Another co-worker got promoted today.

When I read the news, my immediate instinct was to walk away from my computer screen. I went to the kitchen and mindlessly opened a can of cat food for the kitties. My fingers were cold and tingly as I grabbed their food bowls off the dish rack.

My colleague is a great worker, young and smart and hard-working, and the promotion is deserved. But it’s yet another painful reminder, as others surpass me in speed and status, how stuck I am despite my best effort.

I tend to think people should be rewarded in proportion to the amount of effort they give to their work. Hard workers deserve more than the lazies. Greater sacrifice deserves greater reward. It’s one of the reasons I’m prone to working myself to the bone – I’ve so often been enticed by status and recognition; to hear the words, “you’re great,” “there’s no one like you,” “you’re indispensable.”

But oh, how dispensable I am. Even on my hardest-working, near-bone-breaking, days.

Going through cancer and its aftermath, I’ve thought often about disability and how the playing field will never be level for those of us who have this cross to bear. No matter how hard we try or how much we sacrifice, the simple truth is that our disability diminishes our capacity, and we are physically and/or mentally unable to do the same amount of quality work in the same amount of time as those who do not have to carry these burdens.

Life isn’t fair.

I wish I could be a better person and celebrate those who are recognized for their unhindered, disability-free achievements.. I have hope that someday I will. But for now, I mostly hurt.

Because my best isn’t good enough.

I filled the cats’ food dishes and walked them over to their feeding spot, the kitties leading the way with cheerfully upright tails. As I watched them lap up their lunch and purr in contentment, I dug deeper into the pain I was feeling about my best not being good enough, and those words kept repeating in my head.

Not good enough. Not good enough. Not good enough.

Good enough, for who?

Can my best be good enough for me? Because I know in my heart of hearts that my best is not for the approval of man, but for the glory of God.

Though my colleagues and bosses cannot appreciate my best efforts and more often than not cannot even see my sacrificial efforts to go beyond my call of duty – God sees. And when I work for him, striving for excellence for his glory only and in obedience to what he has given me to do in this season, with the strength and provision he provides me, I trust he is pleased. Even though my best only amounts to filthy rags in his holiness and perfection, he accepts my works of obedience with pleasure.

And that should be – will be – more than good enough for me.