EnoughPosted on: February 2, 2023
As I gradually seemed to stir, I could faintly hear the nurses voices. Floating back into consciousness, the general anesthetic was starting to wear off. But it wasn’t the harsh light or the ticking clock that captivated by awareness. It was the silent tears, unexpectedly pouring down my cheeks, like heavy rain dripping down a window pain. Nothing could stop them from rolling. Glancing at the 6 inch deep file notes for my case on the side, it began to dawn that this was the sixth time I’d awoken in this way in the past six years.
The cancer had needed chemo. The chemo had weakened my bones. And the black ice I fell on severely broke my left ankle in three places. Here I was, twelve months on having the metal plates, pins and screws that had helped to rebuild the fractures, removed.
So why was I crying? It had caught me off guard, as much as the confused nurses. As I was wheeled back onto the ward, I turned to this question within. Reflecting back on the past six years, with more hospital appointments, procedures, poisonous chemicals and scans than I can even remember, here I was – praise God – cancer free. My broken ankle healed. My life, a bright future ahead. So what was there to cry about?
You see, I’d never seen any of it as something that ‘happened to me’. It was always something that God took for me. And to this day, I believe every part of it was a necessity for God to bring me to where I am now. I am so, so thankful for it all. Every day was simply part of my assignment, to listen, follow and obey His lead. But what I hadn’t banked on was the glorious and yet painful journey of growth that came along side that. Through it all, God had shown me so many blind spots, that I would never have otherwise been to with Him; Holding me in the fire until the lesson was won. And through it, perhaps the biggest breakthrough of all was not the physical healing, but the inner one.
And yet, even recently, there were times where I know I was still in the grip of my biggest nemesis, the ever-present thorn in my side: The urge to strive ahead of God’s timing. The inevitable pressure, disappointments and rejection that followed, still a weight bearing down and crushing me.
So what were the tears? They were tears of burden, tears of lament, tears of recognising that yet still, I am an unfinished work. They were the tears of surrender. The tears that said what my heart was crying. ‘Lord I am done. Enough. I give in. For six years I’ve fought the good fight to honour and obey. And yet still, I am a sinner. Yet still, I’m carrying the weight that only you can. Yet still, I’m forcing the way ahead. Yet still, at times I place ‘doing’ ahead of being with you.’
Release, relief and an indomitable sombre sense of ‘this is the end’ flooded through me. ‘ I can not do this any more’ came my cry. This was the place God had intended to bring me to all along: A full and absolute yielding. My soul was finally fully bowed before my Maker. And what a journey to get there!
The recognition alone carried in peace. That reassuring inner ‘yeeeeesssssss’ from Holy Spirit within. I was following His voice. And I could see my King, encouraging me forward into the commitment that was now required. One that I will need to work on every day, for the rest of my life. ‘Lord, I promise that from this day on, I will only do what you ask of me. Nothing else. Nothing less. Nothing more. I will no longer ‘try’, ‘push’, ‘negotiate’ or in any other way, move outside your Spirit. I will sink deep into you, for only you know the time. And only you know the way. You alone will be my enough.’
Today this is my public confession. The one to which God will hold me accountable. The one to which I now pledge. And the one to which only Christ in me, will enable me to fulfil. For now, all I can simply say is, ‘have your way Lord.’
‘Woe is me! for I am undone; because I am a man of unclean lips, and I dwell in the midst of a people of unclean lips: for mine eyes have seen the King, the Lord of hosts.’
Isaiah 6:5 NIV