It happened. I was caught totally off guard. Any enemy? Maybe. But in my wildest dreams, I never imagined envying someone I admire.

I mean, yes, everybody has ups and downs, don’t they? There are bumps on the road, and we all struggle to achieve our dreams, goals, and wants. We have those special people in life that we look to for inspiration, for leadership, for guidance. We call them up. We hang out with them. We try so hard to peek in their show-me-how-you-did-it bag of tricks they carry around. No matter if we’re farmers, homemakers, engineers, writers, teachers, or Youtubers, there are undoubtably those model people already doing what we aspire to do—and they are doing it well.

And then, in the most unexpected moment, my eyes turned green.

I caught myself envying.

Now before you head off, surfing to another blog in pleasant places, let me ask the question: Am I the only one who has battled the green-eyed monster of envy?

I think we all can testify. Somewhere down the road we’ve felt it. A twinge deep in our gut. An uncomfortableness in the presence of someone else. Our mind, telling us: Oh, please. That’s nothing. I can do that too. We have that feeling of inner discontentment, the desire and longing that urges inside us for what another has. We look around, wishing for what we could do, have, or be, all while it’s already expressed or represented by another individual.

And it hurts.

I suppose that sometimes I open my doors and windows too far. But I do it in the hope that I may reach some, turning you from life hang-ups and pointing you to truth. So please, humor me. Let me be transparent.

I have been editing a manuscript for over two years. You may know I’ve already published books. But this one seems different. Bigger. A purpose worth waiting for. With time, the manuscript keeps changing. It keeps progressing. It’s much better now, polished. I typed the first line on November 28, 2020. I won’t reveal any spoilers yet, but the novel has changed me, my outlook on life, and the way I process things. I’ve learned so much since starting it. Because of it, I’ve worked my tail off, doing everything to see this dream through. I’ve been to writing conferences. I’ve met incredible people, giving them permission to speak into me and the work that I’m trying to birth. High caliber writing professionals. Top-notch industry experts. I’ve made writing friends all over the country—even overseas. Talked to those who have already done it. The book will happen. Through perseverance and hard work, one day this manuscript will be printed.

I have dreams. You have dreams. We all have dreams.

And yet, I saw another. One I respect. Who recently published another book. All while mine is still in editing. Years of work.

Ordinarily, I would be thrilled for my writer friend. A super congrats! A high-five from the rooftops. But with so much being done in the trenches on my own work in progress, I was caught in a great fault. Of all things—envy—crept its ugliness up from the dark places it hides in, attempting to swallow me.

And that’s not how it’s supposed to work.

Cecil Murphey is most noted for the book 90 minutes in Heaven, which he cowrote with Don Piper. In many ways Cecil helped get me off the ground floor, making my pie-in-the-sky dream of being a writer a tangible reality. His guidance is remarkable. His sage advice exactly what I need. He has shaped the way I think about the purpose, craft, and the reason for writing unlike any other author. I am so thankful for him.

And in my email inbox, I saw his newsletter: A simple, short, to the point post about how he battled with jealousy as a writer. It stopped me in my tracks. A gift. A beautiful gift from God. A beautiful, amazing gift from God that told me I wasn’t alone. That I was human. My thoughts drifted: Even established writers face it? Christian ones? Writers like Cecil Murphey? I couldn’t believe what I was reading.

But we can’t stop there. As maturing Christians, we need to grow. And when envy or jealousy strikes us like a hidden viper, we’ve got to brush off the snake bite and ask God to deal with the poison. Nobody moves forward by sitting still. I was no exception. Thankfully, Cecil shared with me how God helped him deal with it. You can sign up for his newsletter here if you wish. Great stuff. I won’t steal his thunder.

For me, my action was paramount. I needed to stop everything—even taking a break today from my editing—to address the green toxin that was running through my veins and ruining my fruit. How could I achieve my calling, my vision, and do my ministry with such a setback? I needed to get my heart right. Because it’s important to acknowledge when God gives us a gift. To thank Him. And do something with it.

Yes, we all want to be there. Established. High caliber. A top tier in the field we serve or work in. We want to be the best. We want to be effective. We want to be skilled. We want to . . . you can fill in the blank. But we also cannot let envy steal that dream away from us. Trust me, it will.

Envy will consume you, rendering you ineffective. You have a dream? Envy will ruin it. It’s ironic, but envy can potentially work against you, doing the exact opposite of what you desire or wish for, if we let it. Do you want to be a good athlete? Envy will make you a poor one. A good coworker? Envy will make you look selfish. Even good things can be used for evil when envy gets ahold of it. Something as simple as wanting to be a good friend will turn sour when envy is involved. The dichotomies are endless.

Thank God there is a solution.

Ephesians 4:29 gives us a perfect tip.

“Let no corrupting talk come out of your mouths, but only such as is good for building up, as fits the occasion, that it may give grace to those who hear.”

When we speak truth and life—even when it’s not fun—the medicine of God’s Word will not only bless the hearer but also take care of the poisonous envy inside of us.

And so, I congratulated the author I admire. I realized that we are all on the same team. Our words, pages, and stories need shared with a hurting world. God will be glorified with what gets published. Someday, my book will be printed, and it will be my turn to share hope and purpose. Until then, I’ll champion others doing it along the way.

And you know what happened?

I’m smiling now. It feels good.

And I think I’ll go buy the book.

By Chuck Carr.