When It Is No Longer Enough
Hello little corner of the Internet…
It sure has been a while. I honestly wasn’t sure if I would even remember my password to get into this blog, but thank you Safari for remembering for me. I heard recently that blogging and blogs in general are dying. You have to have a fancy website and a relatively large platform for anyone to even take the time to read anything you write. This may be true. I have no idea. I don’t really care anyway.
The truth is the reason I have abandoned the blog has way more to do with not knowing how to stay truthful and vulnerable without passing into “oversharing” than whether or not anyone is reading this. I only ever wrote as an outlet to share what God was doing in my personal life and in my ministry here in Guatemala, so I figured the ones that wanted to read it would, and those that didn’t, wouldn’t.
No. My problem was and still is I want to tell the truth. I don’t want to sugar coat the hard stuff or gloss over the pain. I want to say the things that sometimes make us uncomfortable, and I want to be honest about my own struggles as well. At the same time, though, I don’t want to fall into the trap of thinking that the whole world has a right to know everything in the name of “vulnerability” and that being self-deprecating is not only cool but a necessary way to get people to read our stuff.
No thanks.
I still don’t have the answer to my dilemma, so until I do, I imagine my blogs will still be sporadic at best.
Today, though, I need to share something that has been bubbling for sometime. Because I KNOW that I am not the only one struggling with this. And I am CERTAIN that someone else needs this reminder.
It’s been a little over 2 years since our lives were totally changed, and Hubs and I took over as directors of our ministry here in Guatemala. Those that walked with us during that transition know that it not only came as a complete surprise, but also that it was a very difficult season for us personally, spiritually, and professionally. I think most people assume that finally get to be at the top of the ministry you have served and loved for over a decade would be the icing on the cake, but for us it was hard. It was sad. We experienced hurt. We walked through new emotions like feelings of abandonment and betrayal. We often felt confused, scared, and inadequate.
It will forever be one of those seasons that leaves its mark on us forever.
One thing that we learned for sure, though, is that God is faithful. He is perfect. And He is a good, good Father.
So while a lot of healing had to happen in our hearts and at times even with others, God was and continues to be faithful. He continued to awe and surprise us at every juncture, reminding us that we weren’t in this alone and that He was ultimately the One in charge. We only needed to continue to obey and say YES as He continued to call us out into more unfamiliar and at times rough waters.
A couple of weeks ago, though, I had another one of those time stands still, mark this moment kind of experiences. Without sharing all the intimate details, I will say that it involved one of my children sharing some very honest feedback with a trusted adult about me. It came from a place of love and not of hurt or even anger, but the root of what was being shared was that my children felt like they had a Mama that was either too busy/absent doing her ministry work or was physically present in the home but impatient, frustrated, and often resorting to things like yelling and losing her cool. Praise God that this trusted adult loves my children and me enough to speak honestly with me about this conversation because otherwise I never would have even known.
But let me say it was one of the most painful and humiliating experiences of my life. It wrecked me. I felt devastated, worthless, like a failure.
Unfortunately, though, life doesn’t actually stop and time doesn’t really stand still when we are confronted with these kind of life changing moments. So while internally, I was trying to come to grips with this revelation, I didn’t actually have time for 2 more days to really process and grieve what I had heard.
Nevertheless, when the floodgates finally opened, they opened, and I wept like I hadn’t wept maybe ever. It was the kind of grief that I have only experienced when I have lost a loved one. Even physically I was wrecked, as it was followed by a migraine and vomiting. The problem for me at the time was I couldn’t even put words to what I was experiencing. What exactly was I crying about? Why did I feel as if I was mourning someone or something? I didn’t know. All I knew was that hearing that my children felt that way had confirmed all my worst fears about being in full-time ministry.
And I just didn’t know what to do! “Do I quit my job? Do I stay home with the kids full time? Do I pull back my hours? God what do I do????? Please just tell me what to do!” These were the only muffled words I could articulate over the next few hours. (Praise Jesus my kids were at school, so I could do all this in the privacy of my home by myself.)
I honestly don’t know what Jacob felt like as he wrestled with God, but that is the closest picture I can use to describe what that morning felt like for me. About 5 hours into this battle or struggle or grieving process (I still don’t have a name for it), my husband sends me a text.
“My lady, I just got this text from C. She said that during a time of prayer and intercession this morning, God laid this word on her heart for you.”
Now before I share with you what she said, I need to clarify that I have only met C. a handful of times. We have never had an actual one on one conversation and have only been in each other’s presence in a large group of people. She has worked with Hubs organizing a few activities for the kids at our ministry, but that’s it.
But on this very morning, as I was struggling to understand what God was doing with me, she received this word from Him for me…
“When you see yourself with too much responsibility and you look around and see the huge ministry that God has given you, and you begin to think that you are not prepared and that someone else could being doing it better, remember these words. I AM THE GOD OF ABRAHAM, ISAAC, AND JACOB, AND I SAY TO YOU: I chose you. I called you Sara. I have prepared you. I have equipped you. You will be the mother of many that I love. And as you love them, they will experience my love as if I was wrapping them each in a hug. I love and protect those than love and care for my orphaned sons and daughters. YOU ARE CALLED SARA BECAUSE SINCE YOUR YOUTH YOU WILL BE THE MOTHER OF MANY!”
Wow. That was all I could say as I read these words. The tears had stopped because I physically was unable to produce more, but I was in shock.
I need you all to understand that I grew up in a very conservative, Southern Baptist church. I never understood this business of having “a Word from the Lord.” The only Word that I believed to be true was the Bible itself. But after living in another country for most of my adult life, I understand now that yes the Bible is the only inerrant Word of God. Nevertheless, God does speak to us today, and we would be missing out big time if we ignored these words as well.
Because how else do you explain a word that powerful and that timely from an almost stranger during the exact time of a major spiritual crisis??
Only God. Only He can do the impossible.
I wish I could say that this opportune encouragement fixed it all for me. I suddenly had all the answers, and I suddenly understood exactly what I had to do.
No friends that did not happen.
What did happen, though, was that I was reminded that God loved me. He loves me. He lavishly loves me, and that He sees me. My grief matters to him in that same way that my kids’ grief matters to me.
Only it matters even more because He is not only my Father but also my Creator and nothing, nothing about me goes unnoticed.
I can take my troubles and anguish to Him and not only will He comfort me as any good Daddy does, but He has the actual answers to my problems as well.
It has taken me a couple of weeks to understand what was happening inside of me that day. Even though I found comfort in the care of my good, good Father in heaven, I still didn’t understand what exactly I was supposed to do. Knowing God loved me and was with me still didn’t answer my questions as to what I was being asked to do specifically.
Was I ruining my children? Could I still be in ministry and be a good wife and mother? Was I even supposed to do both?
It came slow but it came. There is no formula, but as I just sat quiet and listened, the whisper came.
Trust. He was asking me to trust Him.
He showed me that the last 2 years, I have desperately been trying to do everything physically in my power to protect my husband and our family and this ministry against unfair criticism or painful disparagement. I overworked myself to make sure that the pain and betrayal we felt 2 years ago never happened again. Without anyone’s permission, I propped myself up as the ultimate defender of my husband and his leadership and our ministry.
It wasn’t that I didn’t trust my husband to do a good job. Truthfully, he has become a better leader than I could have ever imagined. He is faithful, honest, just, generous, true, and lavishly loves his people and our kids. God has taken him to heights I never thought possible. Our ministry continues to grow and mature because my husband starts and ends every day the same, on his knees asking God to lead him so he can lead others well.
No. My self-imposed position as a Defender of All was from one thing: fear. Fear of being hurt. Fear of being abandoned. Fear of being betrayed. Fear of getting it wrong.
So I worked too hard. I spent too many day and night hours trying to find the right solutions. I attended every meeting, every conference, and every seminar. If someone called and needed help, I was there. I did everything physically possible to be in all places at all times so no one would have any reason to hurt us again with their words.
Except guess what?! Some people did anyway. Why you ask? Because people are people…yesterday, today, tomorrow…people are still people. The Israelites complained about Moses, David, and everyone in between. The disciples heard it. Paul was imprisoned over it. And lest we forget, Jesus was killed because of it.
Sometimes people criticize because they are right and something does need to change and as leaders we need to always be surrounding ourselves with people that will tell us the truth even when it hurts. I love when Moses’ father in law gently tells Moses that he needs help. He is trying to do too much. Nathan did the same for David.
But sometimes people criticize because they just are hurt or jealous or because they don’t have the whole story.
In the end, it doesn’t really matter why they do. What matters is that we have a choice in how we respond to it.
I decided to work myself silly, hurting myself and my family in the process, in hopes that it could be avoided. Some people get angry and lash out at others. Some people get insecure and start making decisions just to please the majority. Some just ignore it completely and continue on their merry way.
The best leaders, though, I think learn how to receive it, chew on it, and swallow what is good and helpful and spit out that which was only said with intentions of tearing down and dividing.
Good leaders understand that criticism is part of the package. We can’t run away from it, and we can’t even defend or protect ourselves against it. But more than that, good leaders, and I would say good spouses, parents, teachers, friends, and neighbors also understand that we will never on this earth be everything to everyone. We shouldn’t be. We are getting it all wrong if we think we are.
Only God can be their all.
What God does is He invites us in. We get to stop being spectators and get to start participating. We get to actually get sweaty and dirty and experience the thrill of the game. But we also will get hurt. We will be disappointed. We will be offended. We will even mess up. Some people may stop liking us in the process. Some brothers and sisters in Christ may even walk away from us or turn their backs on us when we need them the most.
But God won’t. He doesn’t. He extended the invitation, so He will be right there with us the whole time. We just obey. We just trust Him. We honor Him. We look to please Him instead of man. Along the way, we also learn to forgive and to be forgiven. We understand what true transformation and restoration looks like.
But this can’t happen until we say Yes…until we RSVP and tell Jesus we are all in. We show up. We get it wrong and sometimes we get it right.
I have been messing up big time. I thought I could do it by myself. I thought that I was strong enough, smart enough, godly enough, nice enough, and a plethora of other “enoughs.” But I am not. And part of the consequences of thinking I was enough came in hearing some very painful words from my own children, and then having to look in the mirror and realize that not only were the words painful but they were true.
I tried so hard to avoid giving anyone any reason to criticize when the most painful criticism of all came from my most beloved ones.
But there is hope.
I am Sara. I was called by God. I was chosen by Him. He prepared me and equipped me. He goes before me. I am His and only His.
He has called me by name. Sara. He loves me. He knows me. He chooses me.
And that, well, that is enough.
