I've been reflecting the last couple of days on my Word of the Year. As you know, I chose the word abundance. Well, that's not entirely accurate. It feels as if it were the word that chose me, not the other way around.
When I began the journey into 2019 I had fantastic dreams about what abundance would mean for me. I dreamt of new relationships, growth in my love for God and others, development of stronger coping skills, and strides in my professional life. I donned my new Abundance bracelet for 2019 with hope - looking ahead to the fulfillment of the beautiful life that I was sure awaited me in this year.
But life, it seems, had different plans for me. I am now halfway through 2019 and I have seen the dissolution of relationships I thought would last a lifetime. I have seen my love for God and others tested and pushed to its limits. I have taken steps backwards and forwards and backwards again as I have struggled through a break in my regimen of work in counseling sessions. And my professional life? Well... that is completely at a standstill now.
Abundance.
If I am honest, there is a part of me that would love to leave behind this word. Take off the bracelet. Abandon the dreams. But like I said, it's not just that I chose this word. This word chose me. So as much as I'd like to leave it behind, I just can't. Something about it clings to my heart and mind and I can't seem to shake it.
I had dreams of what abundance would mean. And I believed that there was a Garden ahead for me. Yet here I am, in a desert. The water has dried up, and there is nothing but dust everywhere I turn.
If there is anything I'm learning in the midst of this desert time, it is the reminder that God is a God of paradox. I think Paul understood the paradoxical nature of our God when he said that when he was weak, God was strong. (2 Cor. 12:9-10)
This passage links itself perfectly to the idea of abundance for me. Because it's not about fulfillment. It's about a promise. It's not about completion. It's about hope.
I'm learning that this is what God was hoping for when the word abundance fell into my lap at the beginning of 2019. Paradoxically, it wasn't about the fulfillment of the dreams I had dreamt up. It was instead about leaning into the hope of the fulfillment. It was not about seeing the complete work of God. It was instead about remembering God's promises to me. And despite the wilderness of my present circumstances, I know... or at least, I hope... that I will indeed see a life of abundance.
You see, I don't know if I can fully express why I feel this way, but I have always struggled with "enoughness." Do I have enough to give? Do I have enough power and agency to act or stand on my own? Am I enough to be loved, or even just included? I rehearse a scarcity mindset over and over and over again. There simply isn't enough. I am not enough.
And to be honest, in this desert season, I struggle so much more with "enoughness". I tend to loosen my grip on the belief that there is enough for me to give of my time or resources, and I therefore hoard them to myself - taking care to hold tightly for fear of losing what little I do have in my life. I forget any semblance of agency in my life - feeling tossed about by the winds of change and chance. I lose sight of the hope that I am enough to be loved simply for who I am. I have lost a lot in this desert time. And in my weaker moments, I grow convinced that there simply isn't enough of anything... especially faith, hope, and love.
And yet... God. God says there is enough. God says I am enough. God is not a God of scarcity. Even in the desert times, God is a God of abundance. It's a paradox. I don't really understand it. I barely believe it. There is a part of me that tells me it's a fool's errand believing in abundance in the midst of a desert. But I'm learning that at the end of the day, there is a choice I have to make. I have the choice set in front of me to keep staring at the desert, or I can choose to hope. I can choose to believe that God will fulfill the promises made to me. That I will indeed see goodness and mercy and love brought to completion.
Perhaps it is a fool's errand. Reason tells us to look at the reality in front of us. When there is a desert ahead and behind and around, it is foolish to believe in a Garden. When there is nothing but dust running through your fingers, it is foolish to believe in abundance. And yet.... I hope, with everything in me, that God is still in the business of creating life from dust.
And so, here I am. Recklessly hoping. Even in my struggle with enoughness, I choose to believe in abundance.