You VS. Others

I was listening to the radio with my sister today while driving to the mall. K-love just finished playing a love-song about Jesus ("I love you for you."), then a lady came on and began talking. 

"Don't compare yourself to others. You see other moms doing this and that, and it makes feel you are a terrible mom.  You shouldn't compare yourself to them because God loves you for who you are."

Those weren't her exact words, but they are fairly close. It sounds good and encouraging on the surface. God doesn't want us to compare ourselves to others, right? Then it hit me why those sort of messages always make me cringe a little. Listen to the underlying message.

"Don't compare yourself to others because it makes you feel bad. You feel you don't look as good as they do. Don't worry. You are fine just the way you are! You are just as good as them.  There is no need to change, and don't let anyone tell you different!"

And what's the problem?    People are not the standard. 

But we're not comparing ourselves to anyone anymore.

Yes, but why aren't you? Because you've already decided that you are just as good as they are.

Is it okay to be just the same as everyone else? Don't you think we're missing something staying "just the way we are"? 

You see, God is the standard. That is why we don't compare ourselves to others--not because it makes us feel bad--or good for that matter. In Romans Paul addresses this problem: "What then? are we better than they? No, in no wise: for we have before proved both Jews and Gentiles, that they are all under sin; As it is written, There is none righteous, no, not one."

When we measure ourselves up to God's standard, we will always come up short, but we shouldn't let this discourage us from trying to reach it. On the contrary, it should motivate us to try harder. We shouldn't be content to stay in the same place forever. Our faith should be growing. We need to bear fruit like it says in John 15:2, "He [God] cuts off every branch in me [Jesus] that bears no fruit, while every branch that does bear fruit He prunes so that it will be even more fruitful." 

Now I'm not saying that we can do anything to earn God's love. God does love you the way you are. Obeying all His commandments perfectly can't make Him love us more. There is a familiar verse in John that says, "Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends." And in Romans 5:7-8  it says, "For one will hardly die for a righteous man; though perhaps for the good man someone would dare even to die. But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us." (Emphasis added)  If He loved us that much while we were dead in sin, no amount of righteous deeds can make Him love us more. This shouldn't make us complacent. No indeed, it should inspire us to do all we can to please Him.

In conclusion, don't compare yourself to others. Not because you've already got it made, but because God is the real standard.  Yes, God loves you how you are, but let His love inspire you to grow more like Him everyday.

I'll end with another verse from John 15. This is Jesus speaking both encouragement and warning: "I am the vine; you are the branches. If you remain in me and I in you, you will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing."

Parsley

As school is starting up and many people are having to write papers once more, I thought it fitting to post one of my science reports from a few years ago.
 
WAIT! COME BACK!
 
I know I just said the dreaded words "Science Report", but if you just trust me and read on, I believe you will agree that this is not just any old dry, dusty report. It has life. It has spark. It actually rather stretching it to call it a report. :) Enough praise. On to the report.


 

Parsley

By Melody Beerbower, 2010

I was sitting at a fancy dinner party one day when, glancing at my plate, I noticed a piece of green plant with curly lettuce-like leaves beside my meat.  Am I supposed to eat that? I wondered, not relishing the thought; for, I must admit, I am not particularly fond of green plants.  But, having been taught to eat all the food on my plate, I gingerly picked it up with my fork, eyed it, placed it into my mouth, and chewed – instantly, I started gagging from its slightly bitter taste, but I managed to swallow it with the help of a glass of water.  After I had controlled my choking and gained my composure, I faced the table and realized no one else was eating their plant.  I lost my composure again.  Did I just nearly choke to death for nothing?  Then a disturbing thought crossed my mind: What was it I had eaten anyway.  Could it be poison?   I felt pains in my stomach. 

Suddenly I desperately needed to know what I had eaten.  I nudged my friend who sat beside me.  “What is that green plant by your fish head?” I whispered.

“Green plant?  Oh, you mean the parsley!?”

“Parsley!” I exclaimed.  “I thought parsley was the dried stuff you bought from the store and used to flavor soup!”  To my embarrassment I realized I had spoken aloud, and everyone was staring at me. 

“Parsley,” my friend explained in a superior voice, “has to grow into a plant before you can dry it.”  I blushed deep red.  “There are over thirty varieties of parsley,” he continued.  “The kind with the curly leaves, like the section on my plate,  is the most common kind.  You were right, however, it is an herb – most often dried, but also known as a vegetable rich in vitamins A and B, though it is eaten in such small proportions it doesn’t affect your health.  It is also, as you can see, use to garnish meals.  My suggestion to you is to buy a package of seeds and plant them.”

That’s exactly what I did, after I floundered through the rest of the meal, using the wrong forks and getting my manners all mixed up.  That was the first and last time I ever went to a fancy party.    Instead I went home and studied parsley – finding many fascinating things such as: parsley grows from the core outward which is what makes it look like a bush.  I also started a parsley farm, overcoming the bitter taste of the parsley so much that it is the main part of my diet now.  It’s only green plant I’ll eat.   You may think it’s weird, but I bet my vitamin A and B level is much better than yours.  I guess I have come a long way since my initial taste of parsley.  Now I line all my dishes of food with it and even use it in flower arrangements.

On Clever Writing

I recently read a book called Three Men in a Boat. (To say nothing of  the Dog) by Jerome K. Jerome. (His parents were so original with his name.)  This highly amusing book made me laugh out loud several times. It even made my older sister laugh out loud when she read it. That must mean it's funny.  And I don't mean lol-you-may-have-just-cracked-a-smile-or-perhaps-let-out-an-amused-snort laughing out loud. I mean tears-running-down-your-face, wouldn't-want-to-read-this-book-in-public-for-fear-of-looking-like-you're-crazy laughing out loud.

I read another of his books which is a compilation of some essay-type writings.  They too were funny. I decided I would like to try to write something copying his style of writing, so I did. I don't know how well I accomplished that, but it was fun to write.  You should definitely NOT judge his books by this next piece of writing I'm going to share. 

On Clever Writing

By Melody Beerbower, March 22, 2012

    Often I feel like writing something clever, but whenever I sit down and decide, "I think I shall write something clever today." nothing comes to mind.

    However, when I'm snuggled down in bed with the covers wrapped cozily about me, my mind wanders and I think up the cleverest things. They make me chuckle and I think I should like to write them down-- only my bed is too warm and I haven't any paper and pencil handy. So I leave it till morning. As a precaution I replay the words in my head -over and over- even picturing how they would look on paper.  I drift off to sleep and my dreams are filled with it. It winds it's way in and out of them in the strangest fashion.

   When I awake in the morning I have a haunting feeling that there is something I've forgotten, and that I had imagined something very clever last night, but I can't quite grasp it.

   Well, that's the way it goes with dreams.  I remember one time I had the most enjoyable and fantastic dream.  I was quite excited by it. When I awoke I lay with my eyes closed, replaying the most interesting parts in my head. I reviewed everything very closely so as to make sure I would remember it. Then I opened my eyes. 

  Have you ever noticed how the sophisticated  light of day vanishes all the fancies of the night? Try as hard as I might to conjure up my dream all I could produce was a vague impression of danger and romance and a chase and some great sacrifice on my part. Who or what I had sacrificed myself for I do not know, but it must have been something noble because I felt so grand inside.

   Now bedtime is not the only time Cleverness strikes.  It often happens at such convenient times like when I'm sitting in the car wishing I had brought along some bit of paper and a pencil to jot down my ingenious ideas. Of course had I brought them, my mind would be blank and my paper merely covered in doodles.

   Often it sneaks up on me when I'm talking,or rather listening, to a particularly dull person. And I'm paying more attention to how the end of their mountainous nose bobs up and down as they speak, or how they have a stray piece of dandruff below their hair line, and have made a rather half-hearted attempt at applying their makeup today. The person generally is too busy talking to notice I'm not paying attention, and I'm too busy not paying attention --being caught up in all my clever musings-- to notice how remarkable it is he hasn't noticed yet.

  And so cleverness comes and goes...and some are more clever than others to capture it and put it down on paper.

This is me sitting on our chicken coop writing a song called "An Awkward Day", which I may or may not post depending on my gumption. (And yes, I'm wearing red pants.)

The Marching of Time

I was going to post this yesterday, but I could not find my notebook, which is a common occurrence since I have many notebooks to keep track of. 

Speaking of which, I have not been able to find one of my notebooks for, well, I guess it's been two years now.  It was sad because that was my notebook I had written some of my early songs in. I could still remember some of them, but not all. I searched our bedroom several times, but to no avail.  I had given it up as lost. 

Today my brother came up to me and said, "I have something that will make you very happy."  I wondered what it could be.  Out from behind his back he brought a book covered in pictures of vegetables and garden tools. I did not allow my hopes to get up yet because my sisters have books that look exactly the same.  However when he told me where he found it, I knew it must be mine.  He found it in an old purse that my sister crocheted for me a long time ago. It has been hanging in our bedroom for a long time.  I never even thought to look in it.  Not only was that book in there, but also my diary that I started in 2009 that I though was lost forever.  I have no idea why he was looking in there, but needless to say this time he was not reprimanded for snooping! 

My notebook with this next piece of writing in it was found today, so I now can post it.

The Marching of Time

It is strange, almost amazing, how time slips by, so silently at times that we do not notice its passage.  You can just sit and do nothing, and time slips methodically by, second by second.  You can get up and run a marathon, and time still time slips methodically by, second by second.  Neither being active or inactive changes the speed of time.  It seems to, but in reality it does not.

You can sit down and watch time slip by, bringing closer and closer a dreaded event, or pushing farther and farther a cherished memory. 

There are moments when Time seems cruel, as it slowly drains away and leaves us to face decisions that can no longer be ignored.  Cruel, also, when someone's time runs out; their breath stops and time bothers them no longer.

There are moments when Time is a joyous thing, bringing close joyful occasions, and the healing or fading of past hurts and painful memories.

Time marches on.  Once it has gone no one can call it back.  No one can reclaim the wasted moments, the hasty words spoken in anger, the one bad judgement that seems to bring the world crashing down, nor change the passing of a loved one.  All we can do is gather the pieces and move forward with the time left us, making the most of every moment, looking over our shoulders only to learn from past mistakes, or thank God for His many blessing and provisions.

Time is marching on.  You can't change the past- how will you change the future?