Not only did she have the perfect kitchen, but she also spent time chronicling her life, in great and artistic detail, with pictures and notes. She did adventurous things with her children. Her resources and abilities seemed endless, and she walked in the fear of the Lord.
After reading her blog posts and drinking in her lovely pictures, I concluded this woman must have the perfect life. I stopped subscribing to her blog because I realized how my heart tempted me to indulge in a bit of envy and coveting after reading her posts. Simply put, I was jealous.
This is the key here. I concluded she had a perfect life. My heart tempted me to sin. She never said, "Here I am. Look at my children and my big kitchen and my organized home. I am the perfect woman with the perfect life." I was interpreting her posts through covetous eyes, and that will distort an image every time, leaving me in bondage to my sin instead of free to delight in God's goodness to others.
What About the Pictures?
There's a current trend of thought that says if I'm busy taking pictures, I must not be living life. I should put my camera down and be in the moment and stop causing discontentment in other women by sharing my photos. False assumptions are made about shutterbugs, that we live to impress, that we don't believe an experience has been real unless we have a picture of it, that we stage our lives, making pretty virtual realities to cover real lives that are neglected and in shambles.
I don't believe the motives of most shutterbugs are so shallow and sinister. When I capture pictures of my family, it's because I am in the moment and I value that moment, and my heart wants to share that moment with others and glorify God because of His provision of that moment. It's been said that we write to taste life twice, and I would say that I take pictures to taste life and God's goodness over and over.
When a friend shares her amazing close-ups of God's creation or the flowers her husband gave her for her birthday, I soak in the beauty, and I rejoice in God's goodness. When a friend shares a photo of her handiwork, I marvel at what God made us to do, to create in amazing ways, and I rejoice with her. When a friend shares a photo of her newly organized pantry, I'm inspired and motivated.
We All Have Our Weak Points
So why couldn't I do the same when I'd read this particular blog? Because I didn't know her, and she had many things I longed for and could easily make an idol of--a bigger home, a more organized life.
Just fill in those things that our hearts are fashioning into idols, and we'll discover why our vision is distorted, and we're so cynical about the accomplishments or blessings of others.
It's My Heart
It's not Pinterest or Facebook or pretty blogs or pictures of someone's perfect kitchen that are the problem. It's how my idol-making heart processes them. Too often...
My heart assumes the worst and assigns ill motives to others.
My heart covets.
My heart envies.
My heart fails to rejoice with those who rejoice.
My heart seeks satisfaction in these things instead of in Christ.
Do We Run?
Scripture exhorts us repeatedly to flee from temptation. We're not to play around with it, and see how much we can resist. We're to be on guard and not trust ourselves. It's foolishness to set ourselves in temptation's way as a means to train ourselves in godliness. So, should we run from Pinterest and Facebook and pretty blogs?
Yes and no.
We should be redeeming the time and guarding our hearts. If perusing Pinterest and using Facebook and reading blogs is not a profitable use of our time (and each person must answer that for herself) and we're allowing them to promote and feed sin in our lives, then we pluck out the eye that offends us.
But if we make life lovelier for those around us from the ideas on Pinterest, if we delight in the connections on Facebook, and we're encouraged as we read certain blogs, then we use them for God's glory, not to one-up each another or feed our idols. We remember to start with our own hearts if discontentment creeps in, and thank God for His faithfulness in making us more like Christ by revealing to us our sin.
My Duty
That woman who had the perfect kitchen? Well, I later discovered her life fell apart. Was she a fake? No. She was sharing the beautiful things in her life, with no obligation to me to tell me where the seams were fraying. Perhaps her blog was a means of preserving the lovely in the midst of the painful and ugly.
I'll never know.
What I can know is that I'm responsible for my heart when I visit these places, and I'm responsible to guard it, be kind, full of grace, rejoicing with those who rejoice, and delighting in God's goodness to others. And I'm responsible to know when to walk away, if that's necessary.
My duty is to remember that perfection is often relative (what might be a "perfect" kitchen or home to me won't be for you), and when I unkindly tag someone with that label because I'm green with envy, when I accuse others of making me discontent or unhappy, I'm shifting blame, and I'm revealing more about my own heart than I am about another's on-line presence of pixels and words.
With love,
Trisha



























