I’ve heard it several times: comparison is the thief of joy. But there’s another lesson in there.

Imagine five chairs. In those five chairs sit five people. Each person comes from a different walk of life. Each person comes from their own point of pain.

In chair number one sits A, a woman raised by a single mother, with no real father figure in the picture. She’s never experienced a daddy/daughter dance, no father to scare the bad boys away, no one to walk her down the aisle. All of these missed experiences and her personality have led her to make choices that someone with a father would never have made.

In the second chair sits B. He had a father present who he wished had disappeared like A’s dad. His own dad was an abusive alcoholic who forgot what pain he inflicted the night before. His personality and experiences led him to make choices most people with good parents would never have made.

In the third chair sits C. She had wonderful parents who loved her, cared for her, and saw to her every need. But they don’t know that her uncle molested her when she was a child. They don’t know that the experience along with her personality have weighed on her and caused her to withdraw.

In the fourth chair sits D. He has wonderful parents who loved him, cared for him, and saw to his every need. But he just lost his younger brother to cancer. They don’t understand that losing his brother along with changes to his personality have weighed on him and caused him to withdraw.

In the last chair sits E. She had wonderful parents, hasn’t lost any loved ones, is married to a wonderful man, has her own beautiful children. But she just lost her job due to downsizing. She is loud, boisterous, and annoying and no one knows she’s like that to hide her fear.

Each one of these chairs holds a person with pain. The human condition is to look at each of those chairs and compare stories to see who to feel sorry for. In your mind, there’s one that stands out as the most sorrowful and one that stands out as a whiner. Each person reading this will find the one that they connect to the most (because that’s what we do, typically. We look for common ground.) And some will even create a scale of hurt from least to greatest.

The problem is that we are so focused on the chair (their pain) that we forget to see the people. Comparison isn’t just the thief of joy, it’s also the thief of compassion.

Jesus gave us two commands: love God, love people. When we look at Jesus’ ministry, we see that while He acknowledged their situation, He always spoke to the person’s heart. We need to be careful that in following Jesus and His commands, we don’t become blinded to the hearts because of the situation.

It’s too easy to look at one and say “THAT’S what you’re hurt by?!” Because we’ve experienced something we think is “worse” or “more devastating” we pshaw the wounded soul in front of us.

Pain is pain the same way sin is sin. As in, there are no degrees or levels. A’s pain is as valid as E’s pain. B’s pain is as valid as D’s pain. C’s pain is as valid as A’s pain. Each one of those people, with their own strengths and weaknesses, is dealing with experiences that truly caused them pain. Who am I to say their pain is inconsequential? Who do I think I am to minimalize or marginalize their pain because it doesn’t match up to my version of pain?

As a Christ follower I cannot do that. If I am to love God and love people, I have to let go of comparison. I certainly do not want it to steal my joy. But more than that, I abhor the thought of comparison stealing my compassion. We live in a broken world, ruled by comparison. But His ways are not our ways and we need to be lining up with Him. If we don’t, we will lose the wounded souls before us, in their individual chairs of pain.