I read the blogs.
Their pain is palpable.
I feel it.
I see it, their words are full of wounds that seep through the computer screen.
Some full of the infection of bitterness.
They’ve been wounded.
Wounded by the ones that should heal.
Wounded by church leaders, by church members, by church.
I can identify with them.
We’ve all been wounded.
Sometimes intentionally, sometimes by the not knowing how to help, what to say, what to do.
I don’t like to read those blogs, their words.
It rubs my pride the wrong way.
It causes me to face that I’m not just the wounded, but the wounder.
Not intentionally, God, I hope not intentionally.
But I’m a leader who has failed.
I’m just not enough in the face of all their need.
Satan comes and repeats the mantra in my mind.
“You’re not enough. You’re not enough.”
And I know I’m not, so his words paralyze, and I decide to keep my “not enough” to myself.
I hoard my little loaves and fishes lunch, instead of letting it be broken and blessed and shared.
I listen to the half-truth, “You’re not enough…”, and let him leave off the rest of the sentence,
“…but God is more than enough.”
It is prideful arrogance that says, “I have to be enough.”
It is humility that says, “I am nothing, I have nothing, but in me lives the More Than Enough God.”
It is humility that offers up my paltry “not enough” loaves and fishes self, and lets God, break me, bless me, use me.
It is humility that says, we’re all the walking wounded, and I don’t have all the answers, but together let’s walk to the Wounded One whose wounds are for our healing.