Recently, there has been a growing desire for a shift in my thought life. Growing up, I was part of a lower middle-class family. I lived with my grandparents. I had food and clothing and shelter. Then, my grandfather passed away when I was in 5th grade. My grandmother’s health began to decline. One of my uncles came to live with us to help out. It was the beginning of a downward spiral. He spoke a lot of life-draining words that all seemed to land on me not being good enough and that I would never have anything good in life.
Even now in my late 30s, his words still ring out loud and clear. Along with those words spoken over me, there were numerous times when we didn’t have enough. We didn’t have enough money. We didn’t have enough food.
I often try to pretend things aren’t having an effect on me when obviously they are. I learned to live in this poverty mindset where there is never enough and worse yet, no hope of that ever changing. It’s a pretty exhausting way to live.
When the Lord saved me, His Spirit took up residence inside of me. All that is Him is good and all that is good now resides inside of me. My logic understands that, but my heart has taken a long time to catch up. Sometimes, I’m not sure that it has.
I have this one set of friends who are extremely versed in conveying the character of God. One of the phrases that glides off of their tongues ever so effortlessly: There is always more. It’s simple enough, right? But, do I believe it? Do you believe it?
More often than not, I’m not convinced that I do. I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that God is not lacking and is lavishly generous to us. And still, I often live in such a way that completely contradicts that. I doubt. I worry. I fear. I speak hopelessness.
Some of the areas in my life where this poverty mindset has taken root are in my calling, identity, talent, skill, and my finances. I am not sure how I began to believe the lie that God doesn’t have enough of anything to go around. I subconsciously believe that if someone has something, then there is none left for me. I am sure you can agree this thought isn’t intentional. I’m sure you don’t even recognize this thought when it occurs.
But the Father has been gently convicting me of my perspective because His Word shouts to the opposite of all that this poverty mindset whispers.
And God is able to bless you abundantly, so that in all things at all times,
having all that you need, you will abound in every good work.
2 Corinthians 9:8 (NIV)
The first four words speak volumes. And God is able. He has every ability and inclination to do and to work and to supply. It is the nature of a good, loving, and faithful Father to do so. It doesn’t matter what we need or ask for, He can bless and provide abundantly. He opens the windows of Heaven. He pours out all that He has to overflow.
He longs for us to operate in full faith in His ability to be generous. His generosity is never dependent on our faithfulness, but His alone.
Comparison is the gift that keeps on giving, isn’t it? I look at the woman to my right and left and think she is making far better contributions to the world than I am, and I decide my gifts aren’t needed. I see her get an opportunity that I wanted, and I decide there are no more opportunities. I see her surrounded by those I’d like to be friends with, and I become jealous. I see her incredible gifts and talents and decide that mine aren’t good enough. Nonsense, right?
God created each one of us with such care and accuracy. He has positioned us in this time and this season for a specific purpose. There are gifts and callings that only you can fulfill. He has given each of us a measure of influence. We all have a small role to play within His great story. All of our gifts are needed and valuable to build His Kingdom. When we are good stewards of what He has entrusted to us, the more of God is readily available to us.
There is good news for those of you who feel as though you are never enough: you don’t have to be. Jesus has been and will always be more than enough. And in Him, there is always more.