Is He Enough?

If you were to have absolutely nothing but the love of God, would you be satisfied? Would I? Would it be enough?

I recently wrote a song and I debated back and forth about the lyrics. Originally the song was an "asking praise song" as I call it. It was a song asking God for love, faith, etc. but I stopped and realized that there are too many songs asking God for things and I wanted to write a song that gives and worships. As I continued to think about it, I was drawn to a special point in my life, a time when I was confronted with having to answer, "Is God is really enough for me?" It was when my Dad and I were in Ethiopia in '09 and my Dad got sick. Really sick. Probably the sickest I've ever seen him. We were staying in Alaba, Ethiopia in a single room that was in a compound. There was no electricity, restrooms or running water. It was just a dark room with a single window covered by a sheet to keep out the flies. It was fine as we were rarely there. My Dad and I taught all day long and ate at the generous home of some Ethiopian friends. Days were packed with a busy schedule.

One morning, however, I woke up to the alarm clock that Dad wasn't turning off. After I had turned it off I realized that Daddy was sick. He was burning up with fever. I soon realized that I had to take care of things myself. After getting some other members of the team to come down the street to check on him, they agreed with me that he had to rest. He was so sick he couldn't hardly sit up. I gave him a hug and left to go teach. I just knew he would be better when I got back or at least on the mend, but he was worse. He was delirious. As there were not restrooms, he had to walk to the end of the compound, which scared me since he hardly knew who he was let alone where the restroom was. The next day he was no better. I came back to check on him at lunch time and to bring him some bread but he couldn't eat it. I was so broken, so terrified. Daddy wasn't getting better. He was supposed to be the strong one. He was the one who encouraged me. But he was so sick with a temp. of 102 and no doctor or hospital anywhere near. We had come all that way for... this? I just wanted to go home. I felt that for the first time, I was really alone. I fell into an exhausted sleep on a suitcase since Dad was on the only bed and I heard the door slowly creak open. I thought I was dreaming as I sat up. Three Ethiopian women came into the room. They were silhouettes against the blinding outside light. They didn't speak to me but I greeted them and went to the bed to try to get Daddy to sit up. I recognized them from some of the women at the church Dad had been teaching at. The students had been told that he was sick, so I thought these ladies must have come to check on him. But they didn't even talk to him or me. They swayed their colorful skirts back and forth and hummed, walking around the small room. They began to mutter with their eyes to the heavens. Their dark faces glistened with tears as they raised their voices in prayer. It sounded almost like a song as they all spoke at once. I couldn't understand their words, but now that I look back I'm glad I couldn't. I was left marveling at the tone of their voices, the tears on their faces and their swaying. I cried with them. Daddy sat up dripping in sweat, eyes closed. I truly believe that was the most genuine prayer I'd ever heard. The presence of God filled my heart in that dark room. The three women slowly ceased and left as quickly as they'd come. Daddy laid back down and I was left sitting on the edge of his bed marveling at the precision of the ladies visit. They had been like angels, not in white with blond hair, but dressed in warm colors with skin the color of midnight. I prayed. It was just me and God. He was all I had and I realized that He was enough. If I had nothing but my Heavenly Father, He was enough.

Daddy slowly got better the next day and was able to continue teaching. He remembered very little about those three days. He saw the three ladies again and thanked them, because not only did their prayers help bring about his healing but they reminded me that God is enough and He's always there to listen. We later realized that Dad had taken a sip of tap water on accident which had lead to his sickness.

The song flowed from that story. It simply became a melody thanking Jesus that He is enough. That time in my life was a major eye-opener. But it was also such a joy I'm going back this fall! I have it so easy compared to the believers there. They live in poverty and rejoice even in persecution.

What about you? Can you say "Jesus is enough?" Do we really have to have something more? Do we really have to have the world's acceptance? Do we have to have to have this or be that? What if a family member dies? What if I lose my health? If we only had Jesus... would He be enough? We all like to say, "Oh, yes! He is all I need." But lets really think about it. He wants to be enough. If we say that he is enough... then He should be.

But whatever gain I had, I counted as loss for the sake of Christ. Indeed, I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things and count them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ. Philippians 3:7-8(ESV)