Before school Ty suddenly collapsed with sobs. Headfirst in my lap.
People. This huge-hearted boy’s tension is always surrounding people. This time? School recess. As if the playground opens an overwhelming abyss of, how do I love and play with every person at once?
He shared about the day before. His buddy played with another friend. Two buddies joined up with two others. He stood alone. I went up and asked Lucas if he’d play with me, and then I gave him one of my loot (class money for the school store). “Thanks for playing with me,” he told his friend.
Ty bit his lip and sharp tears fell. Down went his head, where he buried it, once again, in my lap.
My heart broke.
You don’t have to pay him to play with you. You don’t have to give someone something to be your friend. You are enough.
Yet, I do this in my own way. Maybe you too? Adults are just big kids trying to get friends to play with us. I give compliments and encouraging words. They are genuine but I’m sure without meaning to what I’m really saying is, if I don’t say anything at all, am I enough?
Enough is a word much overused. You’re enough. You’re enough. You’re all enough.
We’re not though. We are enough, however, in our weakness. That’s when I’m enough. When you’re enough. I’m enough when I can confidently tell a friend, I compared myself today and felt small and she can say, I’m sorry. But that’s not true. Here’s what is true: you are enough in Christ.
Ty pulled up something deep that I wasn’t aware was within. When we bring our true selves to the table we risk being rejected. We feel exposed and bare. We open ourselves to be loved and by doing so, risk being told no. Or ignored. Or watch a friend go play with another. Maybe we’ll pair up with a friend for a recess game. Or maybe we’ll swing by ourselves.
This week I feel exposed. I feel flaily because there are a lot of dreams floating about in the great big universe that I’m waiting to hear back about.
I started Pasture back up; this time in my living room with the heartbeat of smaller and deeper. A safe space to talk about all the things and find complete permission, safety and soul nourishment. I’m convinced listening is what heals us from the inside out. Listening without fixing or offering advice, but to allow ourselves to be fully known and fully loved. Ten of us gathered and I felt humbled to sit among such transparency and raw honesty.
I made a video and asked Chip Gaines for a white barn. I blame Bobbie who emailed me his Chipstarter idea, where he invites people to share their dream and chooses someone to make that a reality! Ask him for a barn for Pasture, Bobbie encouraged. You bet I did!
I joined Ignite Your Book Marketing Team as the Soul Care Teacher and we shared about the exciting news online. It’s a dream that’s been in the work for months and now it’s out there. I feel vulnerable. Our whole team does. A scary beautiful vulnerability.
I recorded Choosing REAL on audio this week. I felt thankful but a small part of me also felt embarrassed that it’s been so long since my book released and I’m just now doing it. You know what I believe though? There’s a reason the timing is now. I feel expectantly vulnerable.
I have my second book proposal being pitched with no control over how the response will be. Vul.ner.able.
I’m praying and prepping to lead a women’s retreat. I’m coaching clients and hoping my words help bring out the truth and creativity that already exists within them. I’m risking disappointing friends with my full schedule, even though everything in me wants to fling papers off my desk and throw caution to the wind and go play with them.
Will you play with me? I want to ask. Gosh, are there any more vulnerable words than those?
And then the deeper thought: If you play with me now, what if you find someone or something better. Will you leave?
I understand our sweet Ty. I get his huge heart to love on all his buddies while simultaneously wanting someone to notice him.
Before he left I slipped a penny in his pocket. You see this word? I pointed.
One cent, he read.
Look for one friend that isn’t playing with anyone.
Love on one person.
Take one step.
Find one ounce of courage.
And know that one God is covering you with his more-than-enoughness today.
One is enough.
I’d love to see you this November: