Doing Life Wrong

You know the feeling.

You’re going along, minding your own business, feeling like all is well. You know–like everything is just *clicking* in your life. You’re where you’re supposed to be, with who you want to be with, doing what you want to be doing, and–best of all–you can feel God all around you.

And then you see her.

The woman who is juggling eight million things and making it look effortless because she is succeeding in all of them. The woman who has the job, the kids, the marriage, the side hustles, the friends, the looks. The woman whose shine dulls those around her, not intentionally, but simply because hers is so bright. The woman who is friendly but not overbearing, busy but never too occupied for her friends, and self-confident but not self-righteous.

The woman is the complete opposite of you.

The woman whose very presence makes you feel as if you are somehow doing life wrong.

And you know it has absolutely nothing to with her. And everything to do with you.

Because there is nothing mean or malicious about this woman. The insecurity you feel around her is just that–insecurity. Because you see all the things she has that you lack.

And that is a tough place to be.

Recently, I was reading in the Book of Luke a familiar story found in chapter 8, where a man who was demon-possessed encountered Jesus in the tombs where he was living. Jesus, being Jesus, cast out the demons, sent them into a herd of pigs, and then the pigs hurled themselves off a cliff and were drowned (see story in Luke 8: 26-39). There’s a lot to dissect in this story but, today, one particular verse stood out to me. It comes near the end where, after the man had been healed, he “begged him [Jesus] earnestly to be with him. But he [Jesus] sent him away and said, ‘Go back to your home….'” (verses 38-39a)

This man whose life had just been changed in a significant and dramatic way begged Jesus “earnestly” to follow Him.

And Jesus said no.

Picture yourself in that man’s shoes. We often think it was just the twelve disciples following Jesus around, but this wasn’t the case. At any given moment, there were dozens if not hundreds of people following Jesus, listening to Him teach and watching Him perform miracles. Not only that, Jesus by His very nature was open and loving; following Him wasn’t exactly an exclusive, VIP-only calling. He was, at all times, surrounded by the sick, the poor, the undesirables, the sinners.

And yet he told this man no.

Talk about a blow.

Now, thankfully, I can’t relate to being demon-possessed, but I can relate to a life-changing encounter with Jesus. He saved me from myself, pulling me from the pit in which I was living. And, despite the many slip-ups I’ve had since, has never let me go.

And yet, I can’t help but look at the things He’s done for other people–such as the woman above–and wonder why He’s given them the things He has…and not me. Especially when it’s things I’ve “earnestly” asked for. I imagine the healed man might have, in the very depth of his being, felt this same thing.

“Jesus, thank you for what you’ve done for me….but how come they get all of that and I don’t?”

It’s a thought that physically pains me. To think of this man watching these other people walk away with Jesus, leaving him behind. These other people who have what he so desperately–“earnestly”–asked for.

But this is why we have to keep reading. Jesus didn’t just tell the man to go home. He told him to “go back home, and tell all that God has done for you.” (verse 39)

Jesus wasn’t telling the man no because He didn’t want him. It wasn’t because the man was unworthy, unloved, or even because he lacked use. In fact, it was the opposite. Jesus had a better job for him to do.

You see, while Jesus was here on earth, He was bound by His physical body. He couldn’t reach everywhere during his short, three-year ministry. Following Him was great…but so was going out and being a witness about all the things He had done–who He was–to those who might not otherwise get to hear it.

What an amazing testimony this man had. From demon-possessed, living among the tombs, to walking, talking physical proof of God’s power come to earth.

This man wasn’t rejected by Jesus. He was set apart by Him. On purpose, for a purpose.

And I think that’s something you–and I–need to remember. When we see those people whose calling and influence seem larger than ours; whose lives cast a shadow that makes ours seem small or insignificant or less than, whether intentionally or not. When our insecurities rear their ugly heads, may we always turn our eyes back toward Jesus. He has made each one of us, with our own strengths and weaknesses, and placed a unique calling in our hearts. Yours may look different from mine, and mine probably looks different from yours.

But neither of us are more significant, more loved, or more blessed by Jesus.

He may have told you–and me–no to certain things.

But He has said yes to things far greater. And those are the things we must focus on.

So, like the healed man, instead of falling into the trap of comparison, let us instead go off, “proclaiming throughout the town how much Jesus had done for [us].” (verse 39b)