Growing up in the church I had enough head knowledge about Christianity to be dangerous.  I would say I was a sinner, and confess just enough to feel good about the fact that I confessed. I had always been taught that Jesus loved me. But somehow, somewhere deep down, I believed that I had to be “good enough”. I believed that I had to earn God’s love.

Dark wood dining table, white couches, mint details. Old windows frame perfect wedding pictures. Burlap pillows sit invitingly in a window seat.

I am invited in, and while I smile at my friend, I find myself staring at that ugly word within me: Jealousy