Can I confess something to you?
It’s not going to be pretty. I am embarrassed to admit this, but here I go:
I don’t always live like I truly believe that “Jesus is enough.” I say that I believe it. But I don’t always live those words. That sobering reality brought me to my knees recently when I was singing along to a song that blared through my car speakers.
I’ll bet you’ve heard the song, and maybe you’ve even sung it. Here’s the chorus:
“All of You is more than enough for
All of me for every thirst and every need
You satisfy me with Your love
And all I have in You
Is more than enough”
As I drove along, I sang the words loudly, and I knew every word by heart.
The song played on, but I stopped singing.
Because did I really believe that? Did I really believe that God is “more than enough?”
Could I sing that song if something awful happened to the kids? If my marriage fell apart? If we filed for bankruptcy? If I lost all my friends? If I couldn’t afford the stuff I love so much? If I lost my ability to reason, or think, or speak?
Would God really be enough then?
The questions made me uncomfortable enough that I had to stop singing the words, and really ponder what it means to say that Jesus is “enough.”
Here’s my heart: to make Jesus known to my kids, my community, and to readers right here at (in)courage. At the core, my message has always been this: Jesus is enough. But do I really mean it, in my everyday life, in the deepest places of my heart where I still want what I want?
Dear Lord, let it be so! When we say You are enough, let it be so. When we say You alone satisfy us, let it be true. When we say that You meet every need, let us mean it!
Recently, I listened to a podcast from Scott Sauls, a pastor in Nashville. His words reminded me how hard it is for an American, in particular, to be truly content with “just Jesus.” Why? Because we cling to so many other things. Yet, Pastor Sauls says, “the things we cling to are slippery.”
Slippery, indeed. The truth is, outside of Jesus, everything I treasure has a shelf life. It’s all “slippery.” Someday, either my husband or I will grieve for the loss of the other. Someday, I won’t be able to write books anymore. My kids won’t need me like they do now. The roof over my head will one day be gone. As I age, I could lose my memory, even my ability to remember the names of my own children.
Most of us reading these words today are rarely put in the position where we actually have to confront the truth that — as the song says — “all of You is more than enough.” Compared to most of the world, our entire lives are the epitome of “more than enough,” even on our worst days. Because of our access, our excess, and our privilege, it’s terribly easy to fall into the belief that somehow we made it happen.
But we can’t take credit for any of it. We can’t take credit for being born into this affluent nation, full of possibility, health care, and abundance. Pastor Sauls said: “You can’t take credit for that … any more than a poor little girl can take the blame for being born in Calcutta and living all her life on less than two bucks a day.”
The idea of the self-made human is akin to “being born on third base and taking credit for hitting a triple. It’s a total myth,” Pastor Sauls said.
As for me, I want to do more than sing lyrics to nice songs. I want to mean them. I want to believe in my heart that whether I hit a triple or “strike out,” Jesus is enough.
I want to know deeply that everything I have is because of Him, and all that I have is more than I deserve. I am certain that I’ll know, when I get to heaven, how true this is: Jesus really is enough. But I don’t want to wait until I’m standing before my Savior to believe it with all my heart. I want to believe it right now.
Because, if I want to live my fullest life, it’s crucial for me to believe it in this moment. I want to believe what heaven already knows: Jesus was, and is, and always shall be more than enough.
YOUR TURN: How has Jesus proven to you that he truly is enough? Or, is this concept a struggle for you, too?