It was February 14th, Valentines day. Not just any Valentines day, but Aubrey Ann’s first Valentines day as a school-aged child, a Kindergartener.  I heard Aubrey Ann busily working down the hall. She came out of her room asking me what she should wear, I felt a twinge of guilt that I hadn’t purchased her some sort of special Valentines day outfit. I suggested that she stay in her pajamas until after breakfast, this would give me time to think.  Think, Mari Jo, Think…

Breakfast came, and I rushed to prepare something “Valentine-esque”. Oatmeal with raisins shaped into a heart. A drop of red food coloring. There, that will do it.

I sat the food at the table, and you would have thought I had made a five star meal. The kids squealed with excitement. Even so, the guilt about the outfit, about not having a special Valentine breakfast was beginning to pile up.

The enemy whispered, “Don’t the kids deserve better than this? Don’t they deserve more than you can give?  More than you will ever have to offer?”

I shook the thoughts away, and silently prayed, “Lord, make me enough.”

We cleaned up from breakfast and it hit me.  It was 9 am.  By this time Aubrey Ann would have been in her class, giddy with excitement over all the day would have to offer.  How can I possibly compete with a class full of fun?  How could I possibly compete with Valentines parties, special little notes from friends, candy, PROM?

The enemy whispered, “Look at all the children are missing.  How dare you deprive them.”

I had already called a school holiday in favor of making Valentines and delivering them to friends and family.  I gathered the children to our kitchen counter and gave them various art supplies.  Stickers, glue, markers, crayons, scissors.

This was a far cry from the valentines I had originally anticipated Aubrey Ann making while she was in Kindergarten.  I had pictured her having these little Valentines that everyone would “ooh” and “ahh” over, like they had just marched themselves off of the pages of a Martha Stewart magazine.  I felt ashamed.  Ashamed that I didn’t march right off of the pages of a Martha Stewart magazine.

I watched the children.  Aubrey Ann helps her brother with the glue.  “Thank you Sissy.”

The Valentines are rudimentary.  Landon cuts out strips of paper and hastily glues on little hearts.  Aubrey Ann offers to help him cut out a heart.  Aubrey Ann writes little sentences, expressing her love to her family and friends.

I ask the Lord, “Is this enough?  Am I  enough?”  I feel His pleasure.

“You will never be enough.  I AM.”

About this time, Aubrey Ann hold up a Valentine that she is particularly proud of.  Her handwriting is shaky, her J is backwards, you can tell she had difficulties cutting the heart out of the center.  It reads:

Yes.  Yes.  This is enough. He is enough.

It isn’t a classroom full of children.  It isn’t perfectly purchased, or “Mommy made” valentines.  It isn’t a class party with cake and candy.  But it is enough.  And sometimes there is beauty in just being “enough”.

I watched my daughter help my son.  I watched as my son eagerly studied sissy as she created her valentines.  I watched them laugh as they discovered that their hands were covered in marker.  We baked cupcakes that turned out terrible.  We laughed at our hard, flat creations.  Aubrey Ann was perfectly pleased to wear green instead of red, or pink.  She didn’t even notice I had forgotten to pick out a special Valentines outfit.

Maybe “enough” is not only sufficient, it is good.  Maybe something is lost in making the picture perfect.  Maybe my enough, is better than my “perfect”.  Maybe my enough lets God make things perfect.  Maybe there is peace in my enough.

Valentines day wasn’t how I had pictured it.  It was full of messy hands, glue, stickers, dry cupcakes, and green outfits.  But it was enough.  Perfectly, enough.