Not Enough

Imagine us gathered together with a group of architects and builders. We've been summoned from all over the country because, as the man up front explains, we’re the best. There is no one more skilled or that can do better work. At first the compliment makes me feel good, but as the man continues to explain our task, I start to worry. Apparently God Almighty wants to come and dwell among men, and He wants us to build Him a house.

It isn't just any house, either. The perfection required in our work is mind-boggling. And on top of that, God Himself gave the plans, which must be followed exactly. As our leader's words sink in, I wonder how in the world anyone ever thought I could help with this project. I can’t remember ever doing absolutely perfect work and, even worse, I’m a sinner. I’m not good enough, not holy enough, not surrendered enough. If I dare to touch God’s house, I’ll mess it all up.


First chance I get, I catch our inspirational spokesman for a private chat. “I can’t do perfect work,” I complain. “I’m not good enough to work on God’s house. You’ll have to find someone else!”

He doesn't even blink. “You’re our best choice. No one else is better qualified for what you must do.” I continue arguing my case, but he stands firm. As I turn to go, feeling utterly hopeless, he stops me with one last sentence. “You aren't good enough, that’s true. But God has chosen you to work on His house, and He will give you the talents you need.”

Those words change everything.

Of course, that’s just an imagined scenario, but the reality is that it’s incredibly easy to let the “not enough’s” of life define who I am. You know: How I’m not friendly enough, not caring enough, not disciplined enough.... The list goes on and on. But the truth is that even though I’m not enough, my life has been purchased in blood, and my true identity can only be found in the life given on Calvary.

When I put my gaze on the “not enoughs” of life, I forget that God loves me and that I am His treasured child. On the other hand, when I base my identity in Him, all the “not enoughs” don't loom so large anymore. Rather, I can be confident that there is grace enough for my every need, and that He is more than willing to take what I can give and make it enough in Him.

God may not call you to build Him a literal house, but you can be certain that He will call you to a task that is utterly beyond you. When this happens, what will your reaction be? Will you acknowledge your utter dependence on God and stand in absolute surrender, willing to be spent and used—or will you cry that you aren't good enough?

I want my response to be a life of absolute surrender, so that God can use me in my weakness to accomplish impossible things.