Enough

written by Reuben Kendall, August 2022

for liturgical call and response, with corporate response in bold text

I have been so afraid 

that there would not be enough;  


Afraid that when you welcome 

all who love you into their eternal rest 

I will be last in line, turned away at the door; 

that there will be no more welcome left for me, 

no seat left over at your feast -  


I have been so afraid 

that there would not be enough;  


Afraid you would grow tired of hearing my prayers 

before I finally found what was in my heart 

and said it; 

afraid of using up the precious minutes in which 

you were willing to listen to me talk- 



I have been so afraid 

that there would not be enough;  


Afraid that when you are done cutting 

all the sin and wickedness out of the world, 

there will not be enough pieces of me 

left over to love -   


I have been so afraid 

I would not be enough;  


I have laid awake 

having run out of hope, of love, of faith;  

run out of remorse or joy or whatever grace 

I told myself I needed to fake 

to keep the flame of my soul lit; 

my flame has gone; the fuel spent; 


I have been so afraid 

I would not be enough- 


Not enough to notice, 

not enough to be worth saving, 

not enough to waste your love on, 

not enough to be worth having; 


I have been so afraid 

I have forgotten who you are; 


Was it not you who fed five thousand men?   

Five thousand men with worker’s appetites, 

and their families and their friends;  

and the food left over filled baskets, 

one for each apostle, 

even the doubter and the liar and the traitor- 

Was that not you? 


Was it not you who planted Eden, 

that dream of green that still rises 

from underneath all our asphalt and iron 

and never grows tired of being born 

and born again in every beautiful 

and healing thing? 


Was it not you? 

Was it not you? 


You who have never believed in not enough, 

but have only ever given and given 

and kept on giving; 


You in whom not-enough runs out, 

in whom entropy disintegrates, 

in whom there is always more and more; 

more grace, 

more love, 

more yes; 

You, my Portion, 

my Inheritance forever, 

my Life Undying. 

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