You are enough.

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I battle with enough. It’s something I have, in my mind, never been.

I didn’t know what enough looked like, but, I knew that I had never attained it.

I have been trying to trace back through time to find out when it was that I realized this “lack” in my life. I honestly do not know. At some point in time, I became my worst enemy. At some point in time, I started believing lies.

I do, however, remember a defining moment in my life when someone very close to me looked me in the eyes and asked, “Shara, who would ever want you?”

I think it stuck with me. 26 years of singleness seemed to prove this person correct. No one. No one wanted me. And, this must mean that it is because I am not worth wanting. I do not possess what makes someone worth wanting. I am not enough. Not pretty enough. Not smart enough. Not funny enough. Not social enough. Not talented enough. Not skinny enough. Not Godly enough.

I am not enough.

I’ve carried this weight for so long. This emptiness. This heightened sense of inferiority. Always lesser.

I see it in my friendships as well. Never feeling as though people really want to be around me. That I am not worth it. I am not as likeable as other people. People would rather be around someone else.

At times I have tried so hard to become. To be. To be enough.

I tried to be enough for more than half my lifetime in theatre. I could be anyone. I could finally be the leading lady–the one the men wanted. I could be the villain. I could be the comic relief leaving the audience in stitches. And, I could make them cry. I didn’t have to be me. I could finally be enough. Or, at least, try to be. Living for the applause. Living for the pat on the back. The approval of people that would, at last, prove to me that I was enough.

How often the inner legalist in me has fought to save myself. Trying desperately to earn what I have already graciously and freely received in Christ. To be my own hero. To be worthy. To finally be enough.

I fought and I fought and I fought.

And, one day, eight months ago, I got sick. And, I have been bedridden for a great deal of these several months. It is often hard for me to “do”. I can only simply “be”.

And, in my valley of darkness, Jesus says to me that I am enough. When I can do nothing, I am enough. When I am broken, I am enough. When my legs don’t work, I am enough. When I can’t open my eyes, I am enough. I am beautiful. I am treasured. I am precious. I am valued. I am worthy. I am enough.

My Father loves me because He loves me. My worth does not go up with what I can do, or what size jeans I wear, or how talented I am, or how funny I can be, or how many guys ask me out. I am passionately loved by the God of the universe. He gently holds me in His arms and He repeats, “Stop striving my precious, daughter. You are enough. Rest, rest, my beautiful one. You have always been and will always be enough.”

So, perhaps you have forgotten. But, you are enough. Rest, rest, my beautiful friend. You have always been and will always be enough.

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