I am plagued by doubt. It runs through me like a current of electricity coming out of me expressed in anxiety and an occasional angry outburst. I wonder too often, am I doing it right, am I doing enough, am I good enough to be doing what I am doing?
Marty no longer doubts, at least on the surface. She really truly believes I will never let her fall. When I reach down under her arms, pull back and pull her to standing she never doubts, she never worries that I will let her fall. Me, I have no doubt about the physical brute force part of the move but there is always a tinge of doubt, can I keep my balance.
Doubt, for me, is not a new thing; there has always been that voice in the back of my mind whispering, “Are you good enough?” Let’s be real, you hear it too. It’s almost an American past time.
As I grew up a Presbyterian in an Aggie household in west Texas that doubt was there. Was I a good enough student, was I a good enough athlete in our small town, was I a good enough person, and was I a good enough Christian.
It took years for me to come to grips with that last one. There are way too many people who want to convince us we are somehow not good enough, not strong enough, not Christian enough, but that’s a whole other story. Suffice it to say, I still carry doubts, I still wonder, am I good enough?
Marty, pre-stroke, despite her bravado and her confidence in her wit and wisdom experienced the same self doubt. She, like many of us, like most of us I think, struggled with the I’m not good enough, I can’t measure up, disease. We do it to each other, we do it to ourselves, and at times we unintentionally do it to our own people. Being good enough, smart enough, pretty enough, Christian enough, American enough is a national struggle.
Marty would never let me doubt myself too much or too long. She could be a harsh critic and I know in her heart of hearts at times in our life she wondered about my grit and my ability to stand in there. But, ultimately, she never let my doubt of myself stay for long. She had faith in my ability to work, to provide, to be a husband and to be a father. Marty had more faith in me than I did.
Today, she still does. Marty believes in me, she has faith that I will be good enough to care for her, that I will be strong enough to lift her and hold her safely, that I will be faithful enough to stay by her side, that I will be smart enough and persistent enough to make sure she is getting right and timely care. Once again, Marty has more faith in me, more of a belief that I am good enough, than I often do.
I am plagued with doubt about many things. I don’t know if my faith will sustain, I don’t know if I’m smart enough or aware enough to always catch the next minor medical problem before it becomes a major medical problem, there are days when I don’t know if I’m good enough.
But, what I know, without a doubt, without any hesitancy, is that I love Marty enough that I will always be there for her and when I lift her up, when I hold her, when I stand with her, I will never ever let her fall.
This I know.