by Christina Hubbard
It’s our natural bent to block out
The voice of our parent
At a certain age.
Guidance takes us to the edge
Of will and choice.
Once my guardian warned me
Of danger in black night.
I drove away anyway, headstrong.
What waited, lurking,
Were hungry creatures
Who only craved my meatiness.
Their eyes, sallow, could not see
The gleaming gift to be honored in all.
I, too young, wanted them to tell me
I was beautiful.
On a warm night, I ran
Home, looked my protector in the eye,
Saw piteous love.
Still I hear those creatures, snarling
So loud I cannot listen.
Love from a Fellow Creative
“Enough,” came the whisper on the wind.
As quickly as the word came, I batted it away as you would an annoying fly on a hot summer’s day.
My mind processed the word enough so quickly and spit it back out, that I imagine even God looked on in surprise.
The old me reacts and dismisses it as if I never heard the word or believe it describes me. The new me pauses, listens intently and turns to God in a posture of questioning “is this me? And other times I receive this gift in humble acceptance.
Believing we are enough comes when we hand over the rough edges of our brokenness for God to smooth and refine with his love. It is knowing we are always in a state of becoming and that is okay. God loves our messy, beautiful selves.
Next time you feel not enough, name the lie that invades your soul. Turn away and claim God’s truth. Thank God for new mercies each day and bottomless patience. Grab the truth that shouts enough because God claimed it for you first.
–Mary Geisen, writer and photographer. MaryGeisen.com
Are your ears awake? Listen. Listen to the Wind Word, the Spirit blowing through the churches. I’ll give the sacred manna to every conqueror; I’ll also give a clear, smooth stone inscribed with your new name, your secret new name. -Revelation 2:17