Somewhere in your broken, beautiful story, you were told or made to feel “less than.”
Maybe it was as innocent as you were—the only one with glasses or braces or the first girl in your class to wear a bra. Why can’t I be like everyone else?
Or maybe your less-than status was loud and vicious. They told you your skin was the wrong color, your stutter made you stupid, and your wheelchair was to be pitied. Why did God make me “less than?”
Maybe it wasn’t so obvious. It’s just you’ve always had this sneaking suspicion that something was off about you. Deep down you knew “they” thought of you as not enough. What is wrong with me?
Friend, this letter is for you—and me. It’s for every woman who has ever felt “less than.”
But first, a word of caution: it’s not a simple note of encouragement—some nice words that don’t change a single thing.
It’s a challenge—a call-to-action.
Are you up for it?
First, You Must Know You Are Seen
You feel as if you are too different—like the pain of all your separateness could tear your heart apart.
And you’re not alone.
Countless women are hearing varying iterations of “you are less than.”
Your skin is the wrong color. Your mental health struggles are unacceptable. You were born into the wrong family, on the wrong side of the tracks in the wrong country speaking the wrong language. You are “less than.”
Your sexuality, gender identity, and where you use the bathroom are “less than.”
Your divorce, your abortion, your porn addiction—“less than.”
Your weight, your disabilities, your mental aptitude—“less than.”
You even have identifiers right there on your titles proclaiming you as “less than”—adopted, step, single, divorced, widowed, orphaned.
It’s always there—this undercurrent of I’m never going to be enough, I’m never going to fit in—everyone is better than me.
Of course, this constant wondering and confirmation of where exactly we stand in the hierarchy of good enough make us feel like our hearts are breaking. Of course.
Will we ever be enough? sufficient? adequate? Will we ever be cured of our not-good-enough status?
The world ranks us from idol status all the way down to pitiful existence.
But God drops us all to the bottom, face pressed against the dirt. For when there are only two steps on the ladder—holy and unholy—we are all on equal footing.
And Jesus is the only way to the top rung. No amount of striving or succeeding or negotiating can move you anywhere other than flat against your own depths of hell. I’ll say it again—Jesus’s way is the only way to the top rung.
The world doesn’t get to decide if we are less than. God has already chosen to turn the less than into more than enough. More than sufficient. More than adequate. His. Beloved. Heir.
So what are a bunch of “less than” but deeply loved and eternally saved women supposed to do? What do we do with our hurts and ostracized-ness? Where do we go from here?
A Challenge for the “Less Thans”
Sweet friend, our “less than” statuses give us an advantage. For we know the deep pain of not being enough, we know what to look to comfort the broken. We get to come beside another and say “me too,” but I’ve found the way to abundance.
I see you. I’ve been there. I am there. But I know the way. Follow me to the only One who deserves to be followed. This is our testimony to give—less than to more than enough.
I’m challenging us to ask God to open our eyes to our hurting sisters needing the reminder of the Good News and to lead us to the broken who’ve yet to be told they are Beloved and Enough because He is.
It may still sting. We may all feel like our hearts are attacking and shattering and simply can’t take it. But here in this less-than status, we are fully and sufficiently poised to love.
We could all wallow in what the world thinks of us and continue to shove each other down. Or we can band together—as beloved, forgiven daughters—on a mission to let every “less-than woman,” every “least of these” know how insanely and irrevocably loved they are.
Let it be our “less than” cry : You’re more than enough—because He is.
Are you up for the challenge, friend? What do we, as beloved daughters, have to lose?
Let’s go love well.