Not Good Enough

Good Enough

Not good enough, I heard you say, how can you make that call? You’ve seen my weakness, heard my pain, and watched me slip and fall? You sensed my need for reassurance and have given none. Your only object is my fate; your sentence now is done?


You think that I will just back down, and leave it all alone? Then you don’t know me very well; that judgment I can’t condone. There stand outside those yet unheard in this courtroom here today. Open the doors and let them in. These people have something to say.

There is the woman that was in church sitting silent and afraid. Together we shared the words of light that a path through her darkness made. We took of the bread and water sublime, her hungry soul to feed. And when she left, she smiled and said, “Thanks for seeing my need.”

Next came the children, young and tender, smiling sheepishly. They sighed. “She is the one there in the front, the lady who gave willingly! She loved us and shared all that she had. We went to her home and prayed. When we were sick, she was there with us, though others had not stayed.”

Then there’s the friend from long ago that the Spirit said to me, “Go to her home, she needs you now. You have time to stop and see.”  She was on the floor, writhing in pain, her children crying about. All she needed was a helping hand, and the Lord had heard her, no doubt.

The words of others came pouring in, a murmur throughout the room: the smiles given, the hungry fed, the many lifted from gloom. The record books could not hold them all, the pages were joyfully filled. The hearts of many were lifted up, as compassion was there unveiled.

Then suddenly there came a crack as the wood of the gavel went down. The judgment time had come at last. No one dared to make a sound. My name was called and I walked to the bar with head and heart hung low. No witness or testimony sufficient, it seemed, how would I ever know?

“Not good enough,” was all I could hear, no matter how hard I tried. Then a hand came forward, “Enter in my rest,” “How can I?” I meekly cried. “I’m not good enough, and will never be, I cannot enter alone.” “You don’t have to be, I’ve paid the price. Come, I will take you home.”

“You are my child, and will always be, my love for you never ends. You have done all you could, you do not have to make amends. The time has come, enter into my rest, lean on my shoulder now. Feel my love, it is all you need, the rest will work out somehow.”

©2015 by Denise W. Anderson, all rights reserved. Subscribe todayfor your emotional health!

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