Jesus is Enough – revisited

A few days ago, I wrote about how I was dealing with exhaustion and extreme mental, physical, and emotional fatigue. I said that I didn’t have the answers…nothing except Jesus is enough.

I want to revisit that statement, because the more I focused on it – Jesus is enough – the more I realized that this simple statement is the answer – the only answer I will ever need. There doesn’t ever need to be anything more. The writer part of me wants it to be more…maybe something a little more difficult to explain – perhaps something that needs more flowery words and impressive eloquence. But the truth of it is, Jesus is enough.

Like Peter, I was sinking because I took my eyes off of the fact that Jesus is enough. Little by little, I allowed the business of my life, the demands of my daily stuff to distract me at a soul level, from His hand reaching out to me, His words calling, “Come to Me! Keep your eyes on Me!” I looked down, and I realized that I’m standing on the water, and just like Peter, my faith turned to doubt – how in the world can I do this? I was experiencing extreme fatigue because of the struggle to stay afloat. Panic is exhausting!

I lost track of the fact that I’m not here because I’m the first human being to discover the supernatural ability of defying gravity, but because He has called me here. Without Him, I can do nothing. With Him, I can do anything.

The last two days have been filled with Him reminding me of all of the landmarks in my life. Every single time that He has rescued me, set me free, and broken chains – all with His mighty name. There is power in the mighty name of Jesus!

I am not a poet, but these words have come to me as I have refocused on Jesus.

Jesus is Enough

I used to think that these were cliché sounding lines.
You may have, too (at least a thousand times)…

“There is a God – in heaven above
Who looks at us all, down here – with love.”

Or how about, “He has a plan for you”?
and “don’t worry about those trials; He’ll see you through!”

I just walked away – and shook my head.
As far as I knew, that God was dead.

Because my reality – was inflicted pain,
And consequences brought – by my choices profane.

I repeated to myself, “You say He cares for me.
But with all of this pain, how can that be?”

So I gripped the hurt, and I cuddled the pain,
And I plastered a smile with a joy that was feigned.

With a shroud of doubt tightly ’round myself,
I boxed up those words and shoved ’em high up on a shelf.

Inwardly, I whispered – “it’s just the way you are.
It’s your destiny, your identity – the girl with a scar.”

Others said it was normal – or that I was just born that way –
That I could fill that hole – with whatever made me numb that day.

I’ll just go on pretending – that the emptiness isn’t there –
After all, what does it matter – that some distant God doesn’t care?

But – even though I tried – with all of my might,
I wished those weren’t false hopes – shoved far out of sight.

Because the pain of abandonment was still achingly there.
That need for someone to notice, and to maybe even care.

The dictator, bitterness, shook its fist in my face –
And dragged me again – to that dreaded place…

That was me sick – this is me healed.
That was me empty – this is me filled.

“But,” you may ask, “where is the pain – that you spoke of?”
My answer is quite simple – Redeeming Love.

Because, no other love can fill that aching hole,
The piece that is missing, in every human soul.

Please, friend, let me tell you how the aching was soothed.
Please, let me show you how that burden was removed!

Would you believe if I told you that it was all a facade?
That the one who’s doubt wearies us, was conquered by God?

Would it make any difference, in how you see your own life
To know He took on, all your cares – all your strife?

Would it help you to know, He’s felt your pain, too?
That He’s walked your same road; He’s worn your same shoes?

He knows how it feels to be misunderstood,
Completely abandoned – unnoticed, called “no good.”

He knows how it feels to be riddled with pain,
Except, He never deserved any of it – He never chose the profane.

Can you imagine being rejected – beaten – degraded
By the very ones, whom you had lovingly created?

Would you have stretched your hands out, to receive those spikes,
To be pounded through your wrists, with all of their might?

Would you have chosen to cry out with your very last breath
To plead forgiveness for those – causing your death?

Yet, this is exactly what He did for me – and for you, as well.
God in man-form, died, rose, and conquered hell.

(No other Savior has ever been able
To be born of a virgin, one holy night in a stable.
No other religious leader can reverse our doom.
No other religion can produce an historically-recorded, EMPTY tomb!)

No other death has ever lasted three short days
Only to be shattered by the great and mighty Yahweh!

No other grace can mend a broken heart
Or make sense of a past – torn all apart.

No other Healer, can heal both the pain –
Of the inflicted – or of our choices profane.

No other Friend forgives again and again,
Or has the power to lift you up – from a pit of sin.

He is the One, who decided whom you’d be.
You are chosen – adored, by a love deeper than the sea.

And nothing can separate you from that love.
Not demons from below or angels from above.

This world is full of pain – that much is true.
But, it isn’t our home – we’re just passing through.

So when you’re standing in the ocean, and the waves are rough
Lift your eyes and believe – Jesus is Enough.

 

 

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