By Krissa Rumsey

Am I a kind person? Am I generous? Do I care enough? Do I care too much? Am I involved in my community enough? Am I overcommitted?

Do I spend enough time with my kids? Do I give my kids enough space? Am I a helicopter parent? Am I too strict? Do we spend enough time in family devotion? (I know we don’t.)

Do we spend enough time being in the world … but not of it? Do I speak up for the underrepresented?

Am I educated enough? Should I devote more attention to my career? Should I look for a new one?

I’m tired. But I should cook more. I should prepare more freezer meals. We eat too much fast food.

I should learn to can the tomatoes growing in my garden. I should have a bigger garden.

I should tell others I love them more. I should show them I love them more. I should write more. Call more. I should eat less. Yell less. Worry less.

I’m tired. I will never measure up. Chief of sinners, yes, I be. Ugh.

Chief of sinners, yes, I be. Ugh.

This is the daily dialog that runs circles in my head. Chaotic, yes. Exhausting, yes. Futile, yes. And it reflects the chaos I envisioned as pastor described the scene on Mt. Carmel. The prophets of Baal behaved exhaustingly to attract the attention of their god. They danced wildly, bloodied themselves.

It is not at all hard to imagine the frenzy they worked themselves into just to get a response. To be noticed. Recognized. And for what? Nothing. Their god did not present. Did not provide relief. Did not display satisfaction toward their effort at all.

Their god was no god. Ugh. The prophet’s disappointment and despair must have been crushing.

After hearing the story on Sunday, I felt sorry for them. How could they not know? How could they not know their efforts were in vain? Listen to Elijah, for crying out loud. See? His God proved to be real. His God presented in a big way. His God did not forget his people.

His God says, “I am.” His God is the Alpha, the Omega, the beginning and the end. His God covered up all of the ways in which we don’t measure up through the blood of His Son. His God says, “Rest. Be still. And know that I am God.”

His God says, “Rest. Be still. And know that I am God.”

His God is my God. Your God. Elijah’s God is all we need. In the midst of the frenzy and the doubt and the self-loathing, I hear the Lord’s voice saying, “Be still. I am enough. No, really. I am enough. And I love you.”