More then Enough

Recently I read a blog post from one of the few bloggers I follow. And apparently I like this blogger so much that if you would have asked me her name ten minutes ago, I could not even have recalled the beginning letters. (My attention to detail may be lacking in a few areas....as it turns out, Adderall does not fix everything.)

At any rate, she recently reposted a post that I loved the first time around and clearly she did too because she sent it out again (or maybe she was just out of ideas that day.....or even more likely, maybe it just popped up again when I was trying to clear out the 4,000+ emails in my inbox.....please read my above statement about some things NOT being fixable!)

Her name, for the record, is Ann Voskamp. She is a Christian writer and mom and farmer's wife and I will admit to admiring her on so many levels. Maybe even wanting to BE her at times. But mostly, I am inspired. Like most people frantically making it through this life, I need grounding and Ann offers that in ways I don't even know I need sometimes.

This particular post she wrote really hit home though. To put it simply, she offers you three words, neatly packaged in a sweet little story, to remind you that what you get in life is sufficient. Those words, "I get enough," inspired my new mantra:

I get enough.
I have enough.
I am enough.

Whenever I feel shortchanged, I remind myself that, like the child in Ann's story, I get enough. I get enough of everything I need. Food, water, sunshine, happiness, sadness, challenges, all those ordinary days that seem to last forever and go by too fast...oh, and oxygen! (Laugh, but until my doctor got my asthma under control this allergy season, I was not getting the oxygen I needed and trust me, you definitely want enough of that! I now hoard it. I admit it. I am an oxygen hoarder because I now know how much I LOVE to breathe!) But seriously, I get enough. Growing up, I had incredibly generous parents who gave me more than enough. Now that I am an adult (at least on paper) I have an amazing husband who provides us with a life beyond what I could have imagined. And while that doesn't mean we have no problems, I can honestly say, I get enough.

And because I get enough, I have enough. I have enough messes to clean up; my house is bigger than I could possibly stay on top of....if I lived in a third world country, I could host the whole village....and maybe the competing one down the street with the second watering hole. I have more kids than I can keep track of, more activities than are humanly possible to manage alone, more ideas and dreams than I know what to do with and even if I may try to tell you otherwise, I do. not. need. any. more. cowboy boots. (Or chickens. Or rabbits because holy guacamole, forget the carrots, we have RABBITS coming out our ears!). I have enough.

But the big one. The one that I need to tell myself and hear most often. The one thing I need to believe with all my heart and soul lest I mess the whole of this life up and waste it chasing something I cannot even pinpoint:

I am enough.

This last year, I turned forty. 4-0! About six months before that happened, I started freaking out. Like really, truly, clearly-having-a-midlife-crisis, all out panicking. Now, I do not believe I know anyone who, at some point, doesn't question who they are and what they are doing with their lives (you know, unless they are, say, six) but this was a real monster of a wall. Who am I? What am I? What am I doing? What have I done that is important and noteworthy and worthy of this life I have been given? What about me and my plot in life is good and noble and lasting? What will be my legacy? Do I even have one? If I die tomorrow, will my life have mattered beyond my family and few friends? (And no, don't argue with me that my life's worth is in my having 5 ridiculously wonderful kids because my rabbits do that every. single. month....not impressive.)

Six months I tortured myself. Maybe even longer. And then my birthday came and went, like all 39 before that, and the monster at the end of the book was just me and life kept rolling along and when I finally settled down and realized forty is no big deal, I began to grasp that our ultimate purpose, our ultimate worth, is not some big, impressive something that needs to be acknowledged by the world. Really, it isn't even about us at all. It is simply this: We are, we exist, because God loves us. Created in His image, for His love alone, His hope and desire for us is beyond our comprehension. You. Me. We are enough. Enough for God to create, to wait for, to hope for, to fight for.....Enough for God to love. Even enough for death on a cross. We are enough.

It isn't showy. It isn't an Ivy League degree or a high powered job or a wardrobe of designer clothes or a segment on the national news. It doesn't put us in the spotlight of the world or even in our tiny towns. It doesn't make us a rock star to a flock of chickens or help us win soccer games or fold the laundry or put dinner on the table or build our clientele. And yet.....it is more than enough. More than we could possibly imagine or create for ourselves. And if we, if I am enough for that, I am enough for anything.

And so are you.


And since everything sounds cooler in Latin, I leave you with a new mantra to try out for yourself:

Adepto Satis,
Habeo Satis,
Ego Sum Satis

And if I were preaching this in a church, I would now cheesily have the congregation sing (to the tune "We are the Church"):

I am enough.
You are enough.
We are enough together.....

And they would go about their day, humming it to themselves, remembering. (And trying to get that blasted tune out of their head!) Just like you will. (You're welcome!)

Much love to you all my friends!

(p.s. Don't trust my Latin....)

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