Grace to Share

I knew the minute I walked in the door that I was in trouble. It sat in the middle of the kitchen table, shiny and perfect, mocking me. The slices were each exactly the same width. The spices, distributed evenly throughout, added to the beauty. It was a jar of pickled zucchini. The young woman who was mistress of this house knew what she was doing. Her chickens were handsome and plump. She had a garden the likes of which I would only ever dream of. She was getting ready to take her children and their animals (yes, more than just chickens. She had goats!) to the fair. She was the quintessential Proverbs 31 woman.

I am not. When God was handing out domestic skills, he gave all of mine to my sister. She cans. She preserves. She dehydrates. She gardens. She raises poultry of various species and breeds. She can tell you the difference between hard necked garlic (or stiff necked or whatever you call it) and the other kind. She’s beautiful and knowledgeable and kind. She’s amazing. In the story of the country mouse and the city mouse, she’s the country mouse.

I’m the city mouse. I can cook, but it’s mostly throwing stuff together, never measuring nor following a recipe. She gets all the spices right for the nationality of the dish, in the right proportions, and it’s always beautiful. I can shop. I can order takeout, and tell you the health department rating of the restaurant we’re eating at. I garden, if you count the one cucumber plant on my little apartment deck.

Compared to my sister, I am inadequate for everything. Compared to the amazing woman who pickled the zucchini, I don’t measure up. My canning never seals. My freezer jam never sets. My garden doesn’t grow. Compared to the other amazing women I know, I just don’t cut it.

The problem is, I’m comparing. I see you at your best, and I know my worst. As a result I feel devalued before I start, defeated before I even know what I was supposed to be doing.

“He knows the secrets of the heart.” Psalm 44:21

He knows my secrets. He knows yours. And he’s not comparing. He knew all of our inadequacies, and he loved us anyway. More than that, as if we needed more, he calls us Beloved. We are precious in his sight. We can stop feeling inadequate, stop comparing ourselves, stop feeling insecure, and rest.

“Let the beloved of the Lord rest secure in him, for he shields him all day long, and the one the Lord loves rests between his shoulders.” Deut. 33:12

When I walked into the pickled zucchini house, I was at a get-together for some women at my church. I almost didn’t go. I didn’t know the lady whose house it was. Why would she want me there? I didn’t have anything to wear. I’m fat. I’m tired. You know the litany of stuff we say to ourselves in our heads. Then I got lost. I could see the house where I was pretty sure I was going, but couldn’t figure out how to get there. I saw two women in a car who looked like they knew where they were going and followed them. When I got out to the main road, there were bright orange signs that God had put out to make sure I didn’t miss the way; “Detour to your street here!” I drove up, 20 minutes late, and almost turned around and just came home. Instead, I got out of my car, and all my insecurities melted away. NOT. I saw the jar of zucchini.

I made a choice. I chose to set my insecurities aside and go in and see what God had in store. I could practically hear him whispering in my ear, “You’re going to like this!” I spent the next hour and a half laughing and sharing and getting to know a lovely, kind, funny, inspiring group of women. If I had let my insecurity win, I’d have missed out on that.

We all have that voice in our head that tells us we are inadequate. It is the voice of Satan. He’s telling us the truth; that we don’t measure up, that we don’t deserve God’s love. But it’s a half truth. God loves us. We are precious in his sight. He has given us the gift of other people to join with in friendship, for our own good and their good. Don’t buy into the lie of insecurity. Step out, knowing that you are covered with the love of Jesus, and have grace to share.