No Comparison – Wednesday in the Word

There’s no comparison. Everyday chocolate bars do not come close to the flavor and texture of the more expensive choices now readily available on the grocery store shelves. In fact, I will go on record saying I believe the only acceptable use of the everyday chocolate bars is for making s’mores. Mixed with graham crackers and a melting marshmallow, the less expensive chocolate bars suffice.

Yes, I’m a chocolate snob. Candy bars are one thing. They can be made with the lower quality chocolate because they’re a CANDY bar. It’s not about the chocolate. But if I’m eating chocolate, it’s going to be the good stuff. Even the off-brand good stuff is better than the everyday stuff.

When my boys were growing up, I got them the good stuff once. My oldest son maintained there was no difference in quality between the two types of chocolate. Needless to say, I didn’t buy him the good stuff anymore. If he didn’t recognize the difference, there was no need to spend extra. My middle son, however, immediately commented on the difference. I don’t buy him cheap chocolate. (Please understand, my oldest was not penalized. He preferred other candies anyway, and I bought him those instead. He did not miss out.)

Once I had a taste for the good stuff, I couldn’t enjoy cheap chocolate any longer. It tasted flat and grainy. There was no smoothness, and the flavor just didn’t match up. It wasn’t as bad as eating chocolate flavored candy (yuck!), but it didn’t bring the pleasure chocolate should bring.

As I read through Philippians chapter three today, I couldn’t help thinking about my chocolate preferences.

The main idea of the chapter can be found in verses seven through eleven. “But whatever things were gain to me, those things I have counted as loss for the sake of Christ. More than that, I count all things to be loss in view of the surpassing value of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whom I have suffered the loss of all things, and count them but rubbish that I may gain Christ, and may be found in Him not having a righteousness of my own derived from the Law, but that which is through faith in Christ, the righteousness which comes from God on the basis of faith, that I may know Him and the power of His resurrection and the fellowship of His sufferings, being conformed to His death; in order that I may attain to the resurrection from the dead.”

The first two verses, the beginning to “that I may gain Christ”, sums up the idea. What I once held as important, I now think as lowly as garbage compared to knowing Jesus. Nothing else even comes close. There is nothing earthly I can chase that is even a close facsimile of what it is to know Jesus.

Knowing Jesus. And it’s not simply knowing about Him. It’s not even simply accepting Him as my savior. It’s having my life conformed to His. Knowing Him intimately. That includes trusting that the power that raised Him from the dead lives in me, being knit together with Him through shared sufferings, and dying to self and sin as completely as He physically died on the cross.

I can remember the last time I had cheap chocolate. It was Christmas. I took one bite, and I gave the rest to my husband. There was no comparison, and I wasn’t going to pretend there was. Before that, it’d been years since I even tried to eat it. The best is so much better. Why would I give in to a cheap counterfeit?

Spiritually, I’ve had the best too. There is nothing on this earth that I can chase to even come close to an intimate, personal relationship with Jesus. Without a doubt, I know this is true. I’ve experienced it.

But still I struggle. I allow other things to steal my attention from spending time with God.

“I’ll do this now, and I’ll have my quiet time later.”

Only at the end of the day, later is conspicuously absent. Sure, I’ve prayed through the day. Maybe even praised. But I missed another opportunity to sit down with God and really listen to what He has to say to me, to draw closer to Him. To know Him more.

Trials come my way, and instead of looking to Jesus and taking strength and comfort knowing He’s going to grow me in faith through the fire, I balk. I struggle and cry out against the thing Jesus can use to help me understand Him better and make my reflection look a little more like His. Not that we ever enjoy facing those things. It’s okay to hurt. Wanting it to pass quickly is not wrong. But there are times I focus on me and the pain so much that I forget to keep my eyes on Him.

The cheap counterfeit calls to me from every direction, telling me I need to chase this one thing, and I follow like I’m chasing the best. In my heart, I know it’s not. Not even close. But I pursue the things self desires for comfort, security, and confirmation of who I am and my worth instead of holding on to the truth that those things come from God alone. And every time I do, I allow self to live just a little bit longer.

I want to want Philippians 3 to define my life. I pray that God continues His work in me to bring me to that place. That one day, the imitation will be more unappealing than cheap chocolate and only Jesus, the best of the best, will do. After all, there is no comparison. What about you?