During premarital counseling, I was (wisely) told that every man is constantly asking the questions, “Am I enough?” As a wife, I have the joy of reiterating with my actions and words that my husband-man measures up. A common phrase in our house is, “You are more.” More than enough, that is.
But this isn’t a question exclusive to men. They’re quest to prove themselves might be more identifiable and grandiose, but women ask this question too. Only we ask it on the subconscious, deep down where it’s almost unidentifiable. And – if you’re like me – it’s not being asked of the big things. It’s the little things. And those little whispers of the “Am I enough?” add up to a pretty big problem.
It’s not that I’m looking for the escape route out of hard work or the easiest path. It’s that I’m so exhausted come lunchtime and the to-do list so long.
Did I work hard enough today? Did I do enough housework? Did I play with Little Bear enough? Did I do enough laundry?
Never. There’s always more ways to serve the family. Always more ways to love.
When you’re asking, “Is it enough?” The answer is almost always never, purely from a bullet point perspective.
But when I ask husband-man this question, well, so went our conversation this afternoon.
“Did I do enough today?” I quietly ask, afraid of the answer. What I’m really asking is, It it okay that there’s laundry still piled and the sink is full of dishes? I know the answer, but the question remains.
Husband-man stops what he’s doing and joins me on the couch. He holds me hand in his, fingering my ring. “What does this say?” he asks.
“It says that we don’t use the word enough in our home.” I know the truth, but there’s power in speaking truth aloud.
“Why not?” he quietly asks.
“Because enough is works-based. Conditional love.”
He puts my hand down, smiles, and resumes his work.
There’s work to be done, and hard work is good for the soul. Hear that. But let this truth ring louder, you are enough. I could have sat on the couch all day reading, and husband-man still would have kissed my forehead with delight at the end of the day. I could be paralyzed in a hospital bed, doing nothing, and God would still delight in me, His child.
You are precious. You are enough. You are more.