Adventure in Restructuring Revisited

Truth is, I wrote this a March ago, and I’m not at all sure why I never posted it. It’s nothing special. It’s not important, but it doesn’t seem right for it to keep sitting here. Finished.

Until last night I had not slept since Thursday night. Some of that was my own doing, some of it can be blamed on my brain (I call it Brian). One night off will upset my whole schedule.

What I came to realize is that I slept hard Sunday to Thursday. Hard. One night I got a little sad, pretty sad, so I went to bed and I slept 11 1/2 hours. I don’t even feel bad about it. I was processing my week with a friend, and I realized I was granted so very much sleep last week to prepare me for this sleepless weekend. Because the truth is Friday night I needed to be awake. I needed to not take a moment to myself. Some Friday nights I wanted to stay up late, most Friday nights I want to be in bed by 9, with every intention of waking up early on Saturday, a whole day free.

This particular Friday night I stayed up after midnight with a friend. And as I attempted to restlessly to sleep, my phone rang around 2 a.m. The thing about 2 a.m. phone calls is that they are either someone very drunk or someone very hurt. I don’t always answer them. I usually know which it’ll be based on the name. Friday night I had to answer. And I’m glad I did. I’d have stayed on that phone as long as I needed to. And while my friend in crisis had to go, I had to stay. I had to stay up. My brain wanted me to be the one to save her. My brain was convinced I could be. But the longer I stayed up. The longer I prayed–for her, for Joel, for Thailand, for any number of things–I was reminded I am not sufficient. I. Am. Not.

I know, full well, if I had driven to see that friend in the middle of the night it would have been appreciated on both sides (had I even been capable of that), but the truth is I would have been going because I could. Because I believed I could save her. Not only is that not my job, it is not something I’m capable of doing. And it’s very much in my nature to save people. I cannot do this. I can help where I’m needed and where I’m sent, but I am no one’s savior. I have to step back, a lot, to remind myself that not a damn thing in my life is about me.

Thankfully, I am increasingly surrounded by people who don’t let me stay stagnant, who don’t let good enough suffice. I am surrounded by people who actively push me to be better, to do better, but I’m also surrounded by people whose existence in my life draws me, compels me to be and do better. To live boldly.

I’m not there. I’m shit at it. But I’m getting there. I’m improving.

Adventure in Sufficiency

I don’t know if it’s a common title for a foreign governor, but I do know that once in the BBC’s Chronicles of Narnia: Voyage of the Dawn Treader that Prince Caspian calls Governor Gumpas “your sufficiency,” which always makes me laugh. “Your perfectly adequate, I suppose, ness.” “Your we’ll take what we can get ity.” “Your the best we can come up with cy.”

It’s always been funny to me, because Gumpas isn’t sufficient. He’s a horrible governor. He’s actually a pretty terrible human.

Today though I was talking to a friend, and I said something that made me cry as it left me. So perhaps I needed to hear, and definitely acknowledge it, more than she did. “His grace is SUFFICIENT,” I said. I said it in all caps like that. And I think that’s what hit me.

I talk myself out of the grace I’ve been given a lot. How my mistakes are just going to tear that apart. As if God’s got sheets and sheets of us that as soon as we screw up he just tears it in two. And he’s God so those halves are pretty exact. That’s not how it works though. If I had the capability to screw up grace, then I’d have the capability of redeeming myself too. I very much do not. Woof, if I did. Yikes. Like mega yikes.

Real talk: I’m a pretty big ol’ sinner. I know. Calm down. It’s true though. And try as I might there’s not a lot I can do to fix that. I dare say, there’s nothing I can do. And I tried. I tried a bunch. I still try. All of the time. If I just get rid of this thing or stop this then ta-da! Salvation. Cue sad trumpet noise. Because I’ve already got there. In spades. And I just forget. Like a bunch I forget. All the time I forget.

I can’t save me. You can’t save me. And I can’t save you.

His grace is sufficient. Sufficient.