Something Sweet with Susan

Over the last 12 weeks, five holidays have come and gone. As I scrolled through social media during each one—Easter, Mother’s Day, Memorial Day, Father’s Day, and Independence Day—I found myself reflecting on something we all know but easily forget: comparison is the thief of joy.

It all started with Easter Sunday family pictures.  I grew up in an era when everyone dressed up for church in their “Sunday best.”  As Easter approached, my mother would make me a new dress.  We’d shop for white patent leather shoes, a new purse, and sometimes even a pair of white gloves. Back then, if we took family photos, we had to wait for them to be developed.  Nothing was instant, and there certainly wasn’t a way to share our pictures with hundreds of people in a single click.

Social media changed that.  It’s now filled with beautiful family traditions—people dressed up, attending church, enjoying big meals together.  And while the pictures look perfect, they don’t show the heartaches, challenges, or messy realities happening behind the smiles.

The picture of my sons and me at the beach was taken in early April. At the time, I sensed that it represented a story that would be shared.  It’s taken me three months to fully understand what that story was.  My boys live on opposite coasts, and it’s rare for the three of us to be in the same place at the same time.  That photo—it’s far from perfect.  No filters, no edits—just a real, unguarded moment.  On the surface, it may look like a carefree mother-son beach day, but the truth behind that weekend was deeply personal and emotionally heavy.

Still, I was happy. This momma’s heart was full.

When I posted the photo, the comments rolled in—friends referring to it as our “mother/sons vacation.”  And yes, there were fun moments.  But what people couldn’t see was the weight that came with it.

So what’s the point?  How does this all tie together?

A photo captures a single moment in time.  It doesn’t reveal the full story.  When I looked at Mother’s Day posts, I saw a young lady smiling in one picture who’s struggling with infertility, and another of a friend who had lost her son just a week before.  The smiles don’t always match the reality.

This is where social media becomes dangerous: when we compare our lives to these curated snapshots. It’s easy to believe that everyone else has the perfect family, marriage, home, or life.  But struggles are universal—they just don’t always make it into the frame.

That beach photo with my sons? It wasn’t picture-perfect, and neither is my life. But it was real, and it was beautiful. That moment, heavy and all, was still filled with gratitude. Not despite my circumstances—but because of them. My heart, still beating. My hands, still able to hold theirs. My spirit, still full of hope.

Chronic illness has taught me this: joy isn’t found in perfection. It’s found in presence. And peace comes when I stop measuring my life by someone else’s highlight reel—and instead, give thanks for what is.

So whether you’re navigating a diagnosis, walking through grief, or simply feeling like your life doesn’t match the filtered perfection of what you see online—remember: God sees your whole story, not just the frame. And He calls us to rejoice, even here.

If you’re not intentional with your mindset, social media can quietly chip away at your joy.  Please remember — comparison is the thief of joy.

“Rejoice in the Lord always.  I will say it again: Rejoice!  Let your gentleness be evident to all.  The Lord is near.  Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your request to God.”
Philippians 4:4-6