I ran the hills of southern France again today, inhaling honeysuckle, feeling a slight breeze against my face. The scenery here is breathtaking. Just as a stand of evergreens and a glimpse of Mount Rainier used to awe me as a child, so does seeing the Sea, the Alps, the palm trees.

But it wasn’t enough.

If you’ve been reading my blog for any length of time, you may have detected my small agonies. Loneliness. Stress. Worry. Being a church planter is hard. Living in a nation not your own is often bewildering. Not being able to fully communicate when communication is how you process and view the world is excruciating. Sometimes I’ve felt like I lost myself and that the ME I once was has tumbled off a French cliff, never to be resurrected.

On my run I saw two dead critters (to use a Texas word). A coiled snake right at my feet. A white cat with a bulged out eye (made me almost hurl!). Sometimes I feel like that in this cross-culturization. Dead. Lifeless.

So, Jesus whispered to me again, as I pondered the dead creatures. “Am I enough?”

The scenery isn’t enough to fill me. The amazing culture isn’t either. People can’t fully. Maybe I’m here to learn my lack. To see the need to grab His hand when I’m walking in the dark. Is Jesus enough? Oh, I hope so. Because I’m empty and weary.