Not Enough

I’m not strong enough. I cannot do it on my own.

I try, oh how I try. I pretend that I’m doing just fine. But I’m not strong enough. And it hurts to say that, to admit it to myself and to you. It actually makes me sick. Because I so badly want to be strong enough. Strong enough for myself, strong enough for my clients. But I am human. Just human. Human.

Now, some days I like being human. I’ve learned to enjoy moments of frailty. The other day I ran into someone I knew I knew, but didn’t know how. I chatted with them, pretending I knew who they were. It was funny and afterwards I enjoyed that feeling: feeling human. I have even started enjoying the fact that I bush when I’m nervous. Sounds ridiculous, I know. But I’ve learned to rejoice in my humanity, recognizing that it’s a gift. It’s beautiful. It’s to be treasured.
But this one part of my humanity I cannot rejoice in, the fact that I'm not enough to solve all my own problems and everyone else's. I cannot fathom how it could be a gift, and I certainly do not treasure it. I hate it.

Hmmm. I guess I thought I was so clever for taking pride in my humanness, so self-aware (superior even, and it’s hard to admit that!). But, I suppose it’s easy to accept that I forget names and blush; much harder to accept the shadow side of being human.

Can I truly accept myself and my humanity without cherishing both the lighter and darker sides? Could I find some way to also take joy in my inability to be strong enough? Celebrate my weakness? And not just in theory, but in deed?

I have a feeling there’s a lesson in here somewhere. And part one might in humility (Yes, Holy Spirit, I hear you loud and clear...).

Dang.

Heavy.

Yesterday I was light, I was happy. I was making a difference and impacting lives. I was showing unconditional positive regard to children who have never experienced it. I was providing a listening ear to teens who have no one.

Yesterday life was good, colours were brighter, the outlook was hopeful. There was justice and love in the world and I was a part of it.

Yesterday I left work with a smile on my face. I was content. I knew I was where I was supposed to be.

But today... Today I am heavy.

Today I am unhappy. No matter how hard I work today, I can’t make enough of a difference. Lives are in shambles and I am powerless to change them. No matter how much I give of myself it is not enough today.

Today life is confusing, colours are dull, the future is dim. Today is a vacuum. Justice and love have vanished without a trace. I am left feeling overwhelmed and alone.

Today I leave work with a heavy heart. I am fighting tears (and they’re winning). Today I feel unsure of where I’m meant to be and how I can make a difference.

How do I face tomorrow, and all the other tomorrows to come? How can I, knowing that while there will be many days like yesterday, days where I’m winning the battle against trauma, neglect, abuse, and mental illness, there will always be the todays where I am fighting a losing battle.

Loud sigh. Deep breath. Silent prayer.