Sunday, March 13, 2016

My Mess Speaks

I'm pretty sure people who follow my blog will never want to have children.

But if you read my friend's blog (over at Tall Pine Nest <--link), you'll be jonesing to crank out #allthebabies ASAP. Cauuuse, I mean. Seriously. Adorable. With the poetry and the candles and the library books. Bless. On my very best day, I'm not this cute.

Here's the thing... both stories are telling the truth.
Yes, Susanne really is that "with it" and her life really is that beautiful.
Yes, I really am this conflicted and scattered and melodramatic. In fact, my life is probably more messy than I share... because a girl's gotta have SOME pride. Sheesh. (We shall not speak of how my kitchen floor is coated in so much sand it could almost grow crops.)

She is calm and elegant. I am wild and chaotic. We are both living into who we are... trying to do so in the best way we can.

My daily struggle is to not be a total mess. BUT in the midst of this, I have found a bigger quest: To see the Beautiful in the Mess. To accept daily that all does not need to be polished, pinterest quality, picture worthy, and pristine to be priceless. To be worthy! To leave a legacy.

But sometimes I really doubt myself.
Sometimes I can't see it.
I just can't.

That's why I haven't been writing.

Sometimes I can't see the beauty that's hidden in the avocado and oatmeal covered EVERYTHING that is my life.

Sometimes this beautiful mess just looks like... a mess.
A conflicted, distracted pile of LESS.
A mound of Not Enough.
A mountain of Inadequate.

Sometimes it's clear to me that heaven has given me a struggle + a voice so that I can tell a story that speaks to all our hearts. So that WE can stand strong together and say, "Yes!" to the beauty of an honest struggle. Yes to redemption in chaos. Yes to value without polish. Yes to each other wherever we are. Yes to grace.

But sometimes all I can see here is a loud mouthed whiner who overshares when she should be doing her dishes.

She should get herself together. She should quit sighing and start scrubbing. She should stop shaking her head and start shaking a leg. Maybe if you weren't writing a blog you wouldn't have small boy sized footprints on ev-er-y-thaaang. (Because boys have all the dirt. Always. And no judgement. Ever.)

There's truth on both sides. Right?
Really. I won't pretend that the negative perspective is just wrongheadedness. There's something there. There's a morsel of wisdom. Strength and weakness are often found on opposite sides of the same coin, right? It is good to pine toward the best version of ourselves... but we can't think that this means being someone else.

Being the Best Blair I can be does not mean being Susanne.

All we are, is all we are.

What I am is what I have to offer to you, dear ones. And you offer you. We're only whole together.

And what is more... Everything we have, we have been given. It is not for nothing that He has made you who you are today, and me who I am, and them who they are.

Letting our lives speak is, more often than not, about accepting the voice we have... raising it, even if it's not exactly singing in our favorite key. Even if we're not totally sure what song is being played and we're going pitchy in the chorus.

If we look at our songs in isolation, the off notes can be disheartening. But somehow, together, they make a lovely harmony. When my weakness lets your strength shine, and your weakness let's my voice speak... that's where big magic happens. That's when the mess becomes beautiful.

When I doubt myself, I'm usually just focusing on myself instead of us.
Will you remind me to raise my eyes?
Remind me to lift up my head like those ancient gates that the psalmist sang about, that the King of Glory may come in, strong and mighty.
Remind me that I am a handmaiden serving in a small corner of this big beautiful story, and don't worry because you're serving with me and together we've got it covered.

Remind me, every once in a while, that God can use my mess just as well as my strengths. That His power, with Paul, is made perfect in my weakness... because when I am weak, then I am strong. Remind me that my mess speaks.

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