Too Much and Not Enought

Facebook    I talk too much. My house is too chaotic. My kids are too wild, and I laugh too loud. I trust too easily. I cry too frequently. I eat too much sugar. I lose my temper too often, and I leave too many things half way done.

I’m not strong enough. I don’t bite my tongue as often as I should. I don’t vacuum the stale Cheerios out of my car until they reach critical mass. I don’t always speak up when it’s needed. I’m not as patient with my kids as I should be, and I haven’t memorized enough Scripture.

I am too much, and I am not enough. Really, a lot of the time I feel like a disorganized, impatient, emotionally charged mess.

So what makes me think I can handle uprooting my family and making a life on a mission field half way across the world?

I remember my mom saying that she kept looking for a halo to descend when her feet touched the hot Manila tarmac.  After all, she had given up everything and taken a young family to serve God in the Philippines. But it never happened. That halo never did show up.

    Here’s the dirty little secret of the missions world… Missionaries are PEOPLE.

Like, the kind of people who get stressed and yell at their kids. The kind who sometimes get so homesick that it’s hard to function. The kind who have conflicts with their neighbors and let their friends down. The kind who deal with marriage issues, depression, sinful desires, and inappropriate reactions.

The kind of people who are too much and not enough.

The truth is that I don’t have what it takes to be a missionary. Nobody does.

Even the apostle Paul said, “I came to you in weakness with great fear and trembling.” (1 Cor. 2:3 NLT)

Yep. That’s me. Weak and trembling. And not a halo in sight.

But this girl is choosing to move forward, step after shaky-kneed step, and as I do I’m seeing the beautiful truth of some words God spoke to Paul.

    “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” (from 2 Cor. 12:9)

And the fear is giving way to a quiet confidence in God’s goodness, in his strong grace flowing through my brokenness.

Yes, I am too much. I am not enough.

But that’s ok, because it’s not about what I bring to the table.

It’s about simply showing up at my place at his table as he lays out the banquet of the ages.

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