Some of us are very good at math, good with numbers. Too good, I think. We use a mental set of measurements and scales for everything. In every social setting, in every personal project, in every conversation or meeting, we pull out our measuring tools.
And we always come up short.
Not good enough. Not smart enough. Not pretty enough. Not conversant enough. Not efficient enough. Throughout the day, we keep measuring, weighing, and at the end of the day, we add it all up. Our sum total.
And it’s never enough.
We fall far short of everything we want to do and be. When all the while, we’re using the wrong set of scales. Someone has slipped in and messed with our mental measuring tools, so that everything we try to weigh up always turns out wrong. We look around and see what society considers beautiful, or successful, or happy. When we adopt those false standards, it’s no wonder that at the end of the day, we’re no closer in our pursuit of happiness than we were the day before. Or the day before that.
There is another scale though. It’s unit of measurement I think we rarely use. Perhaps we’re afraid to use it. Maybe because, like the average woman standing on a weighing scale, we’ve got to strip down to step on the scale.
And that’s scary.
When we take off the coverings, we feel exposed. Vulnerable. And all we see are the blemishes, the parts of ourselves and our nature that we don’t like. But the way the scale reads is this:
You on one side, with everything you don’t like about yourself — faults and fears, mistakes and mess-ups — magnified in the mirror of your mind.
Jesus on the other side, with everything perfect and good — forgiveness and friendship, grace and guidance, light and love — which he offers freely to everyone.
It balances perfectly. Because you are more than what you see and know and feel and fear. You are loved. You are forgiven. You are beautiful.
Lose your set of measurements.
And take on His.