Let It Be Enough

Transcript

SPEAKER_00 0:01

Good morning, my baby. And welcome back to Gentle Hours. I hope that wherever this message finds you this morning, you've given yourself permission to be exactly as you are. Maybe you're still lying in bed. Maybe you're driving to work. Maybe you're making breakfast, folding some laundry, ordering implants. And maybe you're simply sitting in the quiet before the responsibilities of today begin asking something of you. Whatever this morning looks like, I'm grateful that you decided to spend a little bit of your time with me. Now before we begin, let's settle ourselves the way we always do because I don't want us to rush into another day carrying everything that yesterday left behind. Take a slow, deep breath in through your nose. Hold it. Now release it slowly through your mouth again. Breathe in deeply, allowing your shoulders to soften and your jaw to unclench. Because I know some of you have been carrying some tension, places in your body that was never designed to be held. Hold that breath for just a moment and now let it go. One more time. Breathe in peace and breathe out the pressure to become more before you acknowledge for who you already are. I've been thinking about something lately. And I wonder how many of us have forgotten what enough actually feels like because we've spent so much of our lives, you know, convincing ourselves that every accomplishment is simply another assignment. We work towards something that we prayed for, we cried over, we sacrificed for and imagined for years, and when it finally comes to us, we barely give ourselves permission to enjoy it before our minds begin, you know, searching for the next thing that still needs to be fixed. You know, it's almost as if we've trained ourselves to believe that satisfaction is dangerous, that contentment somehow means that we become complacent. So instead of celebrating where we are, we immediately begin criticizing where we aren't. We've all done it. There have been moments in my own life where I reached something I had prayed for for years, and instead of allowing gratitude to settle into my heart, I immediately started asking myself what I should be doing next. This was another goal to accomplish another responsibility for me to carry another expectation to meet. And before I realized that I had skipped right over the miracle because I was already, you know, chasing another one. And I wonder often, you know, why do we do what we do without even noticing? I wonder how many prayers we've watched become reality and we're still telling ourselves that we are behind. I wonder how many times we've asked God for something with tears in our eyes only to receive it and just treat it like it wasn't supposed to happen, you know, all along. And sometimes I think we become so familiar with striving that we no longer recognize rest when it finally comes to us. You know, we've we've kind of made exhaustion feel productive. We've made being overwhelmed feeling important, we've made carrying everything feel like evidence that we're doing something correctly. And because we've normalized that way of living, stillness almost makes us uncomfortable. You finally have a free afternoon instead of enjoying it, you start looking for something else to clean. You finally sit down and suddenly you remember the things that need to be done. You finally receive good news, and somehow your mind starts preparing for everything that could still go wrong. It's almost like peace knocks on the door, and we don't recognize it because we become so accustomed to entertaining pressure instead. Baby, the message is let it just be enough. Everything doesn't require your urgency. Some things, you know, just require you to be present, and there is a difference before urgency, you know, convinces you that if you stop moving, everything will fall apart. But being present reminds you that life is happening while you're making plans for tomorrow. The people you love are growing older. Your children, you know, are becoming adults, parents are changing, the seasons continue to pass, flowers continue to bloom, whether you stop to admire them or not. The sun continues to rise every single morning without asking whether you've finished your to-do list. And life has never waited for us to catch up. Which is why I think it's important that we learn how to participate in life that we're building instead of constantly, you know, postponing it until we believe we've earned it. We're also kinder to strangers than we are to ourselves. We'll celebrate someone else's progress while just dismissing our own. We'll tell another person they're doing the best they can and then turn around and tell ourselves that we should somehow be doing more with the same 24 hours, the same responsibilities, with the same limitations. Some of us wake up every single day already disappointed in ourselves before the day even had the opportunity to be, and that's a heavy way to live because eventually, you know, you stop measuring yourself by who you are, and you start measuring yourself only by what you've accomplished. Baby, your accomplishments are beautiful, your discipline matters, your dreams matter, but your value has never been attached to your productivity. You were valuable before anyone somewhere celebrating you. You were valuable before the promotion, you were valuable before the degree, the business, the platform, the title, before everything you keep telling yourself will finally make you feel like enough. You know, I've been learning that gratitude and ambition don't have to compete with one another. You still have dreams, you can still work hard, you can still desire more of your life while also looking around and saying, Thank you, God, for what you've already done. And you know that those two can exist together. Gratitude keeps ambition from becoming greed. Gratitude reminds us that today's answer prayer was once yesterday's impossible situation. You know, today isn't asking you to accomplish something out of the ordinary. Today is simply asking you to notice what you've already been overlooking. I want you to just acknowledge the small things, you know, the laughter, the quiet, maybe that roof over your head. Notice that your heart is still hopeful after everything that you have been through and survived through. Notice that you are still here. And don't overlook that. Baby, let it be enough. And I know there were moments, you know, when you didn't know how everything was going to work itself out. There were some seasons, my baby, that exhausted you. Conversations that really changed you, and disappointments that humble you. There were nights when you cried yourself to sleep, and mornings you had to gather every ounce of strength just to get out of bed and pretend that everything was okay. And baby, yet here you are. Maybe not exactly who you thought you'd be. Maybe not exactly where you imagined you'd be, but you're here, you're healing, you are growing. Baby, you are becoming. And please don't rush past the version of yourself trying to get to another one. You deserve to be acknowledged to. Breathe in. Hold it. And as you exhale, release the belief that you have to constantly improve your worth, my baby. Again. Breathe in the gratitude for where you are. And breathe out the pressure to always be somewhere else. One last breath. Breathe in the understanding that you are still growing and breathe out the lie. That growth means you can never appreciate where you've already come. And as you move through your day today, I hope you give yourself, you know, the biggest permission to stop moving your finish line. I hope you pause long enough to celebrate something that you've been overlooking, to acknowledge a prayer that's already been answered, to speak yourself with the same kindness you so freely, you know, offer to everyone else. Life is not only waiting for you at the next accomplishment, it is happening right now in the ordinary Monday, in this quiet morning, in this breath that you've just taken. So before you ask more of yourself today, take one moment and simply say, for today, let it be enough. I love you. Have a beautiful day, and I'll meet you back here next Monday for another gentle hours. Until then, be gentle with yourself. My baby.