My grace is sufficient

I walk a weird line.

It’s a line between secret pride and acute feelings of inadequacy. A line between reveling in the accolades of others and succumbing to the voices inside of me that hiss about my unworthiness, my unlovability, and my hopeless pursuit of wholeness.

It’s a line that feels like the edge of a knife: clearly defined and painful.

This journey of finding who I am and where I am headed is not easy. I feel selfish even writing such words because, truly, my journey is cake compared to the life realities of so many others. I am not facing chronic disease. I am not wrestling with the death of a loved one. I am not looking for work, worried about how I will feed my children.

Truly, I am blessed. Embarrassingly rich in evidence that God provides. Christ’s mercy is visible everywhere I look and His love is unmistakable. I have no reason to complain…no reason to worry…no reason to question whether the God of yesterday and today will still be sovereign tomorrow.

And, yet, this journey is not easy. It is full of loss and sadness and disappointment and heartache. It is full of more tears than I would care to burden my patient friends with. It is full of false starts and dead ends and what ifs.

This morning, as I have been telling myself that I need to write a blog post, I have heard a single message in the back of my mind. Words that have been familiar to me most of my life. An idea that looks good on paper, sounds sweet in my ear, but isn’t always easy to grasp onto when a storm is raging:

And He has said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for power is perfected in weakness.” Most gladly, therefore, I will rather boast about my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may dwell in me.” – 2 Corinthians 12:9 (NASB)

What does that mean? What is the the impact of those words on my life…my silly, little, periodically-sad life? How does that idea balance against the heartache of a lost marriage, of loneliness, of dashed hopes, of struggles with disrespectful offspring, of the panicked feelings of knowing I’m about to lose my house…of the shame I feel having typed those words?

Is God big enough to calm a storm? Is He great enough to heal the sick and raise the dead? Is He patient and loving enough to feed thousands with the most meager of physical resources?

Is His grace truly sufficient?

I have to believe that it is. Even when it doesn’t feel like it. Even when I’d rather claim that I can’t believe in a higher plan when the journey I’m on feels so random and divided. Even when I feel weak and a bit lost.

I walk this weird line between belief and disbelief. Between knowing and doubting. Between feeling strong and secure and fearing the worst. But I know that, even as I worry about what lies ahead and where we will be living in six months and whether I will find a woman who will love me and whom I will love, I know that this storm is nothing. These worries are puny.

And my weakness is the perfect fodder for God’s grace to be made visible.


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