Enough Already

Last week my 10-year-old hopped in the car after school and proceeded to give me a rundown of the day’s events. Usually, it’s pretty standard stuff; quizzes she took, what she chose for lunch, the newest skill she’s learning in P.E, or drama she witnesses between friends. But on this particular day, Providence said, “I think my English teacher was having a hard day today.” When I asked what made her say that, she said matter of factly, “Well, when we came back to homeroom Mrs. K was sitting at her desk. The lights were off and… she had a bucket on her head.” I looked up at my daughter through the rearview mirror. “Seriously?” Prov just shrugged and said, “Ya, I think she’d just had enough and needed a dark, quiet space.” My heart went out to dear Mrs. K. I wondered how long she’d been under there. Poor thing. “Well, some days are just like that, especially for teachers,” I said. “Did you say anything to her?” Prov replied, “I went up to her, gently tapped on the bucket, and asked her if she was okay. She said she just needed a minute.” I nodded in understanding. That night my daughter looked up Bible verses and wrote them out for her teacher, hoping to give her some encouragement. Bless her heart.

I can only imagine what went down in a 4th grade English class that caused a capable, smart, perfectly sane woman to sit in total darkness and don a bucket over her head. As far as coping mechanisms go it’s pretty brilliant though, don’t you think? We’ve all had days or years (I’m looking at you 2020), when we just can’t cope anymore; days when we just have to say, “Enough already.” What can we do when we reach our wit’s end? Tempting as it is, we can’t very well shut out the world and retreat. We have people counting on us. We have expectations to meet, duties to fulfill, families to care for, and showers to take. (I threw that last one in there for good measure, because let’s be real, sometimes the bar just needs to be lowered on hard days.) We can take a walk, a nap, escape into a good book for a while, sit out on the porch with a beverage of our choice, call a friend or a therapist, (or if you’re blessed like me, call your best friend who also happens to BE a therapist). But first, it’s important to understand what brought us to the end of our rope. 

I’m certain I’m not the only parent who finds themselves saying, “That’s enough!” to their children (usually in a shrill, strained voice that borders on psychotic). I’ve had enough of the bickering, the back talk, the eye-rolling, the snarkiness, and the whining; pick your poison, but there’s always something. Enough, by simple definition, means to have as much or as many as required (thank you Merriam-Webster). So really what we’re saying when we’ve had enough, be it our children’s bad attitude or a decadent dessert, is that we can’t handle anymore. We don’t need it. We don’t want it. Our tanks are full, (not in a good way), and any bit more will cause us to overflow, snap, or lose our ever-loving minds. Enough is, well, enough. It’s a declaration, a handheld up in resistance to anymore. It’s a bucket over our heads, sending a clear message that we’ve had it. But it’s also a question, isn’t it? Haven’t you ever asked yourself: Did I do enough? Am I contributing enough? Am I smart enough? Do I have enough? Am I strong enough? Am I brave enough? Is there enough time? Am I enough? I’m willing to bet the weight of at least one of those questions is what’s led us to our own under-a-bucket moments. 

I could fill pages with examples of times when I questioned whether or not I was enough: for my husband, my kids, or my friends. I lacked the strength, the patience, the energy, the giftedness, or the time. I didn’t have enough of any of those things. The pressure I’ve felt to be everything to everyone has been enormous, so much so that just one more straw would break my back. A phone call from the school nurse, a slow-moving 6-year-old during the morning rush, or a last-minute request from a friend could have me reaching for the bucket and saying, “Nope. Can’t do it. I’ve had enough.” In those moments we need to remember what we lack in patience, God has in spades. When our strength falls short, God’s strength prevails. Where our fear feels paralyzing, God steadily leads us on. When we don’t have enough, He does, always. Unlike us, He has no limits. His wits have no end and neither do His mercies. 

Sometimes, we need to step away for a minute. My kids will tell you I do this often. I just need to regroup and pull myself together before I say or do something totally UN-Christlike. (Okay, full disclosure: sometimes I walk away because I’ve done something Un-Christlike, and I have to check my heart and swallow a big dose of humility before returning to the table. This happens often. As in, this morning.) It’s okay to clock out if it helps you. Turn the lights off and duck under a bucket, (or whatever “clocking out” needs to look like for you). But might I suggest you do some praying while you’re under there? You may be familiar with 1 Peter 5:7 which says, “Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you.” It’s comforting and it’s true. But the verse preceding it shouldn’t be missed. “Humble yourselves,” it begins, “therefore, under God’s mighty hand, that he may lift you up in due time,” (v. 6) Before we unload our worries, our burdens, or whatever it is that’s led us to throw our arms up in the air and say, “Enough,” we must begin with humility. We need to start by admitting we don’t have enough to be everything to everyone or to do it all. We can’t offload the weight we carry without first confessing we trust Him to carry it for us, because we’re incapable. Bottom line? We are not enough, not without God. 

In 2 Corinthians 12, the apostle Paul describes struggling with “a thorn in my flesh, a messenger of Satan, to torment me. Three times I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from me” (v. 7-8). I can’t speak to what Paul was dealing with exactly, but I can certainly relate to that “thorn in my flesh” feeling. For teachers, it may be a particular student (calling them a “messenger of Satan” seems a little severe, but we all know every class has that one kid that makes you wonder from which realm they were sent). It may be a co-worker, a family member, a professor, or something else altogether that constantly pushes your buttons and shoves you right up to the brink of your sanity. God’s response to Paul’s struggle is what we all need to hear; “But he said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness,” (v. 9). “Sufficient” is just a fancy word for enough, and God’s grace is just that: it is as much as we require. It’s all we require. So before you place that bucket over your head, flip it over and dump out all your frustrations, anger, anxiety, and fear. Give it a good shake. Next, turn it back over and imagine it’s been filled to the brim with God’s grace. Then gently overturn that bucket and set it over your head like a crown. Let His grace wash over you. Sit humbled in the dark, quiet space, and know you have enough to get through.