As my little girl and I were cleaning up toys, she began to
sing, “Clean up, clean up, everybody everywhere…” What a little princess, huh? Singing as she cleans.
“All right. You’ve
done enough,” I said when we finished tidying the room.
Enough. I thought
about the word for a moment, wishing I could speak those words to myself. It’s all
right. You’ve done enough…you are
enough. It seems like there’s always
more to do or more to be.
And then I remembered these words from the Savior of the
world: My grace is sufficient for thee.
He cannot lie. He
says he makes up the difference—and so he does.
As I wiped down the kitchen counter, it dawned on me that
when I said “you’ve done enough” to Abbey, I wasn’t expecting her to do more
than she could. I didn’t expect her to also
take care of the dishes, laundry, or mopping.
I just wanted her to simply try to do what she could. And it thrilled me
that she did it “cheerfully”.
I didn’t expect her to “run faster than she had strength,”
or even do everything all at once. So
why do I expect that of myself? Even God
Himself didn’t create the earth all at once.
It took time. And then He took
time to rest.
Rest. That’s what the
Savior invites us to do. Rest from
worrying about whether or not we’re “enough” because with him, we are. In what James E. Talmage called “one of the
grandest outpourings of spiritual emotion known to man,” our Savior pleads with
us:
“Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I
will give you rest. Take my yoke upon
you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest
unto your souls. For my yoke is easy and
my burden is light.” (Matt. 11:28-30)
He promises everyone that if we partner with Him, we will be
enough. No exceptions. No lost causes. All we have to do is humbly take His yoke
upon us—a spiritual yoke, hewn with faith and conversion. A yoke that combines our efforts with His absolute
perfection in a slow and steady, balanced pace.
A yoke that makes extreme and even everyday burdens easier.
He promises.
I am enough because He lives.
Abbey played with her toys—gifts from Christmastime—while I
swept the floor, and I found myself so delighted at her delight.
I considered the delight of our Savior when he sees our
delight at His gift to us--His gift of enough.
I smiled and joined my little girl in happiness.
