Skip to main content

More Than Enough

Life is teeming with reminders of our need for God. Take today for example: I'm exhausted. I have this ridiculously sensitive body rhythm, and I messed it up yesterday. I went to St. Louis with a mother and daughter. The daughter is strongly considering an extended stay in Burkina Faso as a missionary. So the mother/daughter team that have been there/done that spent the day with the mother/daughter team in the early stages of going there/doing that. It was a great time. Ami and I both enjoyed sharing our experiences, and by their own admission, the time was profitable for the other mother and daughter; but for me, to talk for a full eight hours is waaaayyy past my conversation limit.

"Conversation limit?" Yep. Conversation limit. A previous boss used to cite some statistic about how many words an average woman speaks each day as compared to the average man. He'd see me talking and joke that I hadn't reached my quota for the day. My quota, however, is much lower than the average woman. I just can't keep up. As we get older, we get to know ourselves, and I've learned that for optimum physical, mental, and emotional energy, I need just the right balance of exercise, quiet concentration (i.e. accounting, reading, writing), and conversation. Spend a little too much time in any one of those areas, and my system goes on overload. It rebels, and the result is exhaustion. I've tried to fight it for years because I seriously aggravate myself, but it's to no avail. This is what God gave me to work with.

Of course, it's rare to find a day that passes with just the right balance. Life just isn't that controllable. So as I get ready for the long day ahead of me and wonder how I will get through it with this fatigue mulling in my blood along with a number of other "reminders" of my great lack simmering in my brain and heart, I am also reminded of His great strength, of His provision, of His faithfulness, of the fact that He is the Great I AM, and that is more than enough.

Comments

  1. Just popping in to let you know...still reading so keep writing!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thanks, Brad! I really appreciate that. Miss you guys!

      Delete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Resting...Resting?

A few weeks ago, my husband and I had dinner with our daughter-in-law and two of our grand children. My daughter-in-law lost her job a couple of months ago. I wanted an update on current job prospects or plans, so I asked, "What are you doing these days?" Her answer was simple and yet incredibly profound.              Resting. (Is that even a word in the American lexicon?) I'm proud of her, and of them, for making the decision that it's time for her to rest. She's been in hyper-drive for all the years I've known her (over 16).  That word has haunted me since she spoke it. Resting. What would happen if I...if you...gave it a try?  In Psalm 23: 6a, David says Surely goodness and mercy will follow me. In K.J. Ramsey's The Lord is My   Courage (page 240), she tells us that our English word, "follow," doesn't convey the power behind the original Hebrew word that David used (radaph). She tells us that radaph means "to pursue, chase, and pers

It's Time to Take off the Sunglasses

 Americans have a favorite pastime, and no, I'm not referring to baseball or football. This pastime doesn't cost any money. You don't need tickets, and there's no set game time. It happens every day. You don't need to be physically fit. You don't need special training. We do it at book club, at work, on the road, in meetings, having lunch with friends, etc. You get the idea. What is it? Complaining. We love to complain, and I'm right there in the fray, tearing everything and everyone apart. Sometimes it wears me out. My mom passed away many years ago, and one of my all-time favorite memories of life with her goes back to my summer between high school and college. We worked together that summer. Drove together every morning, bright and early, right into the rising sun. One morning, my mom reached into her purse and grabbed her sunglasses, putting them on just as we rounded the bend on the St. Louis-rush-hour-busy road that put us directly in the sun's pat

1%

Gideon: By his own admission, his family was the weakest of his tribe, and he was the weakest in his family (Judges 6: 15-16). Midianites: Big bullies who oppressed the Israelites back in the day. As the story goes, this little-nobody-Gideon is doing manual labor for his dad (I'm thinking that this might be akin to working at Walmart - not exactly a career - or even a job - that causes anyone to preen), when an angel calls him, "a mighty man of valor" (Judges 6: 12). Huh? Oh, you mean this other guy, right? Nope, I'm talkin' to you. Fast forward and we find this little-nobody-Gideon camping near Israel's oppressors with a team of 32,000. This seems like a lot until Gideon checks out the enemy and finds that there are so many Midianites and their pals, the Amalekites, that no one can count them. They seemed "like locust in abundance and their camels were without number as the sand that is on the seashore." (Judges 7: 12) Gulp. What does God