Do you struggle with feeling like you are not enough?
I think if we are honest, we all do. We wouldn’t have stores full of “just because I think it will change how I feel about myself” stuff if we didn’t all fight feelings of “less than” in one way or another. “You are not enough” has to be one of the things the enemy likes to whisper in our ears more than almost anything else.
And why not? It works very well to keep us chasing after anything and everything we can to make those feelings go away. After all, it can be so much easier to listen to the enemy than it is to believe the truth of what God says.
If you have read many of my stories, you will know that I sometimes refer to movies I have watched. I have even written about this one before, but there is a different part that I want to revisit.
If you have never seen The Passion of the Christ, maybe even choosing not to because you caught wind of its brutality, you likely still know what it is about. You know that it gives us just the slightest glimpse at what our Jesus went through on our behalf. But I am not going to talk about the scourging and the cross this time. This time, I just have to talk about the curtain.
If you have ever been interviewed for a job, I would be curious to know how you enjoyed it. Or didn’t.
When I was younger, I never dreaded the interview process. I even welcomed it. If I interviewed for a position with a company, I was certain before I even left that I was going to be offered the job; my knowledge was that good and my experience was that solid. Sometimes I was offered the job before I even left the interview.
Then, life happened and filled my resume with bullet holes. Now when I am asked to fill out an application, in the spaces marked “Please explain any gaps in employment” and “Why did you leave?” I want to write, “How long have you got?”
A guy that attended my high school had gotten baptized. Up to that point, he had been living a life that was contrary to God’s desires for him, and he had finally come to the realization that he could have God’s forgiveness.
Well, kind of.
I was singing an old hymn one day, one I had learned in my childhood at my little country church. I had long since memorized the words, and hadn’t really thought much about them until this one time when something seemed really out of place. “Years I spent in vanity and pride, caring not my Lord was crucified, knowing not it was for me he died on Calvary.” Okay, so that part wasn’t untrue. But, then I got to the chorus. “Mercy there was great, and grace was free,” and that’s where I stopped.