It Must Be Nice

Isn’t it funny how often we hear the phrase “It must be nice”?

I can take accountability for saying it myself, and I know many of us have. But most of the time, we wouldn’t say it so easily if we truly paused to consider the depth behind whatever it is we’re assuming.

We stand in our own yards, full of weeds, and look down the street at a perfectly green, freshly mowed lawn. Must be nice to have such a beautiful yard, we think. But did we ever stop to wonder how long it took to get there? How that lawn became as beautiful as it appears today?

Did we ever consider that the house was built brick by brick by owners who once had pennies in their pockets? That the property was caught in a nearby grassfire, leaving every single blade burned to a crisp just five years ago? That the husband who lives there was in a devastating car accident and is now paralyzed from the waist down? That only in the last six months were they finally able to afford a gardener to help maintain the lawn you quietly long for?

Interesting perspective, huh?

And this is just one example.

Because the truth is, this phrase shows up everywhere.

Even though we all know how hard life has been for each of us through grief, financial instability, changes in our bodies, pain, and sacrifice, why do we believe everyone else has always had it easy? Why do we assume they were gifted a life without adversity or challenges? Why do we believe they simply got lucky?

And when that jealousy begins to rise, when comparison quietly creeps in, why do we look outward instead of inward? Why do we sit with resentment when we could pause and gain a bigger perspective? Why do we allow jealousy to take root when we could soften our hearts and realign our vision? And when we find ourselves unable to do that on our own, why do we hesitate to turn to God? Afterall, we are only human.

You see a woman walking down the street and wish you looked like her.

But what you don’t see is that she lost the only person she has ever truly loved. That she hasn’t been eating. That she runs, not for health, but to escape the pain that settles in when she stands still. And that is the body you wish you had.

You see a family of three in church, hands held, heads bowed in prayer, and you wish you had a family like that.

But what you don’t see are the miscarriages they are grieving, the marriage they are desperately trying to save, and a home on the edge of foreclosure. They came to church today for the first time because they are hanging on by their last thread.

You see the CEO of your favorite company pulling away from work at noon in his fancy Porsche without a second thought.

Meanwhile, he goes home to an empty penthouse. His wife left him not because she wanted more money, but because she wanted him. She supported him while he chased success, and he took her presence for granted. Now he has more money than he could ever spend, but none of it matters without the woman he wishes he had fought harder for.

The grocery clerk who always has a smile and seems so cheerful, the one you wish you could be more like. What you don’t see is that he is a veteran who now lives in a tent down the hill, fighting homelessness while still choosing kindness.

So when we think about all of these things, these small glimpses into the lives of people around us, would we really want to trade places with them? Would we willingly choose to endure everything they have just to have a better lawn fifty years down the line?

I don’t know what your answer is, but mine is surely no.

I would much rather be grateful for all I have been through and genuinely happy for the people in my life who have accomplished the goals I hope to reach one day. Maybe instead of being jealous of people we perceive to be ahead of us, we can thank God for the path he has placed us on.

Maybe the perspective shifts to this.

God, help me start pulling the weeds in my own yard so that it can flourish someday.

God, help me choose better things for my body so I can grow stronger over time.

God, help me prioritize my mental health so I can build a healthy, lasting relationship.

God, help me learn new skills and embrace discipline so I can work my way up and create a better future.

God, help me be patient so I can be kind.

Instead of being jealous of others, let us celebrate them. Let us honor how far they have come. Let us learn their story before judging the final product or the one still in the process of becoming.

And this goes the other way too. Not just with people we envy, but with those we judge as less than. But that is another story for another time.

At the end of the day, before judgment or jealousy, let us take a step back. Let us bring those feelings to God instead of letting them harden our hearts. Let us celebrate others for how far they have come, and celebrate ourselves for continuing on our own unique, beautiful paths.

We are such small beings on this massive planet, yet we constantly compare ourselves to a perception rather than the full story. We see what is in front of us and assume we know what it took to get there, what it cost, or the pain they endured.

I recently had a friend share with me that when I was still in my marriage, she often thought, “It must be nice.” What she didn’t see was that I was suffering in silence. No one truly knew the depth of my daily heartache, how hard I was trying to hold everything together, or how desperately I was attempting to fix something when I didn’t even know where to begin. They didn’t see the nights I spent screaming, crying, and begging God for even the smallest glimmer of hope, for a way forward that didn’t end in a broken family. All the while, I was keeping my business afloat, showing up for the people in my life who needed me, and doing my best to stay quiet about what was really happening once I walked back through my own front door.

Nothing is ever as it seems. So when these feelings arise, because they are undeniably human, maybe we pause. Maybe we pray.

Maybe the lesson is not to stop noticing beauty, success, or joy in others.
Maybe it is to stop assuming it came without loss and stop wanting to trade places.

And maybe, just maybe, instead of saying “It must be nice,” we learn to say, “I don’t know their story.”

Thank you for being here,

Kaitlyn