Beautiful Mess

I’m spending each day here in the month of October writing about finding beauty in the everyday mess.  Before you think I’m an expert on this topic, let me confess: I’ve likely already lost my temper, prayed that I could have a solo vacation, and held back frustrated tears this morning.  I’m far from having this mastered.  I’m writing here transparently so that you and I might grow in seeking His daily extravagant beauty.  So pull up a chair and get ready to dive into the mess with me, knowing that somewhere in this mess is a beauty that only God can craft.

_________________________________________________________________________________________________

I used to be a bigger mess.

I used to be even more self-righteous.  Even more angry.  Even more sinful.

I used to lash out for days on end.  I used to throw never ending pity parties about my distinctly first world problems.

I used to be a dark mass of hardened sin crushed by the weight of no hope.

But God, being rich in mercy, because of the great love with which he loved me, even when I was dead in my trespasses, made me alive together with Christ—by grace I have been saved— and raised me up with him and seated me with him in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus, so that in the coming ages he might show the immeasurable riches of his grace in kindness toward me in Christ Jesus. Ephesians 2:4-7, changes from plural pronouns to singular ones are mine.

I don’t want you to miss those first two words: But God.

You see there’s is nothing that I can do to change my mess.  I still struggle with self-pity. I still struggle with unbridled rage.  But God, being rich in mercy, because he loved me sent Jesus to live the perfect life, die, and then rise again to defeat the eternal death I deserve.

That is the good news: there is nothing good in me and I cannot change, but God loved me enough to produce the change in me by grace that I do not deserve.

Christianity isn’t a religion of works.  It’s not saying, “I can conquer this mess.”  It’s a humble bowing to the Lord.  “I can’t do anything right apart from your work within me.  I will inevitably make this mess bigger and esteem it’s weight higher than anything else. Lord, help me to focus on the work you have done at the cross.  Help me to be a conduit of the love you give extravagantly. And call me back to you in repentance when I sin yet again.”

It’s a miracle of grace that He promises me good things even with my own ability to do nothing right. 

For the next couple of days, I’m going to talk about how the gospel informs living in the daily mess.  The gospel in our daily life shouldn’t be “Jesus died…. blah blah blah… old news. Now do everything right.”

 So what is the gospel, friends, and how does it transform the daily messy into the hope of glory?

I’m spending each day here in the month of October writing about finding
beauty in the everyday mess.  Before you think I’m an expert on this topic, let me confess: I’ve likely already lost my temper, prayed that I could have a solo vacation, and held back frustrated tears this morning.  I’m far from having this mastered.  I’m writing here transparently so that you and I might grow in seeking His daily extravagant beauty.  So pull up a chair and get ready to dive into the mess with me, knowing that somewhere in this mess is a beauty that only God can craft.

_________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

We have opportunities every day to delight in God. We’re surrounded by circumstances He has ordained for our sanctification. God’s grace to us in Christ gives us assurance to follow him where he leads, even when it’s into awkwardness, hard work, and pain. But every day we ignore the instruments that God would use in our lives to make us holy. If we’re not ignoring them, then we may worship them as god instead.

God’s triumphant grace in the work of Christ on the cross assures us of this: when our hope is in God’s glory for ourselves and others, then our life in the home is anything by dull, diminutive, and disappointing.

~Gloria Furman

Words are running short with me today… but Gloria’s words call my heart to focus on God’s glory.  May they do the same for you.

I’m spending each day here in the month of October writing about finding beauty in the everyday mess.  Before you think I’m an expert on this topic, let me confess: I’ve likely already lost my temper, prayed that I could have a solo vacation, and held back frustrated tears this morning.  I’m far from having this mastered.  I’m writing here transparently so that you and I might grow in seeking His daily extravagant beauty.  So pull up a chair and get ready to dive into the mess with me, knowing that somewhere in this mess is a beauty that only God can craft. _________________________________________________________________________________________________

My little boy said “I love you” to me the other night (October 6th).  I was tucking him in and he said it right back in his little voice.

Today is Sedryn’s birthday.  He turns two.  It’s almost too much for me to handle.

Two. It’s just too old to be a baby anymore.

This little person talks all the time and in full sentences.  His first sentence about half a year ago was, “I want cheese.”

He’s been using the potty all on his own for about two weeks now.  He won’t let me help him except with his pants and he’s not so good when we’re not at home 😉

He asks to snuggle.

Sedryn loves to chase his sisters with a stick or spatula or whisk.

He roars at everything.

Sedryn lays on my chest every time I try to do sit ups.  Every time.

He grew two inches in height since June.

He’s just too much.  No longer a baby and growing into a little boy.

It happened too quickly.  I almost wish I could go back to those exhausted days chasing two year olds and wearing this little person deep within my Ergo.

Almost. 😉

He’s more than likely our last baby and it went by too fast.

And even though the baby season went so fast, I’m not far enough away to say a pithy “Enjoy every moment… it’s too short.”

This baby and toddler season is the most exhausting season I’ve walked through yet on so many levels.  We become aware of our selfishness and we find out about the anger problem we didn’t think we had. We’re lacking sleep.  We’re trying to avoid being categorized or feeling judged by other moms when we just really want a true friend regardless of our mothering decisions.

You know I’m not being trite when I implore you to celebrate this season with gratitude.  Celebrate the one day out of five where the toddler didn’t write on the wall.  Thank your baby or toddler for sitting next to the dishwasher and ‘helping’ you with your chores. When they all attack you with hugs and kisses, stop and thank Him for giving these children to you.

I’ve written this before, but gratitude changes perspective even on the hard days.  So don’t enjoy every moment, because frankly there’s nothing enjoyable about some moments.  But commit to finding one moment to enjoy and be grateful for in every day, even the terrible no good awful days. I promise this practice will change you.

Happy Birthday, Sedryn Justice.  I love you!  Today I’m going to cherish snuggling you and listening to you point to the sky and shout “pane!!” over and over again.

I’m spending each day here in the month of October writing about finding beauty in the everyday mess.  Before you think I’m an expert on this topic, let me confess: I’ve likely already lost my temper, prayed that I could have a solo vacation, and held back frustrated tears this morning.  I’m far from having this mastered.  I’m writing here transparently so that you and I might grow in seeking His daily extravagant beauty.  So pull up a chair and get ready to dive into the mess with me, knowing that somewhere in this mess is a beauty that only God can craft.

_________________________________________________________________________________________________

When I was a little girl around the age of my girls now, my daddy used to cut my corn off the cob for me.  He would butter and salt it.  Then he would stand it on end and cut down the side of the cob.  The corn would fall into these beautiful golden quilted blankets. I would gobble them up almost as fast as dad could cut them.

I don’t have a lot of memories of childhood and the ones I do are simple like this one: Sheets of corn on the cob, my mother’s penny loafers, the sound of knitting needles hard at work, the rat thing drama in our fort, learning to ride my bike, and getting scolded for constantly singing at the dinner table.

I think I’m not the only one who carries this load of motherhood guilt.  The one that says we should play with them more, or take them to Disney more, or go on great vacations, or take them to more lessons.  We feel like what we do is never enough.

I think that’s a lie. What we do is enough, because childhood memories are built of simple things like how my dad cut my corn off the cob.  Simple everyday things like the smell of my grandmothers perfume.  Simple everyday things like helping my mom grate cheese on taco night.  Simple everyday things like the way my sister and I composed synchronized swimming routines.

I took lessons and had recitals.  I’m sure we went on many vacations (though they all blur together into one). I have nothing but a host of vague memories about those things  But the detailed memories I enjoy the most are simple things.

There’s grace for our everyday mistakes built right into how our children form memories. Children either remember small joys or intense trauma.  Most of children will never experience intense trauma so know that your children are storing a wealth of joyful memories.

Apologize when you fail them, and then keep inviting them into your space to be loved on.  Bake a cake together, throw up the autumn leaves, and cut these last summer kernels from the cob for their enjoyment.  These are the things memories are formed from. These are the things you’re likely already doing.

I’m spending each day here in the month of October writing about finding beauty in the everyday mess.  Before you think I’m an expert on this topic, let me confess: I’ve likely already lost my temper, prayed that I could have a solo vacation, and held back frustrated tears this morning.  I’m far from having this mastered.  I’m writing here transparently so that you and I might grow in seeking His daily extravagant beauty.  So pull up a chair and get ready to dive into the mess with me, knowing that somewhere in this mess is a beauty that only God can craft. _________________________________________________________________________________________________

There are days when I am the chief mess maker in the house.

My attitude sets the children’s mood thermostat almost every single day.  And my attitude during the past 10 days has been downright sinful. So we’ve had a sin filled sort of week.

I’ve felt like a failure, resented the chaos, not asked for help, and haven’t wanted to confess them mess. My heart growing hard makes us all sin-sick and weary.

I’m running laps in the dark early Monday morning when it hits me: after repentance, gratitude is the only cure for my rotten attitude. 

I reach for the gratitude journal and gasp shocked when I see the last entry was over a year ago.  #4545.  “Only one pukey child.”  It makes me laugh.  This week there’s only been heart sickness, but last year this time I was pulling Sedryn out of vomit covered crib sheets and giving him tortured baths.

I scratch down the date and write:

4546. The heart softening power of grace and repentance

4547. Baby boy in big kid underwear

4548. Date with a chatty Aeralind

4549. Bronwyn telling full stories of her day

I smile feeling my heart lighten as I write down tiny shards of beauty in our sin-fulled mess.  This neglected gratitude journal is my reset button.