[originally posted on january 7th, 2015]
Today, I started my second semester of my junior year. And it wouldn’t be the first day of school if I didn’t cry, right?
2015 just started. Over and over, I’ll say it – I love new years. In regards to this new year, I’m in love already and my heart is full, full, full.
Today, I went to the first chapel. As we stood and sang lyrics that say “the riches of Your love will always be enough”, it was as if the Lord Himself was standing next to me, asking me if His love really is enough for me.
For the next hour, I couldn’t think of anything else. Is Jesus’s love enough for me plagued all of my thoughts. It plagued the way I considered my Wednesday to-do list, the way that I thought about all the things I want to make, the way that I thought about the next year, the way I considered my future.
If Jesus took away my ability to make calligraphy, would He be enough for me? If He snatched away my etsy shop, would He be enough for me? If I couldn’t paint like I can, would He be enough for me? If He never gave me a husband, would I be okay with that? If He never gave me an income, would I trust Him to be enough? If I couldn’t go to Anderson University, would He be enough for me? If I didn’t have all my friends, would Jesus and I be on good terms? If Jesus didn’t give me all my things, would simply having him be enough?
To the crying part. Nothing will stress you (and definitely me) out more than a negative bank account and a whopping $200 textbook bill. Seriously. As anxiety crept it’s way in quickly, I literally felt all the control that I thought I had fly away from me. It seems that all that I’ve done to practice holding it together and keeping my anxiety down is useless in this time of crisis.
And it became really clear to me that no, Jesus would not be enough for me then. If I had Jesus without all that Jesus gives me, it wouldn’t be enough. Shamefully but honestly, I say that.
The conviction that comes with a realization like that was not lost on me either. How quickly I forgot who holds it all together. How quickly I forget the one that makes all things right and good and new. How quickly I forget who receives the glory; and when that glory is bestowed, how quickly I forget that it is I who receives the joy for His glorification.
Chaos easily entangles. And it holds tightly. Currently, at this moment, I feel only its tight grip. To say that I feel calm about all the things and that I know everything will be okay would be untrue. I think that’s what being a Christian is about – it’s about learning the gap. About learning how to go from the place where I am – a place where the smallest of problems can send me in a tizzy, forgetting the Lord and forgetting anything He promises – to the place where I want to be – one where I know who holds yesterday, today, and tomorrow and that is enough.
As I type truths about the Lord, I feel that anxiety wavering. It isn’t gone, but it’s going. I think that’s what being a Christian is about, too – knowing the gap and then learning how to handle it, whether you’re on the left side of it, the middle, or the right side. It’s all about how you respond and who you respond to.
I’m going to declare this year the year that I learn how to respond. The year that I learn the gap and I come to conquer it. The year that I decide to build a bridge and slowly, but surely begin to make my baby steps across it. Because being here is fine, but staying here is not.
My word “enough” already looks a lot differently than I thought it would. I first thought it would be about me being enough because Christ – who is enough – is in me, but it seems that enough is about Him being enough without all the things that make Him be enough. If that makes sense. It seems that I’m learning to call Christ enough even when I don’t feel like I have enough. What a puzzle for me that is.
So shall I say onward, we go? Because we do. We do because we gloriously and victoriously know who calms all chaos. We know who makes beautiful things out of ashes and dust; it feels that there’s a lot of both around me now.
Jesus, in your name, I speak to the mountains in my life. because of who you are, I can know that tomorrow will be good because you bring good things. help me to know goodness when it doesn’t feel good. what a marvelous thought – that I could know you even in the midst of circumstances that don’t feel like you at all. help me to be not such a drama queen, but to turn to you, the one that makes all things right. thanks for being rocking. here’s to a rocking ride.
so that Christ’s power may rest on me. – 2 Corinthians 12:9