Will it Ever be Enough?

For my 16th birthday, I knew one thing. I wanted a 13.1 sticker on the back of my jeep. It would change my life. It would make everything better. It would be enough.

I ran that race. I crossed that finish line, and the bar moved. It whispered quietly, “When will you run a marathon?”

And that was the moment I learned the bar would never stop moving.

I think about that girl often. That girl who ran miles and miles early in the morning. That girl who pulled on the rope, thinking it would get her to where she wanted to be, when in fact with each tug, the rope doubled in length. The rope kept getting longer. The bar never stops being raised.

I often wonder: if she saw where we landed today, would she be proud? Would she be disappointed? Would she even recognize herself? And maybe most importantly, would I tell her? Would I tell her that the moment she crossed that finish line, the striving never ceased?

In fact, the striving amplified. It doubled. It tripled.

The striving is drowning her.

I ran that race thinking that would be enough.

The bar moved.

I went to college thinking a new place would be enough.

The bar moved.

I graduated.

The bar moved.

I took a job.

The bar moved.

I moved cities.

The bar moved.

I ran another half marathon.

The bar moved.

I got my MBA.

The bar moved.

I took a new job.

The bar moved.

Would I go back and tell her not to run that half marathon? That the half marathon would become the start of a never-ending rope. A source of the constant question she thinks she will never shake - Am I failing? Because with each success comes a lingering voice:

The bar has moved again. That success was not enough.

It’s a never-ending cycle and I feel like an addict. The next success will be enough. The next raise. The next house. The next city. The next boyfriend. The next swipe, the next, the next, the next…

If I could grab her at the start of that first half-marathon, I would shake her shoulders and say, “Listen closely, it will never be enough.”

This race? It isn’t enough.

That job? It isn’t enough.

That salary? It isn't enough.

That city? It isn’t enough.

A spouse? They won’t be enough.

A house? It won’t be enough.

I am convinced that nothing on this side of heaven is enough. That striving after achievements makes for terrible gods. If I am not careful, I will spend my whole life striving after a bar that never stops moving. At some point, it has to stop. The striving has to stop. Even as I write this, I question - will this be enough?

A year ago, I was sitting on the beach with a friend who on paper has a lot of the things I hope my life will have one day. She’s got a great husband, two healthy babies, and a community. In my eyes, she’s achieved it. She said to me, “All anyone asks me is, ‘When is the next baby coming?’” & in that moment I knew, I had to stop. The striving had to stop. This world will never let it end, but I could not live like this anymore. I could not bear the weight of a lifelong struggle to the next achievement. Probably because I was never meant to.

You can’t let the things on this side of heaven hold that kind of weight. That the gifts in your life, a race you enjoy, your job, your money, your community, are simply gifts, never a fulfillment. The problem was never the gifts. The problem was giving those gifts a role in your life they were never meant to carry. When in fact, they are a platform to carry the gospel. To steward this time on earth.

& maybe that idea is not too far off.

Maybe that job is a gift to love others well? Like Jesus would.

Maybe that house is a space to love your community? Like Jesus would.

Maybe that raise is to steward well? Like Jesus would.

Maybe that race is just another way to encourage others? Like Jesus would.

If God gives me a spouse, maybe that’s just another way to spread the gospel? Like Jesus would.

Because none of these things are enough. None of them are bad gifts, either. I've come to believe the ache of constant striving is evidence of heaven—evidence that we were not made for this world, and that no achievement, relationship, salary, race, or city was ever meant to satisfy us. Only God was.