Last night when I couldn’t sleep, I heard on the radio, “We were never meant to be enough. That is for God.” Isn’t that a wonderful, freeing thought? I don’t need to be enough- – for my hubby, my children, even myself. If I was, they/I wouldn’t need God. But I need to be humble enough to be willing to realize that- and there is the rub- if I’m not enough, then I’m not in control. Am I willing to live with my hands, my heart open? To allow them to struggle through life, allowing them to learn God is enough. What does it look like to allow them to struggle? Am I willing walk with them in the struggle, in their pain? How do I love them well? Can I be okay when they choose something different than I would have? Do I have compassion instead of a judgmental spirit for their brokenness, their hurt, and their issues? Do I believe God is enough for them, that He will take care of them?

There’s the other side of this too. If I’m not enough, then neither is my hubby, my children, you- – are not enough for me. They/you don’t have to be enough for me. God is enough. Do I believe that? Maybe a better question is, Do I live like I believe that God is enough? I struggled with writing that letter to my family. At times it’s so easy to hide, to make it look like we’re mostly okay. Looks can be so deceiving. But it was good for me to put words to what we/I live with. Yet it’s humbling, embarrassing to admit, to show my brokenness, my deficits, my issues. But if I keep it all behind the mask, how can you love me? How can you walk with me? How can I know God if I’m not willing to be honest, if I’m not willing to live with an open heart? And when you get to the place and you realize- God is all you have, you do find out and believe “GOD IS ENOUGH”. But in the middle of the battle it is so hard to remember, the war has already been won. It is hard to rest, to just be with God our Father. I want to fight. I want to win the battle. I want to be in control. And so I doubt that God is enough. I doubt that He can work this for my good. I doubt that He can make beauty out of ashes. That He can heal broken shattered dreams. That He can dance in the storm with me. But it was in my brokenness, in the middle of the night when there was no one there, God was there and God was enough. God heard my heart’s cry and He came in that quiet way gently wrapping His arms around me and holding me close. He was okay with me not being enough, with my brokenness because HE was enough.