Are You Enough?

When I grow up

The young man stood in the all too familiar rut. Grooves dug into the soles of his bare feet. He pressed his feet down and pain shot up his legs and he gritted his teeth.

Green surrounded him. Vast fields of lush, soft grass and clover dotted with pinks and purples and whites. He ignored all of it. The only thing that mattered to him now was the full length mirror that leaned against a mighty oak in front of him. He stared into the mirror, into pale brown eyes. Knowing eyes. His eyes.

And he started the chant.

“You are not enough. You are not enough. You are not enough. You are not enough.”

His head tried to turn. As tears streaked down his face, his eyes searched for the fields around him, but he steeled his will to stare into the mirror and continue the chant.

“You are not enough. You are not enough. You are not enough. You are not enough.”

“Enough,” an echo caught in the whisper of a breeze that lifted his bangs and caressed his cheek. Not an echo. Not his voice. Not his anger and resentment. Gentle. Familiar.

The young man stumbled in his words. His chant halted for just a moment. The touch of the breeze closed his eyes and he breathed it in.

His eyes snapped open and he began the chant again with more venom. “You are not enough. You are not enough. You are not enough.”

And the breeze began a chant of its own. “You are enough. My grace is enough. My love is enough. I am enough. You are enough.”

The breeze never spoke above a whisper, but every word drowned out the young man’s chant. Words failed him. He tried to choke back tears, but the flow was too strong.

His body relaxed and he lay back, out of the rut, on a bed of clover and wildflowers. He stared into a canopy of green dappled with gold. A deep breath brought him clean, fresh air that he missed when he was in the rut.

Saved again. Saved from himself. Saved from the lies that haunted him, but lies that were his own. Saved to breathe and to feel the sunlight on his skin. Saved to believe that with all his failures, all his shortcomings, all his deceptions, he could still be enough.

“You are enough that I died for you. You are enough that I created you. You are enough that I love you with a depth that can never be fathomed. And I am enough for you.” The breeze stirred the grass around him and washed over him.

“But, all my failures. All I could be. All I should be. All I’m supposed to be.”

“You are all I created you to be. You. And that is enough.”

The young man relaxed and surrendered to the peace. Tomorrow would be the same, the young man knew this. Tomorrow he would find himself in that rut, no matter how hard he tried to avoid it. And tomorrow the whispers of his Jesus would save him again, if he listened.

Not every day ended this way, with him lying in the soft grass. Not every day did he let the whispers drown out his own chant.

Today he did. Today he could breathe. He would take tomorrow when it came.


Today is Story Monday on Tuesday – again. I would love to hear your thoughts on the little story above. What does a little kitten wanting to be Aslan when he grows up have to do with a young man stuck in a rut? Let’s discuss it.


I would love to discuss this story and more with you. You can reach me via my Contact page, or join me on Facebook.

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Looking for great stories:

$RMFC6E8 You can grab a copy of my Sci-Fi short story Alien Cafe

IMG_19031 Or it’s fantastic Sci-Fi sequel Alien Cafe: The Disconti Incident.


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