Hey Reader!

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I have a lovely confession to make.

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I am happy.

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The Lord has done some significant healing in my life over the past few years. He has stripped away a lot of the things I have clung to, and that stripping has been beautiful, actually.

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I used to be so proud of the big church I attended (and I loved it so much), but now as I look back on that pride, I see some parts of me that were enamored with its bigness--bigness of impact, bigness of ministries, bigness of being able to give.

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But now I am finding joy in smaller things. The impact of one conversation with a friend. The quietness of obedience, knowing only the Lord knows. The ministry of presence. The absence of stages.

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I am seldom standing on stages these days, and that is a peaceful place to be. I am finding happiness in unseen things. And I am so grateful for the folks God is peopling my life with. They are the iron sharpening iron. They are those who walk with me through strife and disappointment. They are the ones whose conversations challenge me and bring me closer to Jesus.

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I am happy.

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I am grateful.

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I pray you are, too.

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...

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Below is one of my Lenten art paintings. I think it's one of my favorites, even though it's simple.

“I am oppressed and needy. O God hurry to me. You are my helper and my deliverer O Lord, do not delay.” Psalm 70:5

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This is one of those dissonant paintings where the cheery wallpaper does not match the scripture. But often times, that’s what life is like—a maddening mixture of beauty and angst.

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Nevertheless, God knows our neediness. He sees our oppression. As we reach out to him, he helps us. He delivers us from trials and heartache.

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The psalmist reminds God not to delay. And oh do I hear that. When I’m in the midst of pain, I want relief now. But as I look back on God’s timing (even when he seemed slooooooow), I see his wisdom in the waiting room.

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What are you asking God for today?

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Way:

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(NOTE: this article came from my new Substack account. If you'd like this kind of long form essay content on a weekly basis, you can subscribe here).

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The Lord has lately been speaking to me about envy—my own, of course. As I look back on my life, I am beset with envy. One memory stands out. I am in the sixth grade, and I lack the “correct” clothing to fit in. Theirs is an entirely different clothing ecosystem, and as a newcomer, I am woefully underprepared for the fashion demands of the new place.

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I envy.

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I envy what the girls are wearing, what they’ve done to their hair (and puzzled how I would ever get mine to comply), and how self-assured everyone seems. They know the rules of their little kingdom, and they meticulously follow them. Me? The rules are known, but unspoken, so I make mistake after mistake.

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Envy enough and I’ll finally fit in, that is, if I can persuade my mom to buy the right jeans. But until then? Envy.

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Envy is wanting what someone else has, and it’s not pretty. I still battle it, and I’m sad that I do.

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But how does it relate to the modern American church?

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Today I want to unpack this powerful verse: “For where you have envy and selfish ambition, there you find disorder and every evil practice” (James 3:16).

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Perhaps the troubles we’re having with church these days (scandal after scandal, falling leaders, overemphasis on metrics, a lack of discipleship) has to do with simple envy.

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We want what another leader has.

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His church is bigger than ours. So we are dissatisfied with the church God has entrusted to us.

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Her ministry is more impactful (seemingly), so we strive to pull more levers, try more tactics, hire more coaches so we can have a similar or surpassing impact.

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Take note of how James parallels envy and ambition. When they are exercised together, you have the formula for toxicity. Marry ambition with your envy, and disorder and evil practices follow.

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Perhaps that’s what is happening today.

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We are enamored with big: big ministries, salaries, followings, impact, platforms. And in order to grow in those areas, we have to become ambitious. In our climb to the next level of greatness, we step over those we are called to shepherd. People become a means to our ambitious end.

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And suddenly that pure desire to love others and teach them becomes this: I want my personal kingdom, and I want it to be better than those other people’s.

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The problem is—envy is ravenous. It is unsatisfied with enough. It always wants more.

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In the case of my sixth grade clothing conundrum, once I started buying the right denim, I then realized I needed to purchase the correct tops, too. And the right shoes. And the popular clips for my hair. Giving into my envy opened the door to more longing, more money spent, and still I never quite felt like I fit in.

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In ministry, this looks like building-building-building an empire and never slowing down to enjoy what was built. It means isolating yourself from people so you can grow more followers. It means chasing after the next greatest sermon illustration (or stealing sermons/messages altogether) in order to be the best/greatest/most successful.

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Three things/groups lose in this scenario:

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Your heart. Fame and glory-chasing emaciates the soul. Isolation breeds distance from the Lord. No matter how much you chase the next ministry carrot, you will not catch it, and your heart will suffer. You’ll convince yourself that the goal, once seemingly reached, will fill you clear up. But it won’t. So you’ll jump on the treadmill again, only to reach the next goal and keep going. Because that other person you’re envying is enjoying success, and you’re convinced you just need to try harder to eclipse them.

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Your family. When you chase after what others have, you miss the opportunity to love the family around you. They become obstacles to your success, detriments. They feel your resentment, and that resentment injures the relationship.

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Your Church. Those you are ministering to are no longer are human beings to you. They become illustrations to boost your ego as you preach. Or they are pawns in empire building, a means to an egotistical end. They are a commodity to grasp, not a community to love.

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Envy is not a fruit of the Spirit—it is the outworking of the flesh. It is telling God that you are discontent, that he has not provided your needs in the way you want him to. At its core, envy is selfishness.

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And it’s selfishness when we exercise it in ministry. Because church and ministry should never be married with our ambition. It is not becoming.

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We simply need to look to Jesus and how he ministered. So often he told others not to proclaim him. Instead of building a platform, he shrunk away to the wilderness to hear the voice of the One who really mattered. “Though he was God, he did not think of equality with God as something to cling to. Instead, he gave up his divine privileges; he took the humble position of a slave and was born as a human being. When he appeared in human form, he humbled himself in obedience to God and died a criminal’s death on a cross” (Philippians 2:6-8).

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He built the kingdom through humility, not envy.

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His platform was a cross.

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His positioning was servanthood.

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His greatness was his surrender.

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Ours should be the same.

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God is not impressed with our big buildings, budgets, and platforms. He loves our contentment and faithful obedience when no one looks or applauds. He does not bless our envious efforts. He sees right through them.

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Hopefully we’ll all come to a place of realizing that chasing other people’s wins is a losing battle and contentment is a beautiful hallmark of maturity.

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That’s my prayer today.

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Play

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For those who need a little joy, this flowery, 8x8 print is for sale on my Etsy shop. May it encourage you!

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Here's an affordable frame I found for 8 x 8 prints (with mat) on Amazon.

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Pray

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Jesus, please bring companionship to my friend Reader today and usher in safe community who loves well. Help Reader find happiness in quiet places. When Reader experiences envy this week, would you gently encourage contentment? Refuel Reader when Reader feels weary and wary. Bring laughter this week, I pray. Amen.

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You're a delight, Reader!
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Happily,

Mary

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