by Maggie Wallem Rowe

Tell me you haven’t experienced it, too.

You attend that writers conference or watch a publishing awards ceremony online, and those unwanted thoughts arrive faster than flies on an apple pie:

I’ll never be as good a writer as she is.

 Look at all those titles on his book table.

 Maybe I should just quit right now.

Whether you’ve never been published, have a book or two under your belt, or have been practicing your craft for years, it’s hard to escape the comparison trap. As Christian writers, we’re familiar with Paul’s warning to the church at Galatia about paying attention to our own work.

The Message puts it this way:

“Make a careful exploration of who you are and the work you have been given, and then sink yourself into that. Don’t be impressed with yourself. Don’t compare yourself with others. Each of you must take responsibility for doing the creative best you can with your own life.” (Galatians 6:4-5, emphasis mine.)

The comparison trap is often sprung early in life, isn’t it?

That audition for the role in your school play or the seat in the orchestra? You gave it your best but the director chose another. You were up for a job promotion, and it went to someone else.  The leadership position that fit your qualifications to a T as in Too-Perfect? You knew you had it until the next in line got the nod.

How come, right? Why should he or she be chosen when you know you’ve got the talent, the experience, and the  credentials? Were you too young or too old? The wrong color or dress size? Ageism, sexism, racism, partisan politics – all the reasons we get passed over for opportunities. It can be infuriating and unfair.

I still recall the Season Two premiere of the popular TV drama This Is Us. Pearson twin Kate has had a lifelong struggle with weight, but she screws up her courage and marches her quaking self into a vocal audition, only to flee before her number is called.

In the restaurant where her brother Kevin and boyfriend Toby are waiting, Kate admits that she chickened out, only to have the guys argue about whose job it is to comfort or encourage her.

 Kate finally explodes, ”I’m a 37-year-old woman! Idon’t need a man to tell me what I need to do.” Returning to the audition, which is just winding up, Kate insists that they give her a chance even if she is significantly heavier than the other women competing for the lead. Surprised, the director listens as she sings beautifully only to dismiss her after a few measures.

Furious and not about to accept discrimination, Kate launches into a tirade of protest. The director interrupts, asking the backup singer to step forward and cover the same song Kate began. She’s fabulous.

“Do you hear that?” the director says in frustration. “That singer used to be the lead but now she’s backup because she’s not good enough. And neither are you. I could care less about your dress size!”

I’ve been thinking about that episode. It’s tempting to assume that someone else got the gig we want or the book contract we covet because she had inside connections or he has racial privilege. But you know what? Sometimes we don’t get picked simply because we’re not good enough. Not yet, anyway.  Someone else’s talent or skills exceeds ours. And, like Kate, we need to admit that in a competitive world, we can’t all come in first. And that’s OK.

The Apostle Paul recognized that we are all vessels God can use, but our Creator did not make clones. Some of us shine in certain situations while others fill less visible but equally important functions.

In a well-furnished kitchen there are not only crystal goblets and silver platters, but waste cans and compost buckets—some containers used to serve fine meals, others to take out the garbage. Become the kind of container God can use to present any and every kind of gift to his guests for their blessing. 2 Timothy 2: MSG

So maybe we’re not all designed to be Waterford crystal writers, refracting the light and drawing the praise. Maybe sometimes instead we’re the compost bucket – the repository of what others have discarded.

But fancy crystal can be fragile, while that unremarkable compost bucket? Oh, the rich possibilities for fertilizing the lives of others!

–        A portion of this post adapted from This Life We Share by Maggie Wallem Rowe, with permission from NavPress.

Maggie Wallem Rowe is a national speaker, dramatist, and author whose first book, This Life We Share, was a finalist for the 2021 ECPA Christian Book Award in the New Author category. Maggie has also been a TEDx presenter. Her second book, Life is Sweet, Y’all: Wit and Wisdom with A Side of Sass, released from Tyndale House Publishers in 2022. Maggie writes weekly from Peace Ridge, her home in the mountains of North Carolina. MaggieRowe.com.