Raising children can sometimes be incredibly discouraging. Teaching students can often be completely defeating. Ministering to others can be profoundly draining. I have often closed my eyes at night and found my thoughts creeping into those dark places. You know them. They are the corners of our mind where our greatest fears lurk. In those moments I begin to wonder if my children would sometimes be better off with a different mother. Or if my students would learn more from a different teacher. Or if there were others better equipped to minister than I am.
In those murky moments my thoughts prowl around saying things like, “So and So would not have yelled at her children like I did today. So and So would have better classroom management. So and So would be thrilled at the prospect of ministering to Dora Downtrodden.” The list of self-deprecating thoughts can go on forever. I have a sneaking suspicion you may have some of the same words knocking around your brain every now and then too…I wish I was wrong because no women should ever think so lowly of herself. But we do. We wonder if we are enough. And, oh, how the enemy laughs and rubs his evil little hands together in anticipation of our demise. It’s time to put him in his place.
I have recently been reminded of a priceless lesson a precious friend taught me years ago. Until now, she has no idea the impact her experience has made on my life. It is a lesson we all must truly take to heart. You see, Kelly was pregnant with her second child, a daughter. Early sonograms suggested a birth defect. It was possible her precious daughter, Morgan, would be born without an esophagus. The news was heart-wrenching.
One day I looked Kelly in the eyes and asked her, “How are you?” She knew I was asking for more than the perfunctory response. She knew I was really asking, “How are you dealing with all of this? Are you scared? What are you going to do if worst-case-scenario happens?” Her response over nine years ago still resonates with me. She simply said, “Heather, I know without a doubt, regardless of what happens at Morgan’s birth, God has chosen me to be her mother. He has given me all the strength and tools I need to be the mommy Morgan needs me to be.”
Wow. Did you catch that? It’s so simple, yet completely profound. God chose Kelly to be Morgan’s mommy. She was enough. When I really begin to think about what Kelly’s statement means, I am simply in awe of what it means for me. For you. God specifically chose me as the mother for my children. He specifically chose me to teach the 150 students that will walk through my classroom door in less than two weeks. He chooses me for specific ministry moments that come my way.
It kinda takes the pressure off, doesn’t it? I don’t have to be like the woman I admire to do what God has called me to do. I will make countless mistakes, and there is always room for growth and improvement. God’s hand-picking me does not lessen my responsibility. But when I really begin to contemplate God choosing me over any other woman in the world to mother Ella and Caleb, I am pretty blown away. I have realized I only need to be, well, me. Me is enough.
This truth means no other person could do what I do for my children, my students, or those I meet. To deny this, is to deny God’s purpose and call on my life. The same is true for you. You bring beauty and light to those around you in a way that is different from any other woman in the world. You are the mother of your children for a purpose. You are at your workplace with your coworkers for this specifically chosen time. You encounter people daily needing to see God’s love and minister in ways no other woman could.
You are enough.
You are enough.
You are enough.
And that, dear friends, is a beautiful realization that brings great joy.
(In case you’re wondering, Morgan was miraculously born perfectly healthy, without a single birth defect.)