Comparison: Elizabeth's Example -Lauren Copeland

“At that time Mary got ready and hurried to a town in the hill country of Judea, where she entered Zechariah’s home and greeted Elizabeth. When Elizabeth heard Mary’s greeting, the baby leaped in her womb, and Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit. In a loud voice she exclaimed: “Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the child you will bear! But why am I so favored, that the mother of my Lord should come to me? As soon as the sound of your greeting reached my ears, the baby in my womb leaped for joy. Blessed is she who has believed that the Lord would fulfill his promises to her!””

— Luke 1:39-45

A SEA OF COMPARISON

A big part of me desperately hoped that becoming a mama would be overwhelmingly fulfilling. That it would be like walking through a magic door, shedding old habits of comparison, self-focus, and self-doubt on the way through. I’ve struggled with these sinful postures since adolescence but wish more than anything that I didn’t. Surely I wouldn’t have room for petty, prideful, envious judgments of others when I was busy living out the calling of motherhood. Right? Instead, just five months into the calling, I find myself confronted with the fact that my old habits haven’t gone away. They’re just as consuming as they ever have been; they just look different in this new season.

I hear that a friend’s husband surprised her last night with a babysitter, sweeping her off her feet for a date at a fancy uptown restaurant. My minds wanders back to the last date night I had, which was weeks ago and ended with me picking up a crying baby from my parents’ house an hour into the date.  On social media, I see yet another photo of one mama’s little boy who is always pictured as the happiest baby ever. Always with a huge grin sprawled across on his sweet face. My mind wanders to my baby who often cries in the hands of family members and friends, leaving me swimming with grief through the feeling that my baby will be labeled as a “fussy” one by loved ones. Grieving that they don’t get to see the sweet, content the side of her that I do.A mama friend tells me over lunch how she has lost every pound of baby weight and then some just three months post-partum. My mind wanders to the yoga pants that I begrudgingly peeled off for this very lunch date, just to barely squeeze into my pre-baby jeans at five months post-partum.

Why doesn’t my husband show his affection for me more often? Why doesn’t my baby meet my expectations or “perform” when I want her to? Why doesn’t my body look anything like it used to? 

Drowning in comparisons, I lose all of my joy. I find that I have reduced motherhood and marriage to values, things to be evaluated and measured up next to others. On top of the weight of the envy I feel, I recognize that I am playing the comparison game and the guilt is heavy for it. I know the truth that God has blessed me with a sweet marriage, a precious baby girl, and a healthy body. Yet, the sea of comparisons that is constantly swirling in my head still leaves me wanting. I am too consumed to truly appreciate what is in front of me.

ANOTHER WAY

In Luke 1:39-45, Elizabeth shows me that there might be another way. She had every reason to measure herself up against Mary. Every reason to be envious. Every reason to drown in a sea of comparisons, too. But Elizabeth does not respond to Mary’s arrival by giving her the “once over,” judging her pregnancy out of wedlock. Elizabeth does not hold onto the pain of years of barrenness in the face of her friend’s fertility. She does not grumble about carrying a child in old age while her friend enjoys pregnancy in youth. Why?

Instead of envy, Elizabeth is filled with the Holy Spirit. Through the Spirit, she responds by embracing her friend with pure joy. As John MacArthur’s Bible Commentary describes, “Elizabeth’s grasp of the situation was extraordinary... She greeted Mary not with skepticism but joy. She understood… She seemed to comprehend the immense importance… All of this must be attributed to the illuminating work of the Spirit.”

CELEBRATION OVER COMPARISON

Elizabeth fully recognizes Mary’s blessing and even goes so far as to celebrate, encouraging her friend passionately and genuinely. “Blessed are you among women,” she tells Mary excitedly and in a loud voice. Elizabeth chooses to share in Mary’s joy instead of seething with jealousy over Mary’s blessings by comparing them to her own.

Elizabeth’s perspective leads her to worship God for the work He was doing through Mary. Never mind that her baby is basically going to be a servant to Mary’s baby. She worships God for His provision of a Savior through her friend Mary. She trusts in God’s plan completely and humbly accepts that God has cast her uniquely for her role as John’s mother and Mary’s friend - not the other way around. She embraces the circumstances gladly and joyfully, and in doing so, she is delivered from comparison and envy.

 When I allow it to take root, comparison warps my perspective. In comparing my marriage and motherhood journey to others’, I am left unable to appreciate the blessings God has given me. I lose sight of the unique roles God has cast for me. I miss it all because I am too busy fixating on what I see God giving to others. When I focus on my story instead of God’s story, I lose the opportunity to rejoice at His provision.

 

ENCOURAGEMENT OVER ENVY

Elizabeth understood her role in God’s plan for Redemption. She knew God had a plan for her and a plan for Mary. His plans for each woman were different. His blessings for each were different. But the understanding of the larger story of which they were both a part, enabled her to foster friendship with Mary and gave her encouragement to embrace the task God gave uniquely to her. His glory was more important than her own.

Rather than comparing ourselves to and judging fellow mamas, let us be encouraged and challenged to see where God is at work as Elizabeth did. Let it lead us to celebrate rather than compare. Let it lead us to encourage rather than envy.

 No one else is your child’s mama or your husband’s wife. God cast us each uniquely. Let us embrace the roles God has chosen for us to accomplish his purposes, and encourage others in the roles he’s given to them. Let us be delivered from envy and comparison as we are humbled by the fact that he uses us at all.

 

 

QUESTIONS FOR REFLECTION/ APPLICATION:

1. Who in your world are you most tempted to compare yourself to? When are you most tempted to compare? 
2. How does seeing God's sovereignty over the characters in the Christmas story free you from that comparison and move you to rejoicing? Where is he using you? How has he uniquely gifted you to love your husband and children as only you can?
3. Think back to that person you compare yourself with. How can you affirm them where you see God at work in their life? How can you celebrate the way he is using them? How can you encourage them in their task?

Lauren is a Jesus-loving wife to Garrett and first-time mama to a 6 month old baby girl named Scarlett. She is a former elementary school teacher turned full-time wife and mama. She enjoys writing educational curriculum part-time when she can squeeze it in during nap times. You can find some of that curriculum here.

SACRED SERVICE -Jen Wilkin

“Then the righteous will answer him, saying, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you drink? And when did we see you a stranger and welcome you, or naked and clothe you? And when did we see you sick or in prison and visit you?’And the King will answer them, ‘Truly, I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of these my brothers, you did it to me.’”

— Matthew 25:37-40

December means Advent, and at the Wilkin house that means reading nightly from our traditional Advent book. Each page contains a door that opens onto a scene from the Christmas story - twenty five doors, twenty five days to Christmas. Behind the first three doors of this beautiful book lies the retelling of the Annunciation, and immediately I am drawn into the story. A teen-aged Hebrew girl learns from an angel that she will miraculously give birth to God in the flesh. Mary's response? “Behold, I am the servant of the Lord; let it be to me according to your word.” Nothing about this story is typical.

The record of what unfolds next for Mary is mind-boggling in its own right – we open the doors of our Advent book to see Elizabeth’s confirmation of the angel’s words, Joseph’s response, the actual birth of the child – but ever since the birth of my own children the quieter details of Mary’s maternal role have stirred my curiosity. The gospels do not tell us much about Jesus’ earliest years, those years during which any mother is consumed with the care of her child. Surely Mary encountered all of the typical weariness, worry, work and wonderment of raising a little one. The doors to these everyday scenes are closed to us.

Was raising the Christ-child a typical experience of motherhood? It's hard to imagine that it was. Even the ordinary would have touched the extraordinary. Think about this: Mary was charged with caring for the very body that would one day be broken for her. Her hands bathed and clothed him, her breasts satisfied his hunger, her lips kissed his skinned elbows, her arms embraced him, her voice soothed him to sleep. In the simple everyday tasks of motherhood, Mary ministered to the very body of the long-expected Savior. Even her most basic acts of mothering were sacred.

That's not a normal experience of motherhood. Or is it?

In Matthew 25:31-45 Jesus speaks of the day in which the righteous will be separated from the unrighteous according to their deeds. The righteous act selflessly to minister to those in need: shelter for the shelterless, food for the hungry, drink for the thirsty, clothing for the naked, help for the sick, compassion for the friendless. Jesus indicates that when we meet the most basic needs of those around us we show forth the reality of our changed hearts. But He says we do more than that. He tells us that when we do these things for others, it is as though we have done them directly for him. This is a pivotal realization for us: when a love for our Savior motivates us to serve others, our most basic acts become sacred acts - as if we had done them for Christ himself.

I am in the process of raising four children. Weariness, worry, work, wonderment. If you opened a door on our lives, you'd find typical scenes: disorder barely confined to the closets and second floor, daily trips to the grocery store (bananas, bread, milk), dirty clothes draping every surface of the laundry room. It feels like someone is always hungry, sick, cranky, or out of clean socks. It is my job as the mom to address these conditions, and I may not always show up to work with a smile on my face.

But if what Jesus says is true, these basic mothering acts are some of the most sacred of all - shelter for the shelterless, food for the hungry, clothing for the naked. As if I have done them for Christ himself.

I don’t share much in common with Mary.  I have great kids, but I can say with some confidence that none of them is a sinless Son of God.  But by meeting their everyday needs out of a love for that Son, I share in some indirect way in the profound mystery Mary knew of ministering to the physical body of her Savior. Even my most basic acts of mothering become sacred.

 “Behold, I am the servant of the Lord.” Such an insightful response to the calling of motherhood. A teen-aged girl could see it. Oh, that I might see it as well - that I might recognize the object of my service as Christ himself, that I might reckon the tasks of mothering not as work but as worship, not as an aggravation but as an altar, not as drudgery but as my dearest delight in service to my Savior. Oh, that sacred service might dwell continually and joyfully behind the door of my home.

QUESTIONS FOR REFLECTION/APPLICATION:

1. How does the coming and the example of Jesus, who came not to be served but to serve, dignify our service as mothers?

2. How can we practically remember that the object of our service is Christ himself? How does this perspective empower us when those that we serve don't provide the recognition we desire?

Jen Wilkin is a wife, a mom to 4 great kids, and an advocate for women to love God with their minds through the faithful study of His Word. She writes, speaks, and teaches women the Bible. Her family calls The Village Church home. Jen is the author of Women of the Word and None Like Him.

This post was used with Jen's gracious permission, but originally appeared under the title “The Ministry of Mary” on December 14, 2011 on Jen’s personal blog: The Beginning of Wisdom. (link: http://jenwilkin.blogspot.com/2011/12/ministry-of-mary.html )

OUR GREATEST ANSWER -Maggie Yelton

“Long ago, at many times and in many ways, God spoke to our fathers by the prophets, but in these last days he has spoken to us by his Son, whom he appointed the heir of all things, through whom also he created the world.”

— Hebrews 1:1-2

“Mommy, why do trees grow? Mommy, why does it rain? Mommy, where does the rain come from? Mommy, who made the sky? Mommy, how did God make the sky? Mommy, where is God? Mommy, how is God everywhere at once? Mommy, why can’t i see Him…how do I know He’s there…how can He hear me…How does he love me?” 

I don’t know. 

My three year old has a way of asking and asking until my own heart wonders. In the face of his questions that go all the way from plants to God, my own doubt starts to creep in. 

He gets it honest. It’s never taken much for me to doubt. 

When my son was a few months old, I suddenly lost my beloved Mimi. Mimi was my grandmother, but she also helped raise me. She taught me what mothering looks like. She was the one I went to with all my “whys”. She was my rock. She understood me. She was my safe place when the world was scary, and I sat in her lap until I was 27 years old. My person, when I needed her most, was gone.

Why was she taken so suddenly? Why now? How am I going to be Mommy without her? How will I live the rest of this life without her?

Eight short months passed, and I tragically lost my Mama. After years of fighting depression, she had given up. 

I thought my own heart would die inside my chest. 

Why did she do this? What could I have done differently? Why didn’t I answer her phone call the night before she died? How did I miss so many clues? Why did it happen like this? Why couldn’t we get to her sooner? How will I get through this without Mimi? How will I ever, ever be “okay” again? How will I function day to day? Who will ever love me as much as Mama did? How will this affect my relationships? My marriage? My mothering? 

When most people my age were having babies and having their mamas play a huge role in their life, mine was gone. 

I was drowning in a sea of “whys”, but the Lord did not leave me there. He revealed Himself. 

“The secret things belong to the Lord our God, but the things revealed belong to us and to our children forever, that we may follow all the words of this law.” (Deuteronomy 29:29)

This is what is revealed to us: to us a Son was given. Hebrews tells us that he is the full and final revelation of God to us on earth. All we need to know. He grew and lived a perfect life. He took our sin upon His shoulders so that we could be righteous and redeemed (1 Peter 2:24). He sits at the right hand of God and is One with God (Luke 22:69). He is our Wonderful Counselor, Everlasting Father, and our Prince of Peace (Isaiah 9:6).

This time of year brings back a flood of memories. Some memories are magical, but they now echo a sense of devastating loss. Something I had is gone forever. Grief will wash over me like a wave, and in those moments all the “secret things”, the unanswered whys, the unfinished conversations consume my mind. A recurring thought and feeling I have when these waves hit is, “You have been left alone. You are different because of this. No one will ever love you like that again. You are orphaned. You wont know how to be a good mother.”

I have learned that when grief hits me, I need to embrace it and weep, but also tell myself truth at the same time. This is what Paul talks about in Romans 12:2 when he says to, “be transformed by the renewing of your mind.” I don't have to stay stuck in the “secret things,” whys, and lies. I can renew my mind with what has already been revealed through Christ. 

I was focused on getting answers to things that may not ever be revealed in this lifetime. I thought that if I could figure it all out, then I could have peace. But God himself revealed to me through the life and death of Jesus, covers a multitude of earthly sorrow and questions (1 Peter 4:8, 1 John 4:18). He is the greatest answer I need.  I have Christ, who will never leave me (Deuteronomy 31:6). He has no end (Daniel 7:14). He loves me perfectly, and knows the very number of hairs on my head (Luke 12:7). He is a Father to the orphan (Psalm 68:5-6). Because Jesus is intimately involved in my suffering, my suffering can be redeemed. I am different than I was before…I’m being refined into a Greater image (Romans 5:3-4, James 1:2-4).

I am able to love my husband and son well, through the power of the spirit moment to moment, day to day. God has given me precious earthly gifts in people and “mothers” that love us. My son has been provided a grandmother on my side of the family in “Bee”, my Mama’s sister. Grace upon grace has been bestowed to us. But even without earthly blessings, He is still enough. 

 My hope and joy are linked with all that has been revealed. Through “a Son given,” I have an Everlasting Parent with Everlasting Love. This world is not our end, and one day we will be with our loved ones in Christ, fully redeemed. Until then, we have Christ with us, revealing Himself over and over again. We are not left alone.  Emmanuel, the Son is with us!

 The Son revealed is our greatest answer and the only revelation we need!

 

QUESTIONS FOR APPLICATION/ REFLECTION:

1. What are some of the big "whys" you are most frustrated by? When are you most prone to following the rabbit trail of these thoughts?
2. Isaiah 55 says that God keeps those in perfect peace whose minds are stayed on him. How does dwelling on the Son given (the things revealed) put our anxious questions to rest?
3. How does this devo help you understand how to teach our children to deal with their questions and doubts? (I don't know that... but I do know ____ ).

Maggie Yelton is a wife to a landscaper who knows the name of literally every plant, and the mommy of a 4 year old boy who knows the name of literally every kind of heavy machinery. She is a professional photographer, a true southern girl, a master at hair volumizing, and a deep thinker on a quest for the bottom of everything (from Grey's Anatomy answers to existential questions). She is passionate about the study of God's word and living in authentic community. You can usually find her skipping rocks on the river with her guys at dusk. Follow her on instagram or visit her website to view some of her work.

A NAME TO REMIND US -Tresta Payne

“So all this was done that it might be fulfilled which was spoken by the Lord through the prophet, saying: “Behold, the virgin shall be with child, and bear a Son, and they shall call His name Immanuel,” which is translated, “God with us.” ”

— Matthew 1:22-23

Three times I have been “with child”, and a fourth child required reams of paper, a year of hoop-jumping, and 7,500 miles of flight to be with. All of them were worth the trouble. All of them came into this world with new trouble, problems of their sin nature and my sin nature and the very nature of the earth they’re composed of. But all of them were worth the trouble.

In those first days of new-motherhood, I remember thinking about the life that was so completely dependent on me. All of a sudden being “with child” meant a child was always with me, which was a wonderful and beautiful and incredibly heavy load for a girl of twenty-two, and I was a little afraid when they just let us take that baby home from the hospital.

How did they know if we knew what we were doing? How could they just leave us alone with her?

This is the way it should be. Motherhood ought to feel like the heavy responsibility it is, but too often it feels like a lonely and thankless job you can never do right. Every mom I’m close with has expressed those fears of doing it wrong, making mistakes that will manifest in their child’s adulthood as a need for therapy and a curse on their mother. Those creeping fears are usually just the enemy's entrance into a mother's heart.

God with us might be the greatest three words to shut the enemy out. We shall be with Child, bear His name, recognize Him as Immanuel, and always strain to hear the echo of an angel’s voice on a dark night.

The whispers of failure don’t stand a chance against the God who is always with us.

Our days as mothers are changing, all of us trying to hold on to a child that is growing outside of us and naturally pulling away to a great big world. We fret and worry and hope and pray that we’re doing it right but we’re not. We are definitely not doing all things well. But God is with us, and the presence of Him always, means a help for us forever.

The covering that I want for all my mistakes in motherhood and life is with me, and I’m with Him.

Advent is His coming, our anticipation. Even more though, it may be our reminder: Christ isn’t arriving—He is here. Our positional relationship with Him is present and past and future. All our time is wrapped in Him and we are called to follow Him, but He is with us.

The Child is with us. God is among His people.

I forget this when I receive the text from my teenager, asking to go here and there. I forget when I’m carefully previewing books and movies and apps and nutrition labels, when I’m wearing myself out with research and concern. I forget that Immanuel, His very name, is a promise to be with us, and I live, instead, like it’s my responsibly to keep life going.

We’re at a new stage of pulling away with our kids now and I still don’t know what I’m doing and I never saw it coming. You could tell a mom daily that the times, they are a changin’, and she’ll wipe the noses and cook the food and wash the clothes and pray the prayers just the same.

Every day is eternal for a mom.

We don’t count them all that way, but we live with a collected memory wrapped up in a child’s face. We live always with the children we bear, forever with child, and the beauty of motherhood is its proximity to eternity. Every time we are literally with child, we are carrying something eternal in us. We nurture eternity in our children when we remind them that the Child is with us—God Himself—who folded Christ into the womb of a woman so we could have this picture of Immanuel.

If you have forgotten that God is Immanuel, with us and in us and for us, then advent is for you. His very being is in being with us and He made a way through a Child. There is nothing you or I will ever face alone, and because we forget that, He was given a name to remind us.

QUESTIONS FOR APPLICATION/ REFLECTION

1. Do you relate to that feeling of your child being always with you? Does the presence of God feel that tangible to you?
2. Think about the last time you felt alone in motherhood... like you were doing everything by yourself or didn't have enough help? What sort of emotions did those thoughts give way to? How might that situation have looked different if you remembered God's presence with you? How might it have looked different if you remembered that his help is available through Christ?
3. Ask God to convince your soul that he is with you and for you today.  In your hard moments and your feelings of failure,  ask him to remind you that he is near and available.

Tresta lives in the Pacific Northwest with her husband and 4 kids, surrounded by mountains and rivers and the best little community one could ask for. Her days are filled with homeschooling, laundry, and trying to find truth, goodness, and beauty in the middle of chaos. Any remaining brain cells are used to put words together at trestapayne.com.

Bringing Us Worth -Abbey Wedgeworth

“But the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid. I bring you good news that will cause great joy for all the people. Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is the Messiah, the Lord. This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger.”

— Luke 2:10-12

Do you remember the feeling of being alone with your baby in your home for the first time? I do. When my mom left and my husband went back to work I panicked a little. The weightiness was severe. This tiny creature was completely dependent upon me. He was completely helpless without me.

our teeny tiny swaddled helpless babe when he was just a few days old

The incarnation is commonly described by the phrase “God became man.” But the Christmas story, the nativity, verse 12 of Luke 2, causes us to pause and remember… God did not just become man… God became a baby. When he took on flesh, the Prince of Heaven, through whom all things were created, who had immeasurable riches and knowledge and power, gave up his ability to control his arms, to wipe his own bottom, and to meet his own needs. 

We all have a desire for significance: to be beautiful, to be seen, to be of worth, to be accepted, and to be loved. And whether we acknowledge it or not, we’re all in a constant search of it. Our desire for significance motivated our career decisions, propelled our quest for our spouses, fueled our desires for children, and today keeps us measuring ourselves and our surroundings against social media, magazines, and each other.

The experience of being a mom cannot fully satisfy this longing for worth and significance… in fact for many of us it only intensifies our feelings of worthlessness and shame. While extraordinarily beautiful, holding the long awaited babe after 9 months of anticipation, like any of our other "if onlys," doesn’t prove to be some magical cure for our abiding ache. Some of the most powerful feelings of rejection I have ever felt were in the early days of my struggle to breastfeed. “What’s wrong with me? I’m his mom. Why doesn’t he want me?” Moms of "threenagers" lay down their lives for their kids only to hear them shout “I don’t like you! I want my daddy” when they don't get their way. And then there's the ever watching public eye. Older women make wounding “observations” or offer “advice” that just feels so unnatural and foreign to who we are.

We fall into bed desperate (especially at the end of the longer feeling days) for someone to look at us and tell us how wonderful we are, how valuable we are, and how wanted we are when often we feel like failures, believe that others are better suited for the task, and get passed over for “daddy.” We will not find the true source of our worth and significance in the words of others, in the goings-on of our homes, or in the contents of our cribs. We will find it wrapped in swaddling clothes, and lying in a manger.

Do you know what you’re worth? You are worth the Prince of heaven forfeiting his throne, his majesty, and perfect fellowship with his father to become a baby; a baby who would grow to be a man, who would suffer and die a horribly painful death so that you could be with him forever. He gave up everything for you. That’s what you’re worth to the creator of the universe. 

QUESTIONS FOR REFLECTION/ APPLICATION:

1. What do you look to for significance and meaning that isn’t Jesus? Who do you long to “see” you, call you valuable, worthy, or wanted?
2. Our worth because of Christ’s coming is easy to assent to intellectually in this moment, but hard to believe when we feel worthless. Practically speaking, how can we remind our souls of this truth? 

Abbey Wedgeworth lives in the SC low country with her handsome husband and their 9 month old baby boy, Will. She is passionate about honesty, discipleship, and biblical literacy. She struggles to maintain hobbies since becoming a mama, among them: baking, sewing, making music, and writing. You can find some of that writing at gentleleading.com . 

The Child That Redeems Motherhood: An Introduction

Over the next 25 days, we're going to take a journey together. On this journey, we're going to take a long hard look at what's hard about motherhood... (tragedy, loss, pain, rejection, fatigue, self doubt, comparison, self loathing, disappointment, boredom, anxiety, fear, hormones, pinterest pressure, family disfunction, and death).

You'll hear from funny moms, new moms, veteran moms, moms who have lost children, moms who are widows, moms who have buried their mamas, moms of adopted kids, moms of multiples, moms of specials needs kids, moms with hard marriages, moms laughing at themselves, and moms who are at their wits end. They are authors, bloggers, insta micro-bloggers, teachers, pastor's wives, ministry professionals, professional photographers, and everyday mamas who only take pictures with bad lighting. They each have different styles, and you may connect more with some than others. But stick with us... each day is packed with truth and goodness and accessibility because these women are just like you.

They are sinful people trying to raise sinful children who are desperately in need of a savior.

The good news of Christmas is, that savior has been provided. And in his birth we see our deliverance from everything sad and hard about our task of raising babies in a fallen world.

It is my great hope that you will be encouraged and strengthened by these devotions. I pray that God would use them to weave threads of truth deeper into your heart and create some peace and understanding where there may be chaos and lies. As you are moved to laughter and tears by the words that you read, I pray that JOY would be the product of your courageous and honest engagement with these topics.

So grab the morning coffee you've reheated 4 times already, grab a friend on social media or by phone, grab your bible, and grab a seat at this conversation table where we explore these good tidings of great joy.

-Abbey Wedgeworth