I’m jealous of you. Not all the time, but this time of year especially. When I go in the stores with all of the things I want, you come to mind.
You’ve got a bigger house with lots of rooms to decorate and have space for the cool things I’d like to have in my house.
You have more money to remodel the way I’d like to since my house isn’t bigger.
Your husband has a job that pays more that allows you to work less without financial stress.
You have a higher metabolism that allows you to eat more this time of year without putting on weight.
Your legs are skinny and long and look great in those leggings, sweaters, and boots I’d love to wear if I was thin and had money, like you do, to buy them.
You get to vacation this winter when we’re stuck here because you have the time and money to do those cool things.
Your skin looks better and you just have more of what I want.
You go to the church I’d like to go to if we lived in a bigger city.
You’re husband is talented with things I have to figure out on my own.
You have newer cars and buy your kids newer cars than the year-old things we drive, and rust buckets our kids have.
You always buy new. I’d like to do that.
So I’m jealous of you.
And it distracts me.
It distracts me from the home I have which is big and is all we need.
From the contentment I feel when I know God provided, again.
From the peace I feel obeying God, trusting that He’ll some how provide.
From the memories we make using the same household items, over and over again.
From the joy I feel when I’m okay with myself and know I’m taking care of my body.
From the security my kids feel being in a church where everyone knows them.
From the need to be in prayer about things I can’t just fix with the swipe of a credit card.
From the praise I give when Jesus is truly my all.
Forgive me, friend, for being jealous of you.
I don’t know what you’re jealous of. I don’t know your fear, struggles, or distractions from Jesus. I don’t know what you’d like of mine that I take for granted. I don’t know what it’s like to walk in your shoes.
Forgive me, Father, for allowing the materialism of this season to grab a hold of me. For wanting what You haven’t given me, and for being distracted from your goodness.
Forgive me for discounting the truth that all things pass away, but You never will.
Forgive me, Father, for taking my eyes off of you.
Because, Friend, when my eyes are on Him, I don’t see the things you have that I don’t. I don’t notice things like I do when the world clouds my view. I just see you as someone I love, and I’m content with the things, non-things, and life I have.
Thank you, Jesus, for refocusing my priorities, for recalibrating my thoughts, for taking the feelings away that are of the enemy, not You.
Teach me, Father, to be jealous for You and for the things you desire.
Make this holiday season a new season to see You, and you alone.
Dear friend, will you join me? So, together, we can bring Him to the world the enemy is trying to destroy.