The Place of Repeated Deconstruction


I’m thick skulled.  I know, shocker!  It’s true.

You’d think that upon hearing something for the 37th time that it might sink in but I’m starting to believe that it takes something more like, oh, 37 years?

There’s a theme going on in my life as of late.  A sort of hammering home of the same 3 words over and over and over.  They may take on various forms but the meaning is the same.  I’m trying to soak it in.  I’m trying to dwell in this place.  I’m trying to believe the truth of them but sometimes there’s this barricade that goes up.  I drag out the wood and the hammer and the nails and I start to construct walls.  Walls built with my own truths.  Constructed from my own design.  Hammered in by my need for control.

But He brings me back to the same place.  The place of repeated deconstruction.   The place of looking over my shoulder and seeing that poorly constructed partition resembling the work of a toddler size contractor all askew and flimsy.  The nails hammered only halfway in and yet I’m so proud of it I practically beam that I built it.  Until I see exactly that.  I built it.  I built it and I did it in my own way and on my own strength and I see now that it’s really a poor excuse of a thing and I need to just tear it all down and remember this.

He is enough.

How do I forget this so often?  How do I long for it so badly one moment and immediately disregard it the next?

How can I be an empty vessel through which the giver of all things flows if I’m constantly filling myself with stuff?

He is enough.

So simple.  Requiring nothing.  Yet requiring everything.

As a family we’ve  been moving forward on a few things that we feel God has called us to over this past year.  Things that we feel have been laid before us repeatedly and through prayer and time and simply taking appropriate steps we feel like we’ve said yes to what he’s asked of us.  We feel like we’re listening and moving and walking forward in grace and, as such, we determine that He will do big things and obviously lead us in the direction we feel he’s pulling.

But then he says no.

We’re tempted to ask why he would lay adoption before us and have us pursue and then close every single door.

We’re tempted to know what on earth we filled out all of those fostering papers for to never even get a return phone call.

Our very human nature wants to know why he would lay these things on us and why we would proceed forward only to be told no.

And yet who are we to ask?  Who are we to question?

He is enough.

But….but….?  But why?  And didn’t you say?  And…and…

He is enough.

We are told that God’s love is free to us.  Thus being not hinged on any one thing, for if there were something to hinge his love for us on then it would cancel out that very word free.

What a nourishment to my soul that feels it can never be enough.  What a salve for the wound when it wants to be more and is told no.  What a promise from Christ that there is nothing I can do to make him love me more today.  He love is free and his love is perfect and unchanging so that nothing I can do to make me feel more righteous can change his heart towards me.  This is it.  I am at the pinnacle today, as I was the very first day I was justified and will be still here every single day no matter how many times I mess it up or how many orphans I do or do not save or how many poor people I do or do not feed.

He is enough.

So I curl up today, sun streaming in my greasy finger printed windows, and I rest before Him not rushing out to change the world because I can’t.  I can only live today, right where he has me, surrounded by the people he lays before me, the opportunities he brings in front of me, right here and right now.

And yet I long to pack up and head across the ocean and march into brothels and proclaim freedom to young girls so hurting.  And I plead with him to just bring one more baby into this house that we can minister to and share the love of Jesus with.  And I am drinking the water of my culture that says that in order to be important we need to do big things.  We need to be history makers and world changers!

But it’s just not true.  I mean, yes some of us are called to that.  But some of us aren’t.

Some of us are called to pray in our homes.  Make cookies for our neighbours.  Visit seniors who may die before the next week we make it back to see them.  Some of us are called to serve our families.   To open that door for the person after us.  To smile.

Being told no to the world changing stuff is hard unless we get that he is enough.

Because if he’s enough then it just won’t matter so much and we’ll know whatever he brings before us, be it rescuing a refugee or taking in the disabled neighbours garbage cans will be to and for his glory, equally.  Not one better than the other.

God is consistently the wrecking ball that tears down the walls I build on my own strength.  He is the sledge hammer bashing down the partitions I put up in my own time.  He’s the fire that burns down the designs and schemes that I come up with on my own and I’m so. freaking.  thankful.  Thankful that he doesn’t let me continue down my own path but stops me, shatters me, brings me back to him over again with the only words I’ll ever need.

I am enough.

Stop it.

I am enough.

You don’t need to try so hard.

I am enough.

I can’t love you any less or any more than I do right now.

I am enough.

He is enough.


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