I always thought that I would arrive. I really believed that the day would come that I would wake up and look in the mirror and think, "You're here, girl. You can exhale now."
I thought that the day would come that I would be smart enough and skinny enough and spiritual enough and matureenough and just ready enough to take on the world without any help from anyone - ever.
It's ridiculous now, as I look at it spelled out in black and white. But there were parts of my heart that really believed that if I just worked and strived and pushed and pulled, someday I would size myself up and say, "Enough. You're enough."
& the world - all of the people & the voices & the opinions - they would certainly use all of their tools to measure me and say, "Enough. You really are enough."
Enough isn't real.
Not in the human way, at least. Not in this broken world. Not outside of Christ and His grace. And certainly not in and of myself. People are funny that way. We say we want to have plenty. To have enough. But we don't really know what that is. Because we set goals and we complete them and then we make to-do lists and check everything off and somehow the sun goes down and the day ends and we never feel finished. We still aren't whole and still nothing is enough.
Not too long ago, all of my striving caught up with me. All of my attempts to be "whatever-enough" finally became too much. The load was too heavy and my Jesus was kind enough to break me just enough to know that I could never do this alone. One Tuesday, just the other week, I found myself sitting on the floor of the gym with tears in my eyes and a very confused heart because the pounds were falling off and plenty of sweet people were telling me I was pretty again but it still wasn't enough. And I was pushing and striving and hurting myself on more than just a physical level all in an attempt to be something that didn't exist for an audience that didn't even buy tickets to my crazy little show. I was just bending over backwards and knocking myself down, all in the name of just one more size lower and Instagram pictures that wouldn't need filters.
& God is still so good.
He's good in every way. He's good in the way that He watched me hurt and He hurt for me. And He's good in the way that He let me get to that point but all the while He never stopped whispering His truth to me. His thoughts of me never changed. He never looked at me and thought less of me because of my silly striving to be something for myself that only He could be. And He never, ever stopped being enough.
And when I finally fell to that gym floor and really came face to face with myself for the first time in a long time, He didn't hesitate to wrap me up in Him. To let His words of grace and truth and peace wash over me. To let His promises of value and life and identity in Him fill my heart again. He was never far.
I was just too busy looking for enough in the mirror to see Him.
So if I learned anything that day, it's this:
Chin up & eyes on Him.
This world is rough and it's mean and it will do everything it can to pull your focus in a million different directions. To force your eyes on a relationship or a job or a struggle or even just the mirror. And sometimes it's a lot easier to put your head down and look at the ground under your feet because it just really hurts to pick your chin up.
But He is beautiful. And He is peace and He is hope and He is the definition of grace and He is so, so worth the moment that you lift up your eyes and keep them fixed on Him.
because something crazy happens:
the things of this world grow strangely dim.
the mirror doesn't seem so appealing.
the people and the voices and the opinions aren't as loud.
you no longer need to measure up.
He becomes e n o u g h.