When I’m Not Enough

By no means have I ever considered myself perfect. Or even close to perfect. I’ve never been so deluded that I thought I had my life completely together and that everything in my life was just…perfect.

No, I’m frequently a bit of a mess — no matter how well I’ve learned to hide it when other people are around me. Let’s face it, I’m a 24-year-old single female who lives on her own, doesn’t clean frequently enough, worries about the future, has bills and student loans to pay, gets emotional and hormonal from time to time (like us females expertly do), worries too much about how she looks, does NOT consider herself even close to satisfactory at cooking, and has a bit of a stress attack when she doesn’t get her introvert “me alone time” at least once a week.

That’s the messy side of me in a nutshell.

But even though I’ve never believed myself to be perfect, there have been times in my life when I’ve fallen into the trap of believing that I was at least good enough. And what’s worse, that I was good enough because of me — because of my ability.  Because of what I’ve done.

There have been times when I believed that I was better than most — this to my utter disappointment in myself today. I’ve learned the hard way that being “better than most” is most definitely not a valid description for myself.

Now, I’ve always considered myself a bit of a goody two-shoes, and it’s kind of true. I really do have mild panic attacks if I think I’m breaking any kind of “rule” whatsoever. Case in point, today I went to the grocery store to pick up a few things. I got in the “Express Line” knowing that my 13 items fell under the required “15 items or less.” But upon looking closer at the sign as I got closer to the front of the line, I noticed that it actually said “10 items or less.” Guys, I got nervous and actually almost got out of line. But the very long lines at every other normal register were enough to keep me there–to my great discomfort and guilt.

So no, I never really did anything rebellious. I let that goody two-shoes persona define me, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing in and of itself. But I can see now that it stemmed from an incredible fear of disappointing others — especially those who I looked up to and whose approval I really craved. And to this day, that is still my greatest fear in life:

Being a disappointment.

Most of my life, I let this fear drive my actions. Again, I’m not saying that following the rules and being a goody two-shoes is a bad thing and that being rebellious is a good thing. I’m just saying that when your motivation for being a goody two-shoes is fear of disappointment — fear of not being good enough — then things start to get dicey.

This life lesson really began for me when I entered college. You know the story — my first time on my own, away from the ‘rents, with the freedom to do as I please (sort of). For the most part, I made very good decisions (like the goody two-shoes that I am). Honestly, I would say that my goody two-shoes self showed more brightly during my college years than any other years of my life — if not simply by contrast to much of my surroundings. I was a conservative little Christian girl at a state college known for it’s drinking and parties who would stay in my dorm room on Friday and Saturday nights reading The Chronicles of Narnia and sipping hot cocoa.

Yes. Yes, I did.

But the catch about all of that is that this is who I was when others were watching. And during much of my life to that point, there hadn’t ever really been a moment when others weren’t watching. There was always someone to disappoint because there was always someone watching, so I always had to be Miss Goody Two-Shoes.

And then all of a sudden, I had found myself in a place where nobody was watching. You know that saying that what you do when nobody is watching is what really defines your true character? Well, at my first opportunity to prove that I really was a goody two-shoes through and through, I failed miserably.

When no one was watching, I chose sin. Blatant sin. And that’s not to say that I had never sinned before when someone was watching — I had plenty of times. But this was different. This was one of those things that I felt disqualified me from really being a goody two-shoes. And not just that — this was one of those things that I told myself I’d never do, that I told myself I’d never become.

But in that first decision, I started a whirlwind of sin that would envelop and eat away at my faith and self-perception for the next five years.

During those years, I became two different people. The person that everyone else saw, and the person I was when no one was watching. And I became incredibly fearful of anyone ever finding out about who I really was. I had to keep them believing that I was still good — that I was still better than most.

And little by little, I watched my spiritual life and relationship with Christ begin to crumble. At first, I asked God’s forgiveness and repented over and over again — and I know I was forgiven over and over again. But eventually I became tired of coming to God every day, knowing that I was choosing to do wrong, asking His forgiveness, and feeling like a disappointment. Every. Single. Time.

And instead of finally giving it all over to God and accepting freedom in Him from my sin, I chose instead to simply stop speaking to Him so that I could continue in my sin and spare myself the feeling of being a disappointment every time I came to Him. And so began what I would call the darkest eight months of my entire life to date. They were hopeless months, with no direction, no sense of purpose, no true joy, no contentment, and much, much fear.

I thought that still going to church every Sunday morning would be enough. I thought that doing another Bible study would be enough. I thought that still being a goody two-shoes on the outside would be enough.

Spoiler alert: It wasn’t.

No relationship with God = No true freedom in Him. I had become someone I hated. I was a fraud. I was a failure. I was a disappointment.

It wasn’t until one fateful night in October that everything changed. I had just started a new Bible study with a group of ladies from church. It was our first evening of that particular Beth Moore study (LOVE her), and we watched the first video session. To keep things short and sweet, the Holy Spirit used her message in that video to pierce my heart like a sword, digging deep into those dark places with a mixture of conviction and call to grace that I’d never felt before. Seriously, my heart was pounding out of my chest the entire time I was there, and I cried the entire drive home.

When I got home, I immediately went into my room. And for the first time in almost nine months, I spoke to God in prayer. And I finally, finally, after five years, gave that sin over to God and accepted freedom from it in Him. And I haven’t been the same since.

You see, my deep fear of disappointment had always been the main motivation behind my actions. It was why I felt I had to be good. And yes, I absolutely included God in the mix of those who I was very afraid of disappointing.

But when the time came when I chose very wrongly and did not choose to do good, I let everything fall apart. I don’t believe those dark months were God punishing me. I believe it was simply a product of my own faulty belief all my life that I could be enough on my own — that I could be good enough on my own. It was a product of separating myself from God.

If there’s anyone out there who thinks that God is all about convicting people of their wrongdoings, punishing them, and making them feel guilty because they can’t follow His rules, because they aren’t good enough — I have a message for you: You have been very mislead.

You see, while my God is a God of perfect justice, He is also a God of love. He is a God of forgiveness and mercy. He is a God of abundant grace. I spent so much of my life in fear of being a disappointment that I missed the whole point of a relationship with God.

On my own, I am not enough. I never will be. On my own, I make mistakes. I let myself become something other than what God has willed for me and called me to be. I allow myself to get lost, and I allow myself to remain incomplete.

But with God, I am made whole. He guides me back onto a safe path. He fulfills in me His great and wonderful purpose for my life. He forgives me for my mistakes.

With God, I am enough.

Has my life been perfect since that fateful day in October? Absolutely not. I’ve slipped up. I still make mistakes all. the. time. But I don’t let a day go by without spending time with my Savior and bringing those mistakes to Him.

And you know what the best part is? I’ve gotten to know Him more and more — I’ve learned more of His character and His grace, and I’ve learned of his never-ending love for me. And although I may feel like a disappointment for just a few seconds before I begin to speak to Him, something changes as soon as my knees hit the ground and I enter His presence.

He takes it away. His Spirit assures me that I’m not a disappointment — I’m His daughter. A daughter of the King. And He gives me strength to straighten by back, brush off the dirt, and take another go with Him behind me all the way.

That’s my God. He is more than enough. And with Him, I am enough.

 

“In my weakest moment I see you shaking your head in disgrace. I can read the disappointment written all over your face…There’s a war between guilt and grace, and it’s fighting for a sacred space. But I’m living proof that grace wins every time.”  -Matthew West