Comparison is a lethal trap for women. Sizing up another woman leads either to pride that I’m better in some way or to self-loathing that I’m inferior in one or many ways. Neither is good for our souls. The words “my lot” in this my favorite of all hymns presuppose the kind, benevolent rule of a King who does all things in love. It also assumes that the circumstances of our lives are in His wise, capable hands. Therefore my family of origin, your precise DNA, each woman’s individual flaws are given with intentionality. As a painfully shy teenager I often looked at other girls who were outgoing and popular and wished I could be more like them. My comparison of myself to others continued into college and then marriage. One day, decades later, I had this sudden realization, whispered by the Holy Spirit I’m sure, that my shyness that felt like a burden and a great weakness was the gift that protected me from being swept away into drinking, drugs, and immorality so common in that generation had I been carefree and part of the popular crowd. My tendency to compare didn’t evaporate, but I became more aware of God’s using what feels bad to me for His greater good. My lot in life has also included difficulties beyond shyness that seemed impossible to survive. But again, the question remains, “Who has ultimate control?” Answer: The same God who, in time, brings good to those who love Him out of any tragedy. In 1871, Horatio Spafford lost many investment properties in the Great Chicago fire. Two years later he planned to join D.L. Moody in England and booked tickets on a ship for himself and his family. At the last minute he delayed his own voyage because of business and sent his wife and four daughters on ahead. On the voyage across the Atlantic the ship was struck by another vessel. The ship sank and took the lives of all four of his daughters. His wife Anna was rescued, unconscious and floating on a piece of wood. Horatio sailed to England to join his wife. When he passed the area where his daughters had perished, he wrote the words to the hymn, "It Is Well With My Soul."
The Gift of Challenges
The Gift of Challenges
The Gift of Challenges
Comparison is a lethal trap for women. Sizing up another woman leads either to pride that I’m better in some way or to self-loathing that I’m inferior in one or many ways. Neither is good for our souls. The words “my lot” in this my favorite of all hymns presuppose the kind, benevolent rule of a King who does all things in love. It also assumes that the circumstances of our lives are in His wise, capable hands. Therefore my family of origin, your precise DNA, each woman’s individual flaws are given with intentionality. As a painfully shy teenager I often looked at other girls who were outgoing and popular and wished I could be more like them. My comparison of myself to others continued into college and then marriage. One day, decades later, I had this sudden realization, whispered by the Holy Spirit I’m sure, that my shyness that felt like a burden and a great weakness was the gift that protected me from being swept away into drinking, drugs, and immorality so common in that generation had I been carefree and part of the popular crowd. My tendency to compare didn’t evaporate, but I became more aware of God’s using what feels bad to me for His greater good. My lot in life has also included difficulties beyond shyness that seemed impossible to survive. But again, the question remains, “Who has ultimate control?” Answer: The same God who, in time, brings good to those who love Him out of any tragedy. In 1871, Horatio Spafford lost many investment properties in the Great Chicago fire. Two years later he planned to join D.L. Moody in England and booked tickets on a ship for himself and his family. At the last minute he delayed his own voyage because of business and sent his wife and four daughters on ahead. On the voyage across the Atlantic the ship was struck by another vessel. The ship sank and took the lives of all four of his daughters. His wife Anna was rescued, unconscious and floating on a piece of wood. Horatio sailed to England to join his wife. When he passed the area where his daughters had perished, he wrote the words to the hymn, "It Is Well With My Soul."