You can’t do this. You can’t do this. You can’t do this.
The words taunt, my eyes fill, heart pounding, red creeps up my neck.
A knock on the door, a lady presents a lapel microphone and instructs me like I’m Somebody. I push it away and ask to stand hidden behind the podium and the thousand eyes waiting for me to inspire them.
“I’m sorry, I’m not very good at this,” I try to sound lighthearted as she closes the door.
I can’t even breathe. My inadequacy fills the room.
My cell phone vibrates in my pocket, I crack at my husband’s calm voice more than a thousand miles away.
“I can’t do this,” I say it out loud, I’m holding back a flood.
“Why?” he says gently
I whisper “Because I have nothing left to give.”
He knew how challenging our week had been. He knew how inadequate we both felt during this season of hard parenting. He knew how exhausted I was, he knew he held me the night before as we prayed over our children and gave them back to God again. And he knew what to say:
“That’s exactly what you need to say when you walk out on that stage in the next 5 minutes. That’s why you must do this. These women don’t need to hear that you have it all together and have got this mothering thing down. They need to know you’re just like them. They need to see your struggle and know you’re real. They don’t need to hear from you; they need to hear from Him.”
He put me on hold and I took a long, deep breath. We ended the call with my children praying over me. It was a holy moment hearing their voices lifting me up to our Father.
And so that’s what I did: I gave them all I had, which was actually nothing.
It was in my emptiness that He moved. He encouraged thru my brokenness. He asked for my all and my nothing was enough.
It’s in our weakness, He is made strong.
Maybe when you reach down deep, you come up empty or maybe you give to everyone else and have nothing left for yourself. I’m willing to bet if you’re a mother, wife or a busy woman, wearing a multitude of hats, you have days where you run on empty.
So go ahead, give Him your nothing. His hands are open, ready to receive it.
But step back, girl, because when you aren’t enough, He is.
by Kristen Welch, We are THAT family