Gratitude as an Antidote to Envy

How many of God's gifts have we left unopened?

Nov 22, 2024

What wisdom and what virtue there is in judging oneself truly and in remaining oneself! You have a part that only you can play; and your business is to play it to perfection, instead of trying to force fortune. Our lives are not interchangeable. Go straight forward, in your own way, with God for [your] guide.

-Sertillanges, The Intellectual Life

*Flowers in a basket and a vase,* Jan Brueghel

I suppose you could say that I’ve always struggled with envy. Okay, maybe not always. My childhood was a carefree, happy one–I had stability, security, and siblings–and for many years, I never thought I had any reason to envy anyone around me. This was, perhaps, one of the gifts of childhood innocence.

Then I became a teenager. I remember carefully studying the faces of celebrities like Jessica Simpson and Jennifer Aniston on magazine covers in the grocery checkout. Why, exactly, were they more beautiful than I was? Ultimately, I determined that it was my nose–I didn’t have a nose like those beautiful women–and oh how I wished I did!

Thankfully, my desire for a different nose didn’t last too long. I chilled out about my nose (or, perhaps, in a moment of maturity, realized that it didn’t matter much), went to college, got married. It wasn’t until about ten years after graduating from high school—when I first got on Instagram—that the envy really came back in force.

Ah, the early days of Instagram. Yes, it was a convenient way to keep up with friends and family, spread across the country (and beyond). But then a new (or, perhaps, new to me) growth emerged, imperceptibly: the world of influencers.

At first, it seemed so harmless: women, just living their lives, snapping and sharing photos with the world: what’s not to love? Slipped in between the posts about pregnancy news or other family updates from people I actually knew in real life, these posts were innocent-looking enough, but I allowed them to plant in my heart seeds of envy. Beautiful kitchens, impeccably styled. Relaxing vacations. Why didn’t I have those things, too? I thought, surrounded by babies–riches beyond price. Envy can be blinding.

I stopped using Instagram regularly about four years ago, and that has been good for me. Now, of course, there’s Substack. Here, I’m not envious of beautiful homes, but beautiful writing. Sometimes it seems to me as though the world is filled with inspired writing, brilliant writers, and so much talent that any pale and feeble attempt of mine at writing seems pitiful and ugly.

Sigh.

Is there no place in the world, or in my own heart, that is free from envy?

*Me, back when I spent too much time envying the homes of women on IG*

I think envy is sinful because it blinds me to the many gifts God has already given to me–to my unique strength and capacities. And if I can’t even see God’s abundant gift-giving, then I most certainly can’t be grateful to Him for all that he has so very generously given to me.

Gratitude, then, is the antidote for envy.

Envy is one of the enemy’s slyest forms of attack, but when we actively and intentionally thank God for all the specific gifts he has showered upon us, envy cannot remain. How can I feel envious of others when I realize that I cannot even name all the ways God has blessed me? The gifts are so numerous, so abundant, that envy would quickly slink away in shame if I took the time to articulate all of God’s individual, personal blessings that he has given just to me.

Looking around me and feeling envious of the talents and gifts God has given my fellow travelers is a bit like a child sitting down on Christmas morning, his arms overflowing with gifts. Packages and boxes of all sizes, beautifully wrapped, are towering high in his lap, next to him, behind him. He is practically buried in gifts, there are so many. Not satisfied with what he has, he looks over at his sister and spies a gift of hers that looks appealing–and begins to cry and complain, saying, “I want that one, too!”

God must weep when he witnesses us foolish mortals, laden with the most beautiful, priceless gifts, still wandering around, crying about the gifts we don’t have. What blindness!

How many of God’s gifts have we left unopened, abandoned? Do we truly believe that God is in the business of giving bad gifts? Thoughtless gifts? Worthless gifts? No. He knows each of us far better than we know ourselves. When will we stop looking longingly at all the gifts everyone around us is opening, and start opening our own?