m no longer comparing myself to others. If I’m not happy and satisfied, it’s because I want to be a better “me.” I think now my problem is that I tend to sometimes compare my middle-aged self with my younger self, and then I like the younger self better. Well, at least I like the smaller bottom and flatter stomach better! But that’s another story…
Oct 17, 2006 |
by Annette Bridges. © 2006. All rights reserved.
The world seems trapped in perpetual “us and them” warfare. No surprise, I guess, since “tribalism” is one of the oldest human cultures on earth. This point of view has long divided societies into subgroups called tribes who believe they share a sense of identity and kinship. We’ve grown quite accustomed to restricting ourselves into groups and categories.
I was taught to pick sides for relay teams in kindergarten. My life has always been about picking sides and recognizing differences — from the group of friends to have, to the color of our skin; from the religious denomination to join, to the size of our house; from the preference of sports team, to the type of car we drive; from the political party to endorse, and so on. It often seems impossible to see anything but our differences.
But what if the tribal perspective is not the best and most beneficial outlook — or even accurate from a spiritual standpoint? It seems to me that Christ Jesus’ teachings lead us to conclude another vantage point should govern our lives — one that makes any view that would separate and divide not a good or appropriate or right choice. He points out the two greatest commandments. The first is: “Hear, O Israel; The Lord our God is one Lord; And thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind, and with all thy strength.” Then Jesus tells us the second is like unto the first: “Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself” (Mark 12:29-31).
Certainly, recognizing that there is only one God unifies us in the understanding that we all have the same divine Parent. Our viewpoint changes to “we” instead of “us and them.” And loving our neighbor becomes more about what binds us rather than what separates us. Are we not interconnected as a universal community of God’s beloved children? How does this premise change our attitudes, opinions, decisions, choices and behavior toward each other, about each other, for each other?
I’m reminded of a story I heard long ago of a Midwestern farmer who year after year won a blue ribbon for his corn in the state fair. One year a newspaper reporter interviewed him and discovered the farmer shared his seed corn with his neighbors. This surprised the reporter, since the farmer’s neighbors were also entering their corn in the same competition. The farmer explained how wind picks up pollen from the ripening corn and carries it from field to field. He said, “If my neighbors grow inferior corn, cross-pollination will steadily degrade the quality of my corn. If I am to grow good corn, I must help my neighbors grow good corn.”
I loved this lesson of the connectedness of life. It points to solutions for every community and world problem. Those who choose to be at peace must help their neighbors to be at peace. Those who choose to live well must help others to live well. Those who choose to be happy must help others to find happiness. The welfare of each one is bound up with the welfare of all. So, “if we are to grow good corn, we must help our neighbors grow good corn.”
Sept. 11, 2001 taught me I could no longer live in isolation from the rest of the world. I am connected to my brethren around the globe. I can’t ignore opinions and philosophies that differ from mine. And I can’t ignore the suffering, confusion and misunderstandings of my neighbors either. Shortly after 9/11, I wrote and submitted my first guest column to a newspaper. My hope has been that by sharing ideas and experiences that have helped me, I may be of help to others. And I’m listening to, reading and desiring to understand viewpoints of others, too.
A couple of weeks ago a news commentary about the work Heifer International is doing in Tanzanian communities in the battle against hunger and poverty caught my attention. This organization expounds upon a simple idea of giving families a source of food, such as a heifer, rather than short-term relief of food provisions. But even more compelling is the project’s “Passing on the Gift” aspect, in which participants in the program agree to experience the joy of helping others by giving a neighbor the offspring of their animal as well as training support. In Tanzania, Christian and Muslim neighbors are forming bonds and joining together to better their own lives.
In reading a bit about the history of this grassroots-focused organization, I discovered it was founded by a Midwestern farmer, Dan West, who after giving milk to hungry children during the Spanish Civil War, concluded, “These children don’t need a cup; they need a cow.” This conclusion led to his founding of Heifer International in 1944 based upon that philosophy, and since that time helping 7 million families in 128 countries gain self-reliance and hope. Today, Heifer has over 600 projects in 51 countries, including the United States.
Perhaps Dan West knew that Midwestern corn farmer. Maybe they were neighbors. They both understood that what blesses one, blesses all.
I’m going to endeavor to live my life based upon those two great commandments emphasized by the Master, knowing that in God’s eyes there is no “us and them,” for we be brethren. My hope is that the leaders in this and other countries can learn to make judgments and decisions on the same basis. Then, it would never be a question of whether we should help a neighbor, but only how.
Oct 17, 2006 |
by Annette Bridges. © 2006. All rights reserved.
Criticism. Is there a day that goes by in which any of us doesn’t feel its sting or dish it out — or witness another either being hurt or abusing others with this purposeless weapon?
The irony about criticism is that by definition it has the potential to be a healing and positive force for growth and progress. Instead, it is often misused and so never reaches its potential.
Criticism is supposed to be an offering of a valid and well-reasoned opinion or a new and fresh perspective, with the intention of helping and correcting. As such, an individual who is critical in this way actually takes a peaceful and benevolent approach and is non-authoritarian and diplomatic. But all too often, people criticize with hostility and insult, then demand and oppose without sound judgment or analysis — and usually with an uninformed interpretation of the facts.
I’ve given out my fair share of this kind of criticism and no doubt have been as guilty as another of being rash and unreasonable. But lately I’ve been challenging myself to consider my words and actions more wisely. This is mostly because I’ve been thinking about the man who many refer to as the best man who ever walked this earth and who is also the most criticized man to have ever lived — Christ Jesus.
I often wonder how Jesus would be received if he arrived on the human scene today, and I can’t help but conclude that his treatment would be no different than if it was 2,000 years ago. Would he really be any more understood? He most certainly would break down so-called holy traditions, ignore societal codes and offer ideas that are “out of the box,” compared to accepted and long-believed norms and opinions. No, I fear he would still be criticized, maligned and persecuted.
What do we hope to accomplish by our criticism? Can we learn to turn criticism into a force that heals rather than one that hurts? How do we do that?
Jesus gives us instruction when he once rebuked his disciples who were angered because a village they had entered wasn’t welcoming them, and they wanted to “command fire to come down from heaven, and consume them.” Jesus told his brethren, “Ye know not what manner of spirit ye are of.” And he also reminded them, “The Son of man is not come to destroy men’s lives, but to save them” (Luke 9:51-56).
Surely this means that we, too, must examine our hearts and be sure our words and actions have the same purpose as that of our Master — to save and not destroy.
And there’s no time like the present. One of Britain’s most notable physical scientists, Martin Rees, in his book “Our Final Hour,” states that the very survival of the human race is dependent on actions we take in the current century. Somehow I can’t help but think we must change the manner of our criticizing ways if humanity is to reach its potential of harmonious coexistence.
We can do this. Having the same loving Father, we can insist on seeing each other the way God sees each of us — gentle, selfless, patient, teachable, fair-minded — never hard, harsh, self-willed, unreasonable, stubborn. We should contend that we are created in God’s image and likeness, imbibe all those qualities of goodness and then act accordingly. We must affirm that humanity will ultimately yield to its spiritual nature. Certainly, conflict, divisiveness and opposition are not part of God’s plan for His creation!
We can turn our discussions and viewpoints from blame and finger-pointing to prayerful and hopeful ideas and suggestions. The world needs the constructive force of the spiritually, discerning critic. I suspect that to be spiritually discerning, we must pause and seek holy wisdom before we speak and act. We must always ask ourselves, “Will our words and actions help, save and heal?” As we quiet weary, disappointed, disturbed or frightened thoughts and listen for God’s angel messages, we will receive the divine inspiration we seek and hope for and most assuredly will receive good advice.
Abraham Lincoln once said, “He has a right to criticize, who has a heart to heal.”
May we all have a heart to heal ourselves of our destructive, criticizing ways and bring to an angry and troubled world the peace and hope that saves and heals.
Oct 17, 2006 |
by Annette Bridges. © 2006. All rights reserved.
We seem size-obsessed in America. Sometimes we say bigger is better, while other times we argue slim is best. We long for big paychecks and houses, but we love slim waistlines and cell phones. When we want new and fresh ideas, we encourage big thinking. But I suspect many women would agree that when it comes to gifts, “Good things come in small packages!”
Perhaps size does indeed matter.
However, when one considers the Scriptural story of the shepherd boy David in his battle against the Philistine warrior Goliath, bodily size was of no consequence to the outcome. In fact, one could say David’s victory over Goliath was in spite of Goliath’s enormous physical proportions (1 Samuel 17:23-50).
Then in another biblical setting, when tax collector Zacchaeus, a “wee little man,” according to the children’s rhyme, was trying to get a glimpse of Jesus, his small stature didn’t stop him. He simply climbed up into a sycamore tree to get a better point of view (Luke 19:2-9).
Both examples teach me valuable lessons about size. In the David and Goliath story, it wasn’t physical size that mattered but rather the size of David’s faith and courage. And Zacchaeus didn’t use his shortness as an excuse when he had trouble seeing over the heads and shoulders of the crowd before him. Although his physical size was small, his determination and creativity were huge. These stories teach me that no matter how big the problem I face, I must not be too quick to give up — that the size of my hope and persistence must be big to win the day.
Yes, these stories assure me that there are no obstacles too great to overcome. The Apostle Paul offers this same assurance. He asks: “Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword?” Then he answers: “Nay, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him that loved us. For I am persuaded, that neither death, nor life, or angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord” (Romans 8:35-39).
I find much comfort and promise in these words of Paul. Whenever I’ve felt challenged to the point of almost giving up, I’ve reminded myself of the expanse of God’s love for me as his beloved child. This fact brings the reassurance that God’s love is vast, immeasurable and without limits. Knowledge of God’s infinite love transforms and heals — removing and destroying fear. I have found it impossible to feel completely and totally loved by God and afraid at the same time. And many times in my life, when fears were no longer consuming my outlook, healing answers came into view and changed the course of my life.
So I venture to say to anyone, that with an understanding of God’s infinite love embracing and shepherding your every thought and action, there is no hill too steep, no ditch too deep, no distance too far, no trail too long, no river too wide, no hurdle too high, no wave too big, no job too tough, and no problem too difficult. As children of God, we are each equal recipients of a treasure trove of spiritual skills and abilities that equip us to meet and master any “Goliath” and enable us to find the “sycamore tree” that lifts our spirits to a new and higher perception.
What matters most about size is where we place our confidence — the material, transient and changeable or the spiritual, eternal and dependable. Although there may be many theological points to explore and understand, I don’t think any is greater than the breadth, depth and scope of God’s love for each one of us. You can believe in it, trust it and count on it. The size of God’s love is what matters most!
Oct 17, 2006 |
by Annette Bridges. © 2006. All rights reserved.
Even as the airwaves were filled with devastating images of floods, tornadoes and fires, a flood survivor was able to express humor in the midst of his own catastrophe. I was impressed.
He was being interviewed by a television reporter as he stood on the balcony of his second-floor home. His first floor was submerged by a swollen river. The reporter made the statement that this man’s town was completely under water and everyone appeared to have left, except for him. And the man wittily responded, “Yes, my town’s population is now only one.” Never during the conversation was there a sense of doom in his words, tone or appearance. He even described the peacefulness of evenings when he sat out on his balcony. He expressed confidence that he and his wife would recover and rebuild from this destructive rain event. He showed no doubt or dismay.
As I’ve thought again and again about this man, I’ve concluded he knew a truth that was bolstering his spirits and confidence. He must have known the truth of the adage “The darkest hour precedes the dawn.” So much so, in fact, that he convinced me he was already envisioning that dawn. And I was inspired by his joyfulness.
His demeanor reminded me of words from Christ Jesus that my mom has often quoted: “…and your joy no man taketh from you” (John 16:22). My mom also paraphrased those words into the instruction “Let nothing take your joy from you.” And nothing can take our joy, because joy is indeed God-given. It can’t be lost or taken away. God-given joy is powerful and healing. I was certain this dear man must also have known this spiritual fact and was already experiencing the restorative effects of joy in his darkest of days.
Who hasn’t experienced blessings from life changes that follow an adversity? Much is to be gained amid these struggles, and only our depressed vision can keep us from seeing what can be gained. I’m not in denial of the bad stuff. But I do believe seeing the brighter side enables us to find the good that lifts us out of the bad. Paul said it this way in his epistle to the Romans, “Be not overcome of evil, but overcome evil with good” (Romans 12:21). This tells me acknowledging the presence of God’s love and power right in the face of discord will enable me to indeed overcome evil with the power of God’s law of good.
Our five senses are not enough to get us through life successfully. We also need to use our sixth sense — our sense of humor — as a way to view the world that surrounds us and often troubles us. And I’ve found that our seventh sense — our spiritual sense — helps me put into practice my sense of humor, while giving me confidence that better days are within reach.
Being spiritually lighthearted means placing the burdens of life where they belong — on the shoulders of our Father-Mother God, who truly does make all burdens light by pointing us upward and making our days bright with infinite possibilities. God wants only good for His precious children and will lead us to the dry ground where we can continue our journey with sure footing. In the words of the Psalmist, “…when my heart is overwhelmed; lead me to the rock that is higher than I” (Psalms 61:2). And God will lead us, as I believe he is apparently leading the man with the flooded house.
Nothing saps our energy more than the time and focus we put into coping with life’s problems. I’ve found that humor can lighten our burdens and help us keep things in perspective. Laughter can enable a person to look at a problem from a different point of view and make the problem seem less formidable. Consequently, this lighter view provides opportunities for greater objectivity and insight. Yes, humor can adjust the meaning of an event so that it is not so overwhelming. In fact, humor can help reveal that small things are not the earthshaking events they sometimes seem to be. I’ve found this to be true myself many times, helping me turn my anger at something my hubby said or did into laughter.
Interestingly enough, I only recently learned there was such a thing as laughter therapy. Apparently, a number of medical studies are concluding that laughter just may be the best medicine. Many studies say that a good, hearty laugh can reduce stress, decrease pain, lower blood pressure, elevate mood, boost the immune system, increase job performance, protect the heart, connect people emotionally, foster instant relaxation, dissolve anger, give hope and make you feel good — as well as provide the glue for a good marriage. Most studies agree that by loosening up a bit, we can undo some of the stress we face in our everyday lives.
Perhaps as we laugh to lighten our own burdens, we also lighten those of everyone we meet. After witnessing one man’s lightheartedness in the midst of his struggles, I found that my own sadness and frustrations from dealing with problems and challenges were replaced with the ability to see a brighter side that is now moving me in a direction toward positive change and healing. So I will do my best to remember that even in the most difficult of times, a laugh, or even simply a smile, can go a long way in helping us, and others, to feel better.
