When your best isn’t good enough

tumbleweed copy

It all crumbled slowly and subtly. Things usually do. You don’t see the fragility of it all until you’re right there in the middle.

The middle for me was on the way to a beautiful summer wedding. It had been a hard season for my family. Full time jobs and the second move in a year had left us exhausted and stretched to capacity. We had just come from a relaxing camping trip and were now attempting to get three adults, four kids, one dog and a camper trailer to the wedding of a good family friend.

It felt like we needed this. We needed it to go right. We needed some sort of relief. 

That relief didn’t come when we set out about an hour too late. As hard as I thought and as hard as I prayed, the clock didn’t stop. My dad was frustrated, the kids were crying. My mom was silent, knowing she would be late to the wedding of her best friend’s daughter. We drove along the highway as the tension rose in the car. I tried so hard not to cry as voices rose and verbal punches were thrown. Then our bikes start falling off our car, so we pulled down a dirt road in the middle of nowhere to fix them.

I jumped out of the car, trying to help. I could fix this if I just tried hard enough. Everything will be okay somehow, I kept telling myself. But it didn’t look like that. Standing there—in the dirt—in my black dress, red lipstick, and four-inch heels; I just held my breath. I felt nauseous.

I couldn’t do enough; I couldn’t BE enough.

I grew up with that child-sized view of superhero parents who could magically do it all. I continued through high school with straight A’s and the belief that it just takes more coffee, more effort, and more strife to get where you want to be. If you just try hard enough, you can make it.

But that’s not true.

I feel it strongly as of late. I feel it when just getting through the day is a struggle—when I have two parking tickets, loans on loans, and my shoes break apart when I’m finally walking home from class at 10pm. I feel it when friendships get messy—when you and your best friend have seasons of your life you’d rather not remember. I feel it when relationships don’t work and you’re left alone with all your questions. I feel it when families fight and your idealistic view on the happy home doesn’t match up with what you’re looking at.

Your best is not always good enough. You can cry, you can scream, you can pull all-nighters, you can work two jobs, and you can pretend you don’t feel any of it. But sometimes, none of that is enough. I realize what this is now. Today at Reality LA, the sermon gave voice to the things I couldn’t say.

We are limited. We are finite.

And—we can rejoice in those limits.

When we finally pulled up to the wedding, we parked our trailer across the street. We jumped out, set up a kennel, changed into suits, brushed off dog hair and ran to the wedding (or stutter stepped in high heels). We entered right before the actual procession began. The beautiful bride looked just like a princess—beaming with expectancy. We took our seats as “Take Heart” began to play and the flower girls began to walk down the aisle.

And I just started crying. We made it. There is no way that should have happened. And as I looked up at the cross in the front of the church, I saw it come to life for me. Through this small struggle in my life, I saw a beautiful portrait of our greater struggle.

This is the Gospel—the Good News: I’m not enough. I am finite. I am mortal. I’m not perfect and I mess up more times than people know. Despite all my efforts, I could not earn a place in heaven. My best just isn’t good enough. But God.

God knew that. He filled the gap for me when He sent Jesus to die on the cross and pay the price I could never pay. “He has overcome.” His grace goes beyond my limits.

This is why I rejoice in my limits, because His strength is made perfect in my weakness. I rejoice in messy friendships, tough relationships, and a family that isn’t perfect. Because God is, and I see his redemption written all over my life.

When friendships are redeemed, when my family makes it through to the other side of a difficult season; I know it’s not me. I can’t try hard enough; I am not enough. But He is. Through him, I am enough—because, He fills the gap.

He redeems and He makes all things new. His goodness is limitless and His grace never runs out. We can boast in our weakness, knowing that He will be shown strong through it all.

“I have learned to kiss the wave that throws me against the rock of ages.” – Charles Spurgeon


Screen shot 2013-09-01 at 2.08.15 PM




Tagged , , , ,

5 thoughts on “When your best isn’t good enough

  1. Bekah, when I think about the psalmist writing all of those songs from the highest heights and the lowest lows, I would venture to say he never thought that I would be reading them now and feel the exact same way, and that and in some mysterious way, his prayers would become my prayers. In a way I feel the same way about reading these words of yours. You see I feel the same way you do but I am on the other side of the story. I’m that Dad who in many ways wanted to be that hero that my kids look up to – to be able to set a good example and to give them a sense of calm that as long as dad is there everything will be okay. In my weakness this summer I think that I have experienced the blessed gospel of grace in ways I had not experienced sinced we moved to Nor. Cal. I feel like in the last year, all of my weaknesses and flaws have been exposed and my sense of “I can do it” and self sufficiency has been eroded. Like you, I have been fighting and striving and struggling and making every effort to make this place our home; to minister to a new group of people without them feeling the weight of the burden that I was bearing. To make my family feel like they’ve lived here all of their lives and to make your mom feel like I have been blessed by the environment of “home” that she’s been doing her best to create. But in all of these areas, I feel like my failures have been accentuated. Last Sunday was probably the most transparent I have been with this dear group of people I’ve been entrusted with to pastor. I broke down. And the thing that caused me to break down was the section of Scripture where Jesus tells Peter that he is going to fail and yet He is choosing him for this mission anyway. Jesus already knew that Peter would fail.

    Peter isn’t the hero of the story. Jesus is. Peter is a failure who trusts in the One who never fails. Peter’s faith-less. Jesus is faithful. But at the end of Peter’s life, Peter is crucified upside down because he doesn’t feel worthy to die the same way as his Lord. He finished well. I take heart in that because our stories are not finished yet. I know the ending will be good. I know that because He’s the One writing it and He will be faithful to complete it. (Phil. 1:6) I love you so much and I can’t tell you enough how blessed by you I am.

    Looking to Jesus,

    • Rebekah says:

      You almost made me cry when I got this notification in the middle of the grocery store! Thanks for always being an example for me to look up to and follow. I couldn’t follow a perfect person, but your faithfulness and steadfastness in the midst of trials has always been an example to all of us. I know you’re not perfect, but you can still be my hero. 🙂 I love you!

  2. DeAnna says:

    Beks I am not as eloquent as you or your dad but I wanted to say thanks so much for sharing your heart. Reading your posts are always a blessing and challenge as well as an opportunity to get a deeper glimpse at what the Lord is doing in and through you. I never expect you to be perfect but am so blessed by the beautiful young lady you are and the impact you are having on me and the world around you one word at a time.

    I love you Sunshine Bear…keep bringing the Sun and Son!!


  3. sarahrichter says:

    I love this. It made me cry because it just represents the struggle we all wrestle with day in and day out. And isn’t is the most gracious thing that sometimes God just allows things to be hard? So that we are, more or less, forced to realize that we are not in control and we can’t “fix” things? Only then am I shaken to a place where I can either wallow in my circumstances or be brought to my knees, a place where the most authentic worship takes place. I’m so encouraged by this. Thank you for being transparent and giving people a chance to say, “me too!” when they read this. God is good and He is enough.
    Love you so much!

  4. Lynda Varada says:

    Bekah, again you put words to print, so full of grace and wisdom, and in your transparency and obedience you are blessing so many people. Your family surely gets the front row, but there are rows and rows of people who are blessed by you and proud of who you are. Love you! 🙂

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: