My body needs water. I cannot get away from its daily demands. In my kitchen I gulp a few sips to down my supplements. I grab a bottle from my garage on my way out the door. My coffee has water in it. Surely that counts? 

My routine consumption rarely approaches the eight to nine glasses a day recommended by health professionals. I run a constant deficit, staying on the verge of dehydration. 

Why? 

Water is continuously available to me. It is canned and sparkling in my fridge, Colorado-fresh and free-flowing out my spigot, melodious in the creek by my home. Majestic in the expanse of wind-churned peaks across the surface of a nearby lake.  Thunderous and powerful over the falls. Thoroughly drenching from the skies. There is no lack of water in its availability to me. 

Even so, I barely quench my thirst when there is nothing else as refreshing or satisfying as water. 

I awoke this morning to Holy Spirit’s invitation to recognize His offer to drink deeply. My thirst is not met by His ubiquitous nature; it is met by my intentional consumption of Him. Not a sip here and there, not a gulp along with supplements, not my morning hot brew to awaken me for my day. His offer is saturation, steeping, ingesting, filling myself with Him. On cool days and scorchers alike. 

I need Him.

​I remember the rush of bitterness washing over me in the bowling alley. I was less than ten years old, spending my Sunday afternoon along with my siblings being entertained by our father. It was our weekly visitation day, after the divorce, the day we got to represent our mother’s righteous demand for child support before a man who valued other things above his family.  As an adult I have far more grace for the brokenness behind failure. But when Holy Spirit returns such memories, there is a reason. 

The memory was triggered as I hiked a familiar trail alone in the isolation of the COVID-19 mandate to stay cloistered. Families are out in droves, staying in their cocooned clusters of “just us”. Stepping aside for a wife, toddler, and infant strapped to his daddy’s back, the memory flooded back to me in a flash. 

As a jaded child, I thought to myself looking around that bowling alley full of fathers and children, “If you had been there for your family when they needed you, you wouldn’t have to be here now in this meaningless ritual,” judging every sans-mother father there assigned a lane with his brood represented what our grouping did. Abandonment. Divorce. Feigned connection. 

My first response now is to invite Holy Spirit into this memory, into this pain that is still trigger-able for a reason. A wound unrecognized and therefore untended. 

What memories is this current crisis triggering for you in this time of unpredictability and even chaos? What are you feeling? 

The temptation is to quickly sweep the discomfort to the side, to walk past without addressing the underlying wound or even the fresh gouging of new assaults against your heart. But there is an invitation in the pain, a wooing into communion with the Great Physician, the Counselor, the One Who bears our grief. God brings beauty straight out of the charred remains of ashes. 

Come Holy Spirit. Lead us into all truth. We invite the healing Balm of Gilead into our most hidden places of wounding, in Jesus’ name.

Earlier this week I had worked out a deal with a Turkish company to use my photography in a product they manufacture. The arrangement crashed upon discovery that some invisible quality of my photography is not good enough, resolution numbers behind the scenes defining how large my photos can be expanded. I use an iPhone as my camera. That is all I have. It has been enough, until it wasn’t. My inventory of thousands of pictures --  not good enough. 

Not good enough for some invisible, non-rectifiable reason that I do not really understand because it is numbers and math and technology.  Numbers. In the highest reading group, I nearly failed sixth grade over my non-existent math skills. I cheated to get through summer school and progressed on to the seventh grade. I am not proud of that. 

Not good enough reverberated through me today taking an ax swing at old wounds. It is not just my cherished but useless collection of photos, but all the things my heart has dreamed and not seen brought to fruition, including certain yearnings for my adult children, and restorative work in developing nations. Hope deferred, over and over again. Pain.  

Inadequacies lurk beneath my surface— not good enough to make everything all right for those I love. Outcomes I was never meant to control. Things I cannot see or understand this side of the veil. 

Can what God brings to fruition be enough to satisfy me? In truth, I need to find my satisfaction in Christ alone, not in the realization of all I desire. I have seen many well-meaning posts proclaiming, “I am enough!” I am not enough. I am not near enough. What I am however, is beloved, and in God, doors and opportunities open for me well beyond the sum of my strengths, likability, intellect or resources. 

He is enough. In the midst of recognition there are and will always be ways I cannot measure up, things my good heart cannot resolve, today He has reminded me in Him I am everything needed anyway. 

Join me in prayer? 

Father, Jesus, Holy Spirit, 
You alone are worthy, our God of mercy and grace Who invites us into Your inner sanctuary for communion. Open palms before You, we surrender to You once again all outcomes, unresolved crises, all the ways life screams at us about our inadequacies. We declare it is in our weakness Your strength is on full display. Your power is made perfect in our weakness as we yield to You, and draw near in utter dependency. We declare Your grace is sufficient; You are enough, and that is enough for us, in Jesus’ Name.

​When we think of praying, what typically comes to mind is petitioning God. Our lives and the lives of those we love are filled with spiritual, emotional and practical needs. It’s not wrong to ask. Phil 4:6 (NLT) exhorts us,

​“Don't worry about anything; instead, pray about everything. Tell God what you need, and thank him for all he has done.”  

Consider, however, that some of the things we may be asking for, we already have. Scripture is full of statements that are true about us as ones who have committed our lives to Christ. However, those truths may not be manifested in our lives. The disconnect isn’t with the Provider, rather, it may be with our enforcement or with our view of ourselves. 

I’ll give you a concrete example. It is easy to see the truth that humans are alpha over dogs. Yet many pet owners allow their little fur balls to rule the house. The human may feel powerless to exert rules or boundaries. There is a problem in the way the pet owner views themselves. Can you imagine Fifi’s owner petitioning God for the authority to be boss at home over their pets? They already have the authority!!  

Increasing faith impacts the measurable results of your prayers! 

• Declaring moves spiritual realities from our heads and into our hearts, impacting the way we actually live our lives. 
• Declaring announces to the forces of hell that we know who we are, and that we are enforcers of the truth. 

Have you ever taken a stand at home, declaring over your children, “I’m the mother here. And what I say, goes!”? You get the idea. You were the mother before the statement was made audibly.

​But declaring the truth of your authority and position over the troops creates greater alignment because of enforcement. 

Today when you read scripture, keep a pen handy to capture every statement that describes you and those you intercede for as believers. Declare these truths into full manifestation, shifting your realities into closer alignment with the purposes of God.

​Let’s start with Hebrews 4:16 (NLT), “So let us come boldly to the throne of our gracious God. There we will receive his mercy, and we will find grace to help us when we need it most.”