I’m too much…
and at the same time a deep nagging sense of being not enough…
not smart enough.
not pretty enough.
not happy enough.
not faithful enough.
simply… not enough.
I’ll always be too much for people and not enough.
In one sense, of course, that’s not true. It’s satan’s ploy to render me helpless and hopeless (and frankly it works a lot).
But in a very real way, it is truth.
I am too much and not enough for other people. We all are.
There’s a line from When Harry Met Sally (one of my all time favorite movies) where he tells her she’s “High maintenance. Definitely. And the worst kind. You’re a high maintenance who thinks she’s low maintenance.”
I really want to be low maintenance. I wish I was an easy going, baseball cap wearing, live life on the edge, carpe diem kinda girl. But I’m not. I’m a picky eating, obsessive, over analyzing woman who hates to sweat and looks lousy in a baseball cap.
But in truth, I’m not the only high maintenance human. As individuals, it seems we’re all high maintenance. Men. Women. Children. We’re all imperfect beings in desperate need.
Needing love, needing care, needing approval, needing acceptance, needing grace.
“But he said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.’ Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me.” ~2 Corinthians 12:8-10
So here I am today, boasting in my frailty, knowing that He is the “author and perfecter” of my faith…resting in the fact that He loves me just as I am…all too much and not enough of me.
He loves you too, friend, just as you are…