What I love about a cloudy morning is the way curls of steam rise like little white blossoms from the mug.

And how, when the wind blows up here on the third floor, the panes rock back and forth like a clumsy attempt to soothe all the stress and discouragement I’ve closed in.

I love how the world holds me like a blanket just long enough to feel that it’s OK to spend five extra Friday minutes staring out the window at the just-budding branches. Then suddenly, a few bright rays break through, land on my forehead like a brisk blessing, and it’s time to get back to work.

For several weeks I have felt at-odds with my desires, recognizing envy, discouragement, and selfishness in some vulnerable places. I cling to the words:

“You can’t have community with those you compete with,”

and

“We don’t need more things. We need more meaning.”

Unfurling from these two truths is a single word like a wisp of morning steam.

Enough.

I walk through my house fingering it like a stone in my pocket.

This house-it is enough.

These daily tasks-enough.

This messy kitchen, this sticking door, the contents of these closets–enough, more than enough.

And the uncertain dreams? the middle spots with unknown endings? the relationships sometimes causing so much thought? Enormously, abundantly enough-if I choose to accept them.

Sometimes it seems the whole of life is remembering. I remind myself of these words last November, how this is the beginning of the fullest life, the biggest blessing: choosing to name this enough. I remind myself of what we read last December, what I struggled against like a cord wrapped tightly–“Embrace the small.” Embrace the downward life, because this is the way of the Kingdom.

What feels like compromise or constraint can turn out to be the greatest blessing.

What feels like “settling” can be the jar of clay with the treasure inside.

What seems insignificant  can be a gateway to glory.

What seems boring and ordinary may just be the very tool for a job this size.

“The meaning unfolds in the ordinary Wow. Thank You. Yes.”

Ann Voskamp