I wanted to scream.
Actually, I did, calling for help. I had just opened the door and found my patient coding. Our team jumped into action performing life-saving measures. I cradled my patient’s head and brushed her hair out of her eyes. Orders were being shouted. EMS was being called.
I thought of her husband. How he told us to do whatever we could to take care of her.
I thought of how it wasn’t enough. We didn’t have enough hands, equipment, time, knowledge. I wanted to do more, give more. I watched her shallow breaths as she was wheeled out the door.
Have you ever felt like you just aren’t enough? Or just don’t have enough?
This is not limited to our current COVID crisis. Scenes like the one above have become my new normal, and to say it’s heartbreaking, is not quite the word. There’s a numbness that comes with giving your all and not being able to make the difference.
In the medical field, it’s just one of the, er, perks of the job. But I think we can all relate to the feeling of giving until you can’t give anymore, and it’s still not enough.
It makes you feel like you yourself are not enough. It makes it seem as though the path to Jesus is too much. Maybe meant for others, but surely not us.
Instead, we are left standing in the hallway, staring at the aftermath. Picking up piece after piece, turning each over in our hands teasing apart how different choices here and there may have caused a different outcome.
And at the end of the day, it’s easy to feel empty. Defeated. Yearning for resolution.
My kids love to curl up in my lap when they are anxious or hurting. I remind myself to cherish these moments, even as I’m dreading 2AM when I will inevitably hear “Mommy, will you come check on me?” as my 4-year-old has recently developed a quick-lived fear of the dark.
But this desire for closeness is sweet now. The adult version looks more like asking your mama if you can move back to your hometown when life feels too overwhelming.
It’s the same desire – comfort and familiarity. We want to be fully known and fully loved. We want to do more, be more, have more. We look around and see everyone who already is more. We get so busy scrolling down, that we end up turned around.
At that junction, we may feel like God has abandoned us.
Could it be that our attention has just been elsewhere?
I am reminded of a sermon I listened to this summer in which the speaker said when we feel like we’ve lost the faith we once had, it may be because we left it.
Do. Look. See. Turn. Feel. Left.
These are all action words. They mean that we have to make a move. God doesn’t ask you to be enough and to solve all of the worlds’ problems. No, but He does call you to intentionally seek him, to be in communion with him, and to surround yourself with others in fellowship.
We’ve gotten used to taking wrong turns and winding up somewhere off the mark.
It seems like it has become normalized to try and get back your roots by jumping in feet first to religion. Playing the part only gets you so far, though, and doesn’t really do much to satiate that sense of unfulfillment.
When I was a youth, we always celebrated Lent with a memento of sorts to remind us of what we had given up. Throughout the season, we would carry a rock that represented our sins and whatever we had decided to forgo. At the end of the season, if we had successfully adhered to the rules of Lent, we could keep the rock. Otherwise, we got rid of it or turned it in.
The goal is to show you that we are unable to meet the perfection of Jesus. However, I, like the Pharisees, took great pride in keeping the “law” to the letter. I was proud of my rock and that I was able to keep it. I had worked hard for it and did exactly what I was supposed to.
But I had missed the whole point. Keeping the rock and being able to say I did it did not bring me the peace and joy I so longed for.
What I now know, is that Jesus through the Holy Spirit fills those spaces where we feel inadequate. His peace and contentment infiltrate our minds and flush out those thoughts the enemy places there that say “You’re not good enough.”
We know the enemy comes to steal, kill, and destroy. And he does that with our minds, yall. It is so important that we don’t get too caught up in keeping our rocks and, instead, remember to keep taking steps and moving towards a deeper relationship with Christ.
So, what is the turning point? Surrender. Leave what’s happened and move on. Allow Him to show you what that looks like. It won’t be on your timeline, but once you begin walking with him, all of that anxiety and impatience will be more tolerable knowing that someone’s got your back.
He is the one who moves the stone. He told the rock to move on the third day in order to overcome death.
What is your rock? What are you clinging to, hoping it will fill you?
You aren’t enough. What you are trying to do isn’t enough. But Jesus is. The things you are holding onto, all your past hurts and disappoints aren’t enough to keep you from him.
Ask God to roll the stone.
Matthew 27:59-60 “Joseph took the body, wrapped it in a clean linen cloth, and placed it in his own new tomb that he had cut out of the rock. He rolled a big stone in front of the entrance to the tomb and went away.
Deuteronomy 32:4 “He is the Rock, his works are perfect, and all his ways are just.”
Psalm 19:14 “May these words of my mouth and this mediation of my heart be pleasing in your sight, Lord, my Rock and my Redeemer.”
Psalm 34:14 “Turn from evil and do good; seek peace ad pursue it.”
Acts 26:17 “I will rescue you from your own people and from the Gentiles. I am sending you to them to open their eyes and turn them from darkness to light, and from the power of Satan to God, so that they may receive forgiveness of sins and a place among those who are sanctified by faith in me.”