While talking to a friend the other day and standing eye-to-eye, I was amazed by how tall I am. With her just barely skimming 5 feet in running shoes, I felt all 5’4” of my towering height. I was an Amazon! I considered heading to the basketball goal in our backyard so I could dunk a few. Then my husband, who has around 8 inches on me, came home from work and I realized my error. I am not tall. I am also not short. I am average.

My height was consistent throughout the day, other than those lazy moments when my posture was lacking (Don’t tell my mom!). The only difference was how tall I felt, not how tall I am. This is the danger of comparison. Once our identity or self-evaluation is based solely on others around us, it’s easy to lose our grasp on what’s real.

I encounter this impulse to define myself according to the appearances, attributes, and accomplishments of everybody else way too frequently. When someone shares a new exercise regimen or details about an exciting trip or even just good news, I’m embarrassed to say that there’s often a pause, a brief space, when an unwelcome thought enters into my mind: “What does this mean for me? Should I be eating that or going on vacation there? Is her life considerably better than my life?”

Romans 12:15 gives us this advice: “Be happy with those who are happy, and weep with those who weep. Live in harmony with each other.” This has been the advice I’ve given to my own kids as they’ve watched others get things they wished they could have for themselves. Feelings are sometimes like the wind, arbitrarily blowing in one direction and then the other, but usually not both directions at the same time. In other words, if I’m putting all my heart into rejoicing with and for my friend, there’s less emotions leftover to put towards jealousy and bitterness.

But how can I battle the evils of comparison without living like a recluse in the woods, away from everyone else? (Let’s be honest, I’d probably just develop an inferiority complex with the squirrels or something. I’d be asking, “How do they stay so fit? Should I be eating only acorns and running along tree branches, too?)

There are practical things I can do, like restricting my time on social media, and I do think that can make a big difference, but the habit with longer-lasting effects is to learn who the Great I AM says I am. Scriptures tell me that as a believer, I am adopted and accepted. I am brought to fullness and bought at a great price. I am chosen and a child of God. I am new and known. I am a part of the body of Christ and my body is a temple. I was made by God in His image.

All 5’4” of me is loved and valued, not because of my weight or wealth or wit, but because I am His. In fact, Christ died for me when I was still a sinner, so, no matter how my unreliable feelings fluctuate, I am worthy.