The Poison of Comparison

 

Singaporeans are quite good at complaining. It's almost like a national pastime. But I suspect we have another national obsession that we may not want to admit. Many of us are also very prone to comparing. Unlike complaining though, comparing is less socially acceptable these days, no matter what form it takes. So much of the comparing we do is done quietly in our own heads, or even subconsciously without us realising. We may be happy with our jobs one moment, but when we meet a friend who is earning a better living, a thought enters our heads that maybe we need to make more money. A student may be glad that she received a certain grade, a hard-earned improvement. But the joy may be eroded the moment she finds out that her score is below average. Such is our propensity to compare that the reverse also takes place. We complain about cost of living in Singapore, that everything is so expensive. But the moment we cross the causeway, we spend like no tomorrow and feel like a million dollars.

Like many Singaporeans, I am guilty of such comparison. My youngest has special educational needs, not one, but two. He couldn't even read properly to survive his Math homework at P2 (although dyslexia was ruled out, much to our confusion). Our wish back in lower primary was simply that he just does well enough to move along, and get the necessary education so that he'll be able to support himself in future. We were thankful enough that he got along just fine in a mainstream school. Then during Covid, something changed. He was suddenly able to read on his own and his reading just took off exponentially. A Prof from KKH suddenly wanted to meet us to talk about getting a hearing aid for him after a routine hearing test turned out to be not so routine. They found some response from the supposedly profoundly deaf ear. At that point, we remembered a healing service my wife attended with our youngest several years ago, and just thanked God for the miraculous healing that took place.

With his improved condition, he did better academically as well. And he did well enough to be streamed into a good class at P5. Despite that, we didn’t aim high. All we wished for was that he'd be able to get into a school with a good learning environment, and where he'll be safe from bullies. We were very thankful that he even qualified for a DSA we didn't initially plan for, and got an offer (which we didn't take up because of some discipline incident with my son, but that's another story). We thought it was divine appointment that God wanted him in that school. However, by the time he received his PSLE results, something changed without us realising. Our son was the only one who was happy with his results. He was genuinely happy that he met his own minimum expectations, and that the worst-case scenario didn't happen. We were not happy though, because we felt that he had underperformed, compared to his siblings, compared to so many others who have done so well. I felt that he didn't meet his potential. He could and should have done much better.

I'm not sure when this expectation crept in. One moment, we were full of gratitude for his miraculous healing, the improvement in his learning and the providence of the unexpected DSA. The next moment, I'm suddenly upset with his PSLE score. Never mind that we just sent him for a diagnosis of another potential special need recently to find out what support he needed. He just didn't do so well compared to others, compared to what he could have with his potential.

The Bible warns about the dangers of comparison. The elder brother in the parable of the prodigal son compared himself to his younger brother, and it led to a spirit of contempt. Esau and Jacob compared each other’s strengths and favour with their respective parents, and wanted what the other party had. The outcome was an estranged relationship between the brothers. Rachel and Leah compared what the other had and what they each lacked, and it resulted in a loss of joy, opening the doors to bitterness in their lives. The Israelites compared the manna they got to what they used to eat in Egypt, causing them to forget the miracle of their deliverance, and the whole generation eventually perished in the desert, totally missing the promised land. Cain compared himself with Abel, and it led to murder. 

While the comparison that took place for my youngest’s PSLE results haven’t resulted in any major harm (I hope), it is a timely reminder to be mindful of the poison of comparison. The antidote and vaccine is gratitude and contentment.

“Give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.” (1 Thessalonians 5:18)

And in a way, it also takes humility to accept the role God has ordained for us in our lives.

“Suppose the foot says, “I am not a hand. So I don’t belong to the body.” By saying this, it cannot stop being part of the body. And suppose the ear says, “I am not an eye. So I don’t belong to the body.” By saying this, it cannot stop being part of the body. If the whole body were an eye, how could it hear? If the whole body were an ear, how could it smell? God has placed each part in the body just as he wanted it to be. If all the parts were the same, how could there be a body?” (1 Corinthians 12:15-18)

When the S1 posting results came out, God brought us back a full circle. We tried to put our youngest in a “better” school far away from home, since he qualified for it based on 2023’s posting cut-off. Unfortunately, the cut-off went up this year and he just missed it by a whisker (his HCL was P instead of M). But guess what? He was posted to the DSA school which we turned down earlier! It seems the provision of the DSA was indeed divine appointment. And just in case we were not convinced, God took time to show us in other ways, through the interactions we have had with the school so far, that this is the place where He wants our youngest to be.

God is not just interested in the big stuff, He cares enough to pay attention to the small details in our lives. May we always be thankful and contented, and not fall prey to comparison.