The Chameleon

source

Words from yesterday’s sermon are messing with me in the best and worst of ways.  In fact, there is one word that keeps coming up in a multitude of ways.  Yesterday I heard it again: “Comparison.” 

I see women walk by downtown with their scarves and cute boots and feel inferior. I realize I spend too much time at home and moments I’ve felt stylish have purely been sad attempts at fitting in to a culture I’m rarely a part.  I click on others’ pictures and then feel superior because surely I do a better job.

I see pictures of some people’s houses and wonder why I can’t get it all to go together so flawlessly.  And yet, my pride puffs if someone compliments my house.

I think of times we give and pat myself on the back, feeling superior to those that don’t and yet feel inferior when I hear of big-gives from bigger hearts.

Inferior and superior, I flop back and forth all the time, sometimes with the same person, always measuring.  I don’t do it purposely, seeking out to make myself feel better or someone else worse. I’m not mean-spirited, but when challenged, I see that I do it anyway.  I’m confronted with my own pride and it feels disgusting, making me feel inferior to just about anyone.

The words yesterday challenged me to bring back in the gospel.  Who does God say I am?  What is the race I am to run?  I am responsible for my own steps, my own callings, my own self.  I will be held responsible for the opportunities and gifts that he gave me, not any others.

I am like my daughter, always wanting to find someone to be my side.  I feel God calling me to my own race, one where I might feel lonely and different and yet, one where I won’t feel a need to constantly compare because I’ll be on a path unique to me.

I’ve lived like a chameleon my whole life, always trying to blend into family and friends, to whatever calling they may have.  The thing about chameleons is they have to compare their surroundings to match.  I feel the call to stop.  Say yes to the callings that no one else hears.  Express myself the way I am because that’s what God created me to do.  Live in a home that feels comfort to me because my friends aren’t the ones living with me.  Give because God gave it to me to share, not someone else.

I feel like it should be easy to be myself, but it’s not.  It turns out there isn’t another me to copy.

I’m not a chameleon and neither are you.