Thursday, February 26, 2015

it's enough


I reckoned that my word was enough for this year and now we are two months in and I find myself staring at the days that have all but passed me by, letting the overused phrase enough is enough give my heart comfort. 

But that phrase can't become a balm to a hurting soul. 

It can't undo sickness, it can't replace grief. 

Enough is enough, that isn't exactly what my heart meant when I declared enough to be my word for 2015. But instead I figured Jesus would teach me that I'm enough this year, and that He is enough. 

But when sickness claimed the victory over my body for two and a half weeks and when Jesus took my Grandfather home, enough is enough, became my standard response. 

However, what I learned is that God is the same God in my sickness, as He is in my health, what I learned is that God is the same God in my grief, as He is in my joy. 

I learned that there will be days when you need people to care for you. They will catch the keys from the window and come in to wash the dishes and concoct something out of nothing for lunch. They will be the ones that tell you to stay right where you are and let them tend to you. They will exhaust their home remedies and their endless hugs. 

And you will be alright, because Jesus will be meeting your needs through His people. 

And then you will have dinners at midnight with all-consuming laughter and you'll forget the stress that is threatening to take you over. 

You will be reminded that out of a book, God brought you a family. 

You will be reminded that sometimes you need to forget schedules, you need to forgo bedtimes and let yourself be surrounded with eleven people that you love with all you are. 

and…then you'll receive a message. 10 years. 10 years ago you said goodbye to your grandfather, and now you are having to say goodbye to the adopted grandfather that walked into your life with a joke, a twinkle in his eye and an ever-present need to straighten up the clothes. 

You forgot how to grieve and the only thing you knew was that you should come back home. And just like years previous, people would question, would ask if this was the right thing. But I think you know that there isn't a right or a wrong here. I think you knew that you needed to come home and say goodbye, just as much as you needed to lay in bed for a few days. 

Your little home team surrounded you with nine prayers and your darling adults bid you well and friends sat with you for hours as you talked yourself in and out of buying the plane ticket. And then there was the doorbell ringing at 7:30 in the morning and that steady voice telling you all would be well, telling you what you had once told him that there should be no fear of right or wrong, that if you are seeking Jesus, He will take you where He wants you to be. 

The expectations you were placing on yourself weren't enough, they were too much. And I think this time at home has shown you that. 

You see people with grace and many times they question your ease at loving others, but your problem is that you hardly ever see yourself with that same grace. You have a million expectations on yourself and your spirit trembles at times, because you don't let yourself rest. You don't let yourself grieve.

And if we're honest with each other, I don't know that you know how to rest. I don't know that you know how to grieve. And maybe you aren't the only one, maybe no one truly knows. But here's what you can learn here; you are enough. God is enough in your sickness and He is enough in your grief. 

And yes, Monday was too much, dear child. Days like Monday always are, because grief isn't something that comes natural. Grief is something that steals your breath like a bitter cold and latches onto your heart for a time. And yes, your dear ones that love you are going to tell you to let go and they are going to ask you a million questions, but child, you grieve. You say goodbye. You sit in your silence and just remember that God is enough. And so He will always be… 

And when grief wants to take hold, just remember the moment when you got to read Granny these words. Just remember that God knew you would need a few more hours with him and that is exactly what you had, child. 


I just wanted to again remind you how much that I love you. You came into my life just at the right time and filled a hole that I am certain that only you could have filled. I have been tremendously blessed by your encouragement, your willingness to look at picture after picture and hear of my sweet children in Mexico, you gracing birthdays and last days with flowers and true hugs. 

Granny, your presence filled an undeniable absence in my heart and I am so grateful that you "adopted" me into your family. Goodwill gifted me many things throughout the nine years I have called it home, but you are certainly one of the biggest gifts I have received. 

And well, honestly, I wish I could be sitting with you as you read this. I wish I could be telling you the gratefulness that exists upon my heart for knowing you, for you knowing me, for you loving me. But even if I was there, I am not sure I could find the words to tell you how grateful I am. Because in moments like this, the perfect words don't exist. 

And so I find myself rambling, but it's all in love. I have been forever changed by knowing you, Granny. Your constant reflection of Jesus, the joy in your eyes, and your undeniable strength have reminded me that even on the hardest of days-I need to carry on, I need to push through and let my life sing of His praise. 

Thank you for loving me and for taking me in over these past nine years, Granny. Thank you for coming in and sitting with us, sharing your stories and your sugar-free gum, thank you for making a store feel like home and for reminding me that Jesus is always enough, and He always needs to be first. 

Granny, the lives that you have touched just by being you are innumerable. I can't rightly tell you of all the people that are blessed to know you, the people that you set out to love on a daily basis, that are often overlooked or are unloved by most. 

Thank you for your love. Thank you for being my Grandfather, who has always welcomed me back no matter how much time has passed. Thank you for celebrating my small victories and for encouraging me on the hardest of days to keep looking up to Jesus for my strength. Thank you for being here for me. 

And as write this, tears are near, because I am so thankful for you.

I love you and I'm covering you with all of my prayers from Mexico, 

I'll be home for Christmas, Granny, 

Monday, February 9, 2015

God sees you...

God sees you. 

I wonder how often we let this phrase fall flippantly off our tongue, without letting it resonate and shake our souls. I wonder what it takes to believe that when that when the world refuses to welcome you back in grace, that your worth in the world's eyes pales in comparison to your God, your God who sees you. 

Your worth does not stem or end with what the world will tell you. 

Worth comes from your God, who formed you to be only you, to fill your place. 

But you know what? 

We latch onto people's words as though it ends with them, giving them the last word of our lives, and Jesus looks on…

We box up our desires alongside our dreams and we refuse to believe that there is more to this life than it seems, meaning fades to dust and who we really are is forgotten. 

Rejection wreaks havoc on our hearts and people's idea of where and what we should be overshadows everything. 

My past has been finding a way of being told these days - the seven year fight to be loved, the harsh words declaring I was giving up, walking out of God's will. . . but those things don't get to hold me back anymore. They no longer have my permission. 

The truth has won out, the truth that God sees me and knows me compels me onward. 

I used to want to give up and fade out before being seen, but now I am starting to believe that never was what was to become of me, because no matter how hard I tried to hide- God always saw me and He always knew me…where I saw rejection, He saw redemption, where I saw worthlessness, He saw worth, where I saw a heart broken, He saw a heart mended. 

You little heart, what do you believe to be out of reach, what is the fear that grips hold of your heart, what do you see?

Now those things are just things. God wants hold of your heart. He wants you to realize that the world will always try to claim you and peg your worth, but your worth rests in Him and His grace, the past doesn't have to be retraced. 

God sees you as you are, beautiful with your every scar. Unclench your fists, child, let His love persist. 

And you will realize that you have always been enough, you have always been loved, you will realize that your story was always meant to be told.