"good enough"

Father's Day Sunday, June 18, 2017 (7:15 a.m.)

Holy God,

I'm here this morning wondering about the phrase “good enough”. And I'm asking You to guide and direct my thinking and understanding in Your Word.

So often I focus intently on all the areas in which I lack. The places I fall short. I don't have a solid grasp of YOUR direction on what “good enough” would look like.

Proverbs 3:5 and 6 continue circling in my mind. “Trust in the LORD with all your heart; do not depend on your own understanding. Seek His will in all you do, and He will direct your paths.” This is precisely what I am asking. Direct my path and understanding, Father.

Depending on the translation, Your Word has multiple findings for the phrase “good enough”. Many of them reference what is NOT good enough.

(10:14 a.m.)

And here I smile.

The name of the man whom I reference as “An A-, why wasn't it an A?” dad in his approach to encouraging better performance just showed up in a crossword puzzle answer. My dad's shortened version of his given name is both a noun and a verb for a skateboard park jump.

Thank You for that smile God. Thank You for that man. Flawed as he was. He loved us. To the best of his ability, he loved us. All of us.

The young man who prayed in church this morning thanked You for “breaking our legs when necessary and carrying us home.” Yes Father. You do that. You change our direction. Our focus. Our habits. Our itinerary. Our understanding.

Holy Father God, I confess to You right now. I do not have a healthy understanding of what is “good enough”. I don't know how to stop tilting at windmills. I look to You. Asking. Seeking. Knocking (Matthew7:7). Wanting desperately for You to teach me how to do my very best and to know when and what is good enough for YOU!

You are truly the Father I want to please. In my thoughts. Words. And deeds. Continue teaching me exactly what “good enough” looks like to You. I honestly don't have the concept.

I love You. I long to please You. And I continue asking (Matthew 7:7) You to guide, direct and accompany me in my thinking. My choices. My abilities. And my actions. I love You, Dad. Happy Father's Day. Amen.

(397 words ~ 10:55 a.m.)