the thief

“Comparison is the thief of joy.” 

Usually, when I hear those words, I think about how our happiness diminishes when we compare ourselves with others. How we look at other people’s lives—whether on our phone screens or out in the real world—and wish we had what they have. But lately, I’ve been thinking about a different sort of comparison. 

I fill my life with so many shoulds and shouldn’ts. Here are just a few: 

I shouldn’t yell at my kids.

I should be able to plot out this book by now. 

I shouldn’t leave piles of laundry all over my house. 

I should be more patient. 

I shouldn’t be so anxious. 

I should be better at marketing my books. 

I shouldn’t be so hard on myself. 

This list could go on and on. 

What’s at the core of all these beliefs? That life should be different than it is at this precise moment in time. That I should be different. With all these shoulds and shouldn’ts, I compare potential versions of myself with who I am right now. These comparisons take what is real and true and throw it out the window for a reality that doesn’t quite exist. 

These sneaky little comparisons truly are thieves. They show up in subtle ways, slowly chipping away at our confidence and stealing away any happiness that’s available to us in the act of becoming.

Our Father in Heaven wants us to change. He knows we live in a fallen world full of complications and weakness. But even though He wants more for us, He doesn’t look at who we are or where we are and shake His head. He doesn’t expect us to transform overnight, and He would never wish away this season of struggle.

I imagine that God sees us on some sort of spectrum, some continuing eternal scale that is grand enough to hold all of our possibilities all at once. He watches us move up and down the spectrum, sometimes multiple times a day, and He actively helps us move in the direction that is closest to Him. He doesn’t use this spectrum to compare yesterday with today or today with tomorrow.

He wants us to stop staring at ourselves in the mirror and start looking at His Son, who loves us exactly as we are right now—perfectly. And it is through that love that our comparisons, to ourselves and to each other, melt away. Because they just don’t matter nearly as much as we thought they did. 

Our Savior wants us to live a life made of hope, not one of obligation and fear. He wants to banish that thief known as comparison. He wants us to hand over our shoulds and shouldn’ts; He wants to transform our never-ending lists of self-improvement into something better: 

One day my kids and I will learn to communicate better. 

I am learning how to write this new story. 

Laundry will always pile up, but eventually, it gets put away. 

I don’t need to be impatient about practicing patience. 

It’s okay to feel everything. 

My business will grow at the rate it's supposed to. 

If I want to be more kind, I will start with myself. 

Doesn’t that new list feel like the deepest exhale? 

Doesn’t it feel like joy?