You Are Enough

You Are Enough

     I think it might surprise many I struggle with self worth.  I know that probably sounds like the opposite of what you know about me.  Externally I exude confidence and extroversion, but inside I'm typically fighting a daily battle.  I am constantly worrying that I'm not good enough.  The battle isn't rooted in who I am in Christ, because I know that while not worthy of His love, He still loves me.  My issue is rooted in the anxiety of am I a good enough dad, good enough of a man, a servant, etc.  I wonder if I genuinely am enough.  There are days when I look in the mirror and I don't like the person that I see.  I could have won 99 out of a 100 games, but I focus on that one loss.  I've been praying about this and diving deep.  I know that God is soverign and theologically that I am enough in the eyes of the Lord, but I need a little extra encouragement.  The other day I was praying, "Lord, remind me today that I'm not enough."  My answers always come from the Scripture, but sometimes God gives a little 'wink' from heaven.  I'm not a big signs and wonders guy.  I'm a Baptist by trade, but I also believe that God uses circumstances and situations to remind us of His goodness and His presence.  Shortly after I prayed that prayer I came up behind a dusty, dirty, salt covered Fed Ex truck.  Written on the back of the words "You are enough."  It was a little nudge from heaven.  It wasn’t polished. It wasn’t artistic. It looked like someone had written it with their finger at a stoplight.  But it felt holy and like an arrow sent from a good Father in heaven.

      Those three words are the exact ones grief tries to steal from us.  Grief doesn’t just break our hearts.  Grief isn't just tears and sadness, it can sink deep down into our soul and change our identity.  For me personally I faced a situation that at times seemed destined to destroy me and tear me apart.  Grief quietly made me question my worth, and I'm not the only one.  Grief has away of eroding self confidence and making us question ourselves in ways that we historically haven't in the past.  It whispers accusations we didn’t even know we were carrying, like you should be doing more. I feel this way in life.  I feel like I'm not doing enough as a father, future husband again, servant, missionary, etc.  Tiff's passing exasperated my battle with self worth.  Or maybe you are thinking that you should have noticed something in your spouse  sooner, or you should have said that thing you meant to say, or you should have been stronger, or you weren’t enough for them.  And the cruel part is, those thoughts don’t feel like lies. They feel like honesty. Reflection. Responsibility.  Now there might be people when they read that we are enough automatically assume that I'm deviating from solid Bible doctrine but nothing could be further from the truth.  Yes, I know that our sufficiency is found in Christ alone.  Our worth is rooted solely in the finished work of Jesus Christ.  That is the sole reason why God would tell you that you are enough, because you are in Christ Jesus as your Savior.

      But despite knowing what God says we still struggle thinking at times that they are not truth and you probably already know that.  You are just wrestling with it, maybe quietly.  This is grief trying to rewrite your story without grace.  I keep telling myself that I need to be as graceful with myself as God is to me.  Psalm 103:14 says, “For He knows our frame; He remembers that we are dust.”  God never expected you to be superhuman in moments that required supernatural strength. He never expected you to carry the weight of hindsight in moments when you only had the knowledge of the present.  You were living in real time. Loving in real time. Responding in real time.  And that was enough.

      You need to remind yourself that you were not called to be perfect.  You were never called to be the perfect spouse.  You were never called to be the perfect child. You were never called to be the perfect caregiver. You were never called to say all the right things at all the right times.  You were called to love.  And you did. And you know what, imperfect love is still real love.  Tired love is still love.  Confused love is still love.  Overwhelmed love is still love.  Quiet love is still love.  And your loved one did not need a flawless version of you.  They needed you.  The real you.  The human you.  The trying-you.  The broken you.  And that is exactly who they had.  People still need you now.

      Many of you are aware that God put a lovely woman in my life. I’m so grateful for her. She lost her husband and we share a lot of things in common. But one of the things we don’t share in common is forms of measurement. She’s a Canadian, which means she measures everything in Celsius and centimeters, I measure everything in Fahrenheit and inches. We’ve gotten pretty good at translating one form of measurement to the other. We measure things differently, and God measures worth differently too.  We measure ourselves by our perceived failures.  Note that word, perceived.  Perception can often be wrong, and can lie.  Meanwhile God measures us by the love we actually gave.  We replay the moments we wish we could change.  God sees the thousands of moments you showed up, stayed, listened, cared, and tried.  We obsess over the things we didn’t do.  God honors the things you did.  And He whispers what grief tries to drown out, you are enough.  Not because you did everything right.  But because you loved as best as you could and were faithful in the moment.

      I have been trying to lose weight the past few months and one of my exercises is weight lifting.  I watch these really buff guys in the gym lifting and I feel like a cream puff.  One of the more seasoned guys told me, some weights are too heavy to bear at that time.  The same can be said about grief.  One of the heaviest burdens grief places on us is responsibility for things that were never ours to carry.  You were not responsible for the outcome, though you might still feel guilty.  You were not responsible for the timing, though you maybe feel late.  You were not responsible for the ending.  You were responsible for loving.  And you did that faithfully.

      Some things belong to God alone. Life. Breath. Time. Healing. Miracles.  You were never meant to carry those.  You were only meant to carry love.

      For whatever reason we refuse to give ourselves grace.  If someone were to ask for raised hands over who struggles showing yourself grace my hand would go up pretty quickly and really high.  You would never speak to a friend the way you speak to yourself.  You would never tell another grieving person, “You should have been more.”  You would hug them.  You would remind them how much they showed up.  You would point to the love that filled the room.  God is doing that for you right now, in this very moment.  He is gently saying what you struggle to believe, I saw you.  I saw your effort.  I saw your heart.  You were enough.

      I want you to rest in this beautiful truth, your loved one was not keeping score.  They were receiving love.  And they received it from you.  Let that be the place your heart rests.  Not in regret.  Not in hindsight.  Not in guilt.  But in grace.  Because the truth is this, you were enough then.  You are enough now.  And you will be enough tomorrow.

Prayer

Lord, grief has a way of convincing us that we failed. Quiet the voice of accusation in our hearts. Remind us that You never asked us to be more than human. Help us see our memories through Your eyes of grace instead of our eyes of regret. Teach us to believe that our imperfect love was real, meaningful, and enough. Amen.