Like the mess around my house right now. Tall scary thistle trees. Evidence of a two week vacation. And let's be honest. Evidence that a mostly lazy gardener lives here.
The mess in my kitchen sink. The mess of a suitcase still half packed. Maybe if I leave it in the corner long enough it will unpack itself from days' worth of dressing out of it...
There's a mess on my back porch, the side entry, and let's not forget that dadblame closet that I can't keep organized to save my life.
Get a little deeper. There's the mess in some of my relationships. You know the kind of stuff you can't post on a blog because it involves too many people, too close and couldn't be explained even if I tried. The mess in the fact that Adam and I just might be in a disagreement right now over ideas on life and getting things done. You know, messy married things that anyone that's been wedded 2.489 seconds or longer understands. The stuff that you know your relationship can withstand because of Jesus, but walking through it really sucks.
Most days I long to rush past the mess. I long for the peaceful. The calm. The 'Oh-My-Gosh-I'm-So-Crazy-In-Love-With-You' moments that feel so squishy and nice. The moments that good Instagram photos are made of. #crickets
But somehow I'm understanding that I need more mess in my life.
The mess teaches me humility. Teaches me desperate dependance. It reminds me that our days on this earth are not about my comfort, but more about my sanctification. And maybe it's in these moments of coming undone that it can slowly happen.
Because only after this comes the healing, a newfound gratitude. The hopeful stillness.
And of course the make-up kisses. They aren't so bad themselves.
^^ Prior to our Sunday mess ^^