Some days, I feel like Superwoman.
I solve creative problems at work. I write a new essay during my lunch break. I pump enough milk. I play with Selah without getting impatient. I ask Dan how he’s doing and really listen to his answer. I read a few chapters of my book before going to bed at 10 pm.
But most days, any number of these things fall through the cracks of my go-go-go day. It’s not that I’m taking on too much or overscheduling myself. I’m a full-time mom, full-time wife, full-time employee; I’m a part-time writer, part-time reader, part-time house cleaner and toy picker upper.
This is just a busy, tiring season of my life, I tell myself.
On the good days, I believe it.
On the bad days, I drip hot tears into my dinner while Dan prays for our food.
Lately the guilt has been a thick fog, a mist that dampens and clouds everything: my spirit, my picture of God, my dreams for the future, my right-now reality. I constantly feel like I am doing everything halfway, at best. I feel like I am not enough, don’t have enough time, can’t do enough right, and can’t give fully enough.
Well-intentioned friends have told me “You are enough,” and I’ve heard it over and over in songs, seen it over and over on social media. It makes me feel good for the moment—Yeah, I am enough!—but I can’t seem to get myself to believe it to my core, and then the moment passes and I feel just as not enough as I did before.
To this I say: Enough. Enough. Enough.
I am enough, but not really.
I am enough, except when I’m not.
I am enough, until I drop a ball five seconds from now.
I come face to face all over again with my very real shortcomings and flaws and sins.
And you know what? I’m under no illusions that I’m the only one who feels this way, who knows deep in my soul that I am not enough. Are you there with me, stranded in the fog?
In the face of my shortcomings, I’m reminded that we were never meant to be enough, because our weaknesses reveal the depth of our need for a God who is big enough, a Savior who is strong enough, a Spirit who is gracious enough to sustain us and fill in the gaps where we fall short day after day.
[The Lord] said,“My grace is all you need. My power works best in weakness.” So now I am glad to boast about my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ can work through me.
—2 Corinthians 12:9
So what does this look like practically? It sounds so good on paper (or, looks so good on the screen), but how do we actually allow God to fill in our gaps?
We open his Word. We open our mouths to pray, even just the prayer of a single breath: Jesus, be enough. We open our hands to receive help. We open our hearts to the idea that while we may fall short of this standard we’ve set for ourselves, maybe we’re actually doing better than we give ourselves credit for.
And when we really have messed it all up, we lay down our pride and open wide our arms and ask for forgiveness. We extend mercy when we’re the ones on the other side of that divide. We model Christ, creating tenderness where there once was friction and peace where there once was strife.
Here’s the truth: We will fail our children, but Jesus will not. We will fail our husbands, but Jesus will not. We will fail our moms and our siblings and our friends and our bosses and our Instagram followers, but Jesus will not.
We are not enough, and we have hope.
Because if we make it our goal to point others to him, the God who is enough, then that is enough.I am not enough, but I have #hope in the one who is. Click To Tweet