That Will Be Enough
Midweek monsters are welcome here.
After decades of moralistic religion mixed with German work ethic, I sometimes struggle to see Jesus as He is. On mornings like this, when my list is long, my energy low, and some respiratory demon is gurgling in my chest, the presence of One who welcomes all without restraint is hard for me to find.
I want to earn my way into Wednesday. I want to get ahead before noon. Read the exact right amount of news and skip all the Buzzfeed articles. I want to close my Twitter tab. I want to get in a walk AND a trip to the gym. I want to only eat vegetables today. But I don’t want all of that nearly as much as I feel as I should.
It seemed tempting when I kicked off this restart to my writing to commit to writing every day through Lent. It would be this “THING” we could do together. But you and I, we don’t need one more THING, one more program, one more task on our march to self-worthiness.
Maybe you need what I need today. To clear the fog of all my well-intended worth-making and to meditation on these truths:
- There is nothing more that must be done.
- God’s presence is perfect in this moment.
- Your feelings are not reality.
- You do not have to make yourself, you are being made.
I believe the core ethic of Jesus and the movement He pressed into the world was “welcome.” Jesus with unvarnished courage welcomed all that came to Him: friends, enemies, parties, silence, crowds, loneliness, pain, sickness, laughter, the expectations of others, and the violence the unwelcoming world.
I believe our best chance to embody Jesus in this life, toward ourselves, toward each other, and toward the world we choice-by-choice build together, is to welcome.
So today, I welcome the antibodies congesting my lungs. I welcome the midweek weariness. I welcome the sun rising. I welcome the questions of what it means to write, and push send, and believe what I have to give is worth giving. I welcome the election results. I welcome you, who take the time to read this, who choose to ingest our shared vision into your guts. I welcome all your doubts, unmet hopes, manufactured pretenses. I welcome all the midweek monsters. Yours and mine.
I welcome this day. And that will be enough.