He is My Enough

Today, the graham cracker crumbs have won. There are Legos scattered around the kitchen, tiny land mines waiting for unsuspecting feet. A load of laundry sits in the dryer for the third day, waiting to be folded and put away. The kids are happily sorting crayons into muffin tins by color, and I am feeling overwhelmed.

I expect things to be going better. I think that's my problem. I would like to get up early, have my quiet time, take a shower, do some housework. I would like to have a routine for the kids and myself that has us learning and crafting and not wearing pjs at noon. I would like to eat lunch.

Instead, I'm exhausted. I sleep like a vagrant--in the bed of a teething toddler, in the guest room with the baby, in my own bed, whispering soothing dreams and prayers over a frightened child. In the morning, I wake to sweet footsteps headed for my bed. I stumble through the day, feed them when they're hungry, read them stories, try to show them how very much I love them. I try not to lose my patience with their questions and demands. And every day I am reminded that my efforts will never be enough.

This is motherhood. It's different than I expected. It is beautiful and joyful and very, very hard. I'm a finite and sinful mom struggling with a task that's too big for me. I am not enough. I was never meant to be. But I know the One who is, and He fills in my not enough and makes it overflow. It brings him glory to do so.

I need to be reminded to rest in grace, and my kids need to grow up knowing that I'm not the one who holds it all together. Looking back, I want them to know that I loved Jesus and I loved them and that I offered up the broken pieces of my efforts and my life to the One who made it enough. So perhaps it is better for me to be confronted with my inadequacy each day. Perhaps it's better that I spend my days battling graham cracker crumbs and never-ending piles of laundry and my own selfish heart. It is better that I know that He is my enough.