By On Friday, I posted an Instagram story asking: What’s the biggest lie you’re fighting?
I figured I would scoop the lies up– one by one– and start to break them down in this space. We could ambush them together and pick the better stories for ourselves.
Within a few minutes, the lies were pouring in, and they were loud:
I’m not made for motherhood.
I chose the wrong path.
There’s no room for me at the table.
I’m an imposter.
God is withholding his goodness from me.
I’ll never experience peace– only overwhelm.
I’m not good enough to make anyone stay.
Perhaps the most common lie is one I’ve grappled with myself for years and years. The lie: I’m not good enough.
We’ve all said it before. We’ve thought about it. We’ve acted out of it. I don’t know when that influential little lie gets in, but here’s what I do know: it’s no place to live your life from.
The lie “I’m not good enough” almost always hinges on another more dangerous belief: someone else is better. Someone else deserves more. Someone else should get the victory.
It makes me think back to the story of King Saul, how he started his reign out well, but how a little shepherd boy named David got into his head.
David, the underdog who slayed Goliath, became an incredible soldier. He had a gift. He had a high rank in the army.
The scriptures say that a crowd of women began belting out a catchy little song as they followed David around:
“Saul has slain his thousands, and David his tens of thousands.”
It’s an interesting ballad. While it props one individual up, it puts down another. It makes a clear statement: David is in first place now, and Saul comes in second.
That victory song was the beginning of the end for King Saul.
The MSG Translation writes, “This made Saul angry—very angry. He took it as a personal insult. He said, “They credit David with ‘ten thousands’ and me with only ‘thousands.’ Before you know it they’ll be giving him the kingdom!” From that moment on, Saul kept his eye on David.”
Instead of spending his days doing great things for his people and evolving into a better king, he wasted the days trying to chase down and defeat David. Trying to make sure David never lived out his calling.
Saul based his sense of worth on a foundation that would never hold him up– his popularity among the people. When it was good, he was golden. He was in a stride. He was on top of the world. But the second someone came along who was a little bit better than him and developed more favor with the people, Saul unraveled completely.
His sense of worth was rooted in something fleeting, something he had no control over. Saul could have done such good and mighty things, but he cared too much about where he stood in the rankings and if he was good enough or better than someone else.
I’ve been guilty of this before. I think it is a lie that can sprout repeatedly if we don’t monitor it carefully. I have to constantly “reorder my loves,” as Saint Augustine put it, and place God back in the front spot when something like popularity or fame tries to sneak up to the first place.
If I base my sense of worthiness on how popular I am among people, that will always be a sliding scale. It will leave my emotions in disarray. It will make me an unsteady person. It will mean I am giving too much credit to people and not nearly enough to God.
You and I will never find our worth within other people’s rankings. We weren’t made for a life of measuring sticks. There has to be something more significant than this. And while I can’t give you all the answers and I can’t instantly evaporate this lie of “I’m not good enough” from your brain, I can fill you with some truth today:
You have a life that is all yours. And it is up to you to be a steward of that life. It is up to you to live into it as fully as possible. No one can do these things for you. You’ve been entrusted, and the work really, really matters.
You have people in your orbit that are meant to be loved by you. You have passions and projects to pursue. You have dreams that you’ve yet to see unfold. You have a mighty and good God covering you along the way. You may not always feel him, but it doesn’t change the fact that he is ever present in your story, and He has your good in mind. I believe these things are all true.
Consider this life of yours to be a garden. A garden needs care and attention. It requires you to show up daily to uproot the weeds and care for the unique things growing in that patch of dirt. Your plants will wither if you focus too heavily on the garden next door. Or if you’re constantly watching everyone around you water their plants, but you don’t act yourself. If you’re always worried that someone else has better produce, your focus will be zapped away from the task that was yours to undertake.
For as long as we try to be “good enough,” there will always be another metric. Another milestone. Another ladder to climb. Meanwhile, the garden withers.
So what if we stopped the machine? What if we heard the lie booming in our spirit and, instead, we rerouted the energy towards the areas that need our attention: our waking lives, our people, our faith, our paths? These things need us.
I don’t want you to get to the end of your life and think, “I could have cared so much more for what I had. I could have partnered with God. I could have made my life vibrant if I had only learned to tell myself the truth earlier: it is enough. It is enough, and I am going step fully in.”