Held

I would venture to say that most people tend to take the last few days of a year to glance back at the roller coaster ride that they have just been on. For better or worse, the ride is nearly over. Memories were made, mistakes were made, progress was made.

For some the past year holds a whole lot of pain. For others, it was one giant celebration. For most it falls somewhere in the middle.

Years end, and we look backward but move forward.

Maybe it was just me and the people by whom I am surrounded, but as a whole? 2014 seemed kind of tough. If finances or health weren't a concern, then something funky was going on in a core relationship. If all was well on the surface, then things were in turmoil in the inner person. If it wasn't happening personally, then it was all over the news or Facebook and it still took a toll on one's peace of mind. It kind of felt like many people I know rode wave after wave of bad, sad, or dire news. It kind of feels like many I know are limping near the finish line of this year, bruised and beaten up.

Bring it on, 2015.

Last week was a little rough, physically speaking, for my Finny Matt. He got his fingers shut into a door, banged his head on a bookshelf and a cousin's teeth, and cracked his elbow on a hard piece of wood in our couch while jumping (how?????)

He's been a little beaten up.

In each of these situations, as he has screamed a scream that makes the hair on my arms stand at attention and my heart beat a million miles a minutes, in those first few moments all I have done is held him. I held him, as close as I could, as tight as he would let me. I didn't want to examine or fix his pain until I could calm his spirit. In those first few moments, I held him and whispered into his ear, "It's okay, it's okay, it's okay, you're okay." I'm not sure if I was trying to convince myself or him.

As I was holding and whispering to him after cracking his chin on our bookshelf, it made me think of how God reacts when we feel brutally beaten up by the world in which we live. Maybe, perhaps, in those first few moments or days when we experience a sharp pain, His main priority is to hold us. He's not fixing our problem or our wound, He's not making it less painful, He's simply holding us as tight as He can.

It is tempting to get impatient with God when we feel like it takes Him too long to address our aches and pains. However, if we could tune into His whisper above our screams of pain, we may just even hear Him whisper, "It's okay, it's okay, it's okay, you're okay. I've got this. We'll get through this. Hold on."

I was talking about this metaphor with my in-laws, and my father-in-law looks at me a little skeptically. "So, what if someone's arm gets ripped off and they are gushing blood? Would you still just want to hold them?"

It made me think. My metaphor-driven brain can sometimes simplify things too much, I admit.

As a mother, if this happened to my son, I would grab the arm (I think. If I could. I might gag.) But I would still hold him close as possible as we made our way to the nearest emergency room.

As our Father God, I absolutely believe that He picks up our broken pieces (which don't gross Him out at all) and still holds us tight before He begins the process of healing our wounds.

I guess I go into all of this to encourage someone who may be reading this. If your world has been rocked, or your year has been awful, or you don't know which end is up, chances are good that God is holding onto you as tight as He can.

Pay attention; you may even be able to feel His touch or hear Him whisper words of comfort.

Psalm 119:76: "May your unfailing love be my comfort, according to your promise to your servant".

Isaiah 40:11: "Like a shepherd, he will care for his flock, gathering the lambs in his arms, hugging them as he carries them, leading the nursing ewes to good pasture."

Harmony

Harmony can be defined in multiple ways:
1. "An orderly or pleasing combination of elements in a whole"
2. "A relationship in which various components exist together without destroying one another"
3. "A relationship characterized by a lack of conflict or by agreement, as of opinion or interest"

Harmony can be a way of life. It can also be musical, one voice or instrument added to another, in order to create an even more beautiful song.

One could say that it was music that brought me and Matt together. I joined the worship team, we sang together, we cracked jokes, and we bonded over a mutual love of nerdy '90's movies and tv shows.

But it all started with the music. And the worship.

From the beginning, Matt was the soloist and I plugged away trying to learn harmony. Learning harmony was something that took intentional practicing for me; it was something I had to work to perfect (and to be honest, I still don't have it perfected).

I remember growing up in church, I would stand next to my mom and listen to her sing. She rarely ever sang the melody of a song; rather, she would effortlessly find the harmony. When I was young, I wondered why she wasn't singing the melody with everyone else. I didn't understand that she was simply making the song more lovely and complex.

When the time came in which I was trying to learn harmony, there were times it was fairly easy and others that it was more difficult. It depended upon the key of the song and the complexity of the melody, and I had to learn how to blend in my voice. But I loved it.

I especially loved singing with Matt (and not just because he was super dreamy). I loved molding my voice to his and instinctively knowing where he was going to go with a song. It is still one of my favorite things to do with my husband - sing harmony over his melody.

Matt and I have been married 6 years (happy anniversary to us!), and as I was reflecting on our relationship this week, I was thinking about how marriage itself is often like harmony.

There is a blending that is needed when you bring two separate lives together. And it's a skill that takes some perfecting.

When Matt is working hard and pursuing his goals, he is leading our family in a way similar to how one can lead a song. One of my main joys as a wife is to support Matt's gifts and goals and leadership. When I see Matt using his gifts, I want to do whatever I can to help and invest in his success. I want to bolster his efforts however I can. If he is the strong melody, I become the harmony, there to back him and help him shine.

I love seeing him shine.

Plus, the beauty of it all is that it goes both ways. When my gifts and goals are the focus and I carry the melody, Matt creates some beautiful harmony. When I was completing my masters degree and had homework and internship and commitments, Matt dedicated himself to doing whatever he could do to help me finish strong. If he had to rearrange his schedule to keep Finn so I could study, he did. If he had to do extra cooking and cleaning around the house so we weren't living in Sty-ville, he did. These days, he joyfully will watch the boys so that I can meet with one of our young adult women. I support his gifts, he supports my gifts.

Two voices, one lovely strain.

When I act in ways that support Matt's gifts, abilities, and goals, I harmoniously strengthen him. And vice versa.
On the other hand, if I act in ways that tear him down or make it difficult for him to succeed, I create a dissonant noise in our relationship and family. Nobody wants to listen to that kind of song, filled with contentious and mismatched notes. Unless you're like, into scream-o stuff.

"A quarrelsome wife is like the dripping of a leaky roof in a rainstorm" Proverbs 27:15

When you live with someone day in and day out, knowing their quirks and weaknesses and struggles almost as well as you know your own, it's not a blissful Hallmark movie kind of existence. It's much too real for that. The choice is to either create harmony through love and support, or exist in dissonance.

In this life that we are blessed to build together, our mutual goal is to let God write the song. With Matt as the head of our family, I trust him to lead us as the melody. I will do whatever I can to support and complement his melody by being a steady harmony in his life.

And, I imagine Finn can click us off on the drums while Jonas strums away on guitar.

Matt is my best friend. He still gives me whirligigs because he's so stinking handsome. He is committed to our family and loves to let us know it through his actions. I'm so, so, so delighted to be his harmony. He's still one of my favorite gifts from God. Ever.

Love is a privilege and not a right. It takes work and action and intentionality.

But it's beautiful. It's oh, so beautiful and oh, so worth it.

Learn the harmony and pour forth the love.

"If I speak in the tongues of men or of angels, but do not have love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal" 1 Corinthians 13:1

- Wait for It -

Two years ago, Halloween was difficult for me. There was a huge party at our church and we had gotten the CUTEST costume for Finn - a monkey for our monkey.

However, I could not take him because I had class. I could not even consider skipping class because I had a presentation that evening. It was brutal to miss such a special night.

So, while I presented on things to remember when counseling Asian Americans, I longed to be with my monkey boy. My body was in a classroom in Vermillion, but my heart was with my boy at his first Halloween party. I rushed out of class and tried to make it to a bit of the party, but by the time I got there, my mom had already changed Finn out of his costume because it was making him so warm. I did not get to see him in his costume on Halloween. I didn't even get a picture!

It was possibly the most difficult night of that whole semester for me, but I knew that I had to push through and finish my classes. It was simply a sacrifice that had to be made. It was one year. I could miss some stuff for one year while finishing my degree. That's what I told myself, but I didn't always believe me. I wanted to be with my boy.

By the time the next Halloween rolled around, I was so stinking excited to go with my boys (I had two by then) that I watched the calendar days pass with eager anticipation, praying that no one would get sick.

We arrived at the church early that night so that the boys could see their dad for a bit before the party really got started. As Matt is employed at the church, he always has jobs to do throughout the event and couldn't help much with the boys.

Once Matt had to leave, I went up to his office so that I could nurse Jonas and get both boys dressed in their costumes. As I was working trying to get them both dressed and keep them content, a single thought crossed my mind.............

"This is haaard. Have I really been waiting a year for this? When does the fun start?"

Did I really wait a year to finagle the boys into their costumes, have Jonas spit up on his 30 minutes later, have my own half-hearted costume destroyed by the end of the night, carry Jonas around for 3+ hours without a break, watch Finn spend almost 2 hours on the same blow-up slide only to then walk around in his Superman t-shirt and bare feet when he got too hot, and get a headache from my obnoxious '80's hairdo?

Yes!!!!!

This past year was better, thanks to a massive assist from Matt's mom. But still, I was pooped by the end of the night. Chasing two toddlers around a big church filled with lots of exciting things is, in a word, exhausting. It's so, so fun, but it's also hard.

I realize the older that I get that the hard stuff is the good stuff. Anything worth anything is going to be worth some sort of battle.

Marriages, dream jobs, sweet and respectful children, good relationships........

all of these things take hard work and committment. Some days it may not all seem to be truly worth it.

But what we value is shown by what we fight for.

We are tenacious with those things that we are passionate about.

So was the Halloween wait worth it for me when it proved to be a lot of work? Two years in a row?

Absotutely-rutely.

The look on Finn's face as he tackled each new inflatable with non-relinquishing gusto.
Getting to see Jonas wear the monkey costume that I missed seeing on Finn.
Watching other adorable kids in their costumes and seeing that this outreach was a blessing to the community.

The hard stuff is the good stuff.
The good stuff is haaaaaaard.

But oh so very worth it.

I think that God often allows a waiting time into our lives before we get something that we truly desire. Since the good stuff CAN be hard at times, we are less likely to take it for granted or wish it away if we had to wait and pine for it before we received it.

Paul comes to my mind; Paul and his desire to visit Rome. Paul longed to visit Rome and encourage them. He writes to the Roman church in Romans 1:10-12 - "And God, whom I so love to worship and serve by spreading the good news of his Son-the Message!-knows that every time I think of you in my prayers, which is practically all the time, I ask him to clear the way for me to come and see you. The longer this waiting goes on, the deeper the ache. I so want to be there to deliver God's gift in person and watch you grow stronger right before my eyes!"

It is safe to say that Paul yearned to visit the Roman church, but he states in verse 13 that "something has always come up and prevented it".

It is so tempting to start shaking a mighty finger at God when we feel as though we have been waiting too long.

It was tempting to do that when I was missing Halloween night with my Finn two years ago. "This is a big event in his life, God! Why tonight? I HATE SCHOOOOOOOL!!!!" (I don't really, but I am known to be a little dramatic when my emotions get stirred).

And that is just one example of many. There are many bigger, tougher things for which to wait. It was tough being single and waiting to meet Matt. It was tough finishing my internship and waiting for that blissful graduation date. There have been tough times waiting for a good job, relational healing, God to speak. The list could go on and on and is unique for each person.

But in my experience with waiting, I have come to know a few things. God is amazingly faithful. I see when I look back in retrospect the beauty of His ways and why He works like He does. God doesn't move when I want Him to, He moves when He needs to. He does not withhold things from me that are necessary for His plans. His ways are good and trustworthy, even when they make zero sense to me.

I don't have to make sense of God. I need to trust Him.

"Then the Lord replied: 'Write down the revelation and make it plain on tablets so that a herald may run with it. For the revelation awaits an appointed time; it speaks of the end and will not prove false. Though it linger, wait for it; it will certainly come and will not delay.'" (Habakkuk 2:2-3)

I also have come to see the tenderness of God in restoring what has been lost. Even being able to see Jonas in the monkey costume was so sweet for me. It will never replace not seeing Finn in it or not celebrating that night with him, but there was a redemptive quality to passing the costume on and watching that monkey butt waddle around the entire church.

I even see it within our greater family. My brother Matt was killed in a car accident when he was 22 years old. Our family now has two more Matts in it, plus two sweet first-borns with Matthew as a middle name. The fact that our family is so laughably exploding with boys (my mom just became a grandmother to her 8th grandson) screams to me about God's love and mercy. This bounty of boys will never replace the one that was lost, but there is a restorative healing that comes when we embrace the many that we have now. 

The waiting is not wasted. Nothing is ever wasted in God's hand.

Romans 8:28 says, "And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose."

With that said, how do we know that we are waiting well?

Whatever you do have at this moment, be faithful with it. Take whatever you've been given and invest it (Matthew 25:14-30). Don't bury it and twiddle your thumbs, waiting for what you "really" want.

I think of Matt, who worked as a special education teacher for years before he stepped into a job he fully desired as a worship leader. I had a front row seat to see how God used those years of waiting to deepen Matt's relationship with Himself, to increase his skills, and broaden his support system. Those things have been essential to Matt's success as a worship leader because, newsflash: life in the ministry is not easy.

Matt did not idly sit around and long for a different job, but he made himself useful how he could and God ushered him into a great position at a time when God could receive the glory.

If you're single and waiting, stop giving energy to looking for the right one and use this waiting time to become the right one. Practice doing relationship well by valuing your friends and family and helping them feel loved. 

If you're waiting for that perfect job, be excellent at the one you already have.
If you are in a season of "stuckness" and don't know what's on the horizon or what you even want and you certainly don't know how to get there, invest the time by studying His Word and His ways. Then, whenever you do get to the next step, you'll be taking it in closer relationship with Him. There's no bad there.

"It's in the season of waiting where character is forged and refined. It's where we learn new skills, discover what we're passionate (and not passionate) about. Don't waste your wait." (Joel Delgado, Relevant Magazine). 

Deeper Waters

It's no secret to most who have read my blog before or know me in person that I like to play it safe. I've written about it on numerous occasions - I like the consistency and comfort of doing things the way they "should" be done. I color inside the lines, obey the rules, and sing the song the way it was written.

I looooove organization and everything in it's proper place. It's why I still enjoy playing Tetris (sorting?? Yes please!). It's why I beg Matt to let me alphabetize his music at church. It's why, when my sister gave me several pairs of funky, purposefully non-matching socks as a gift and declared, "You can mix and match how you want!", I paired them with their best possible match and have stuck to those pairings like glue.

I think, up until now, that God has been good with this facet of my personality. And I'm almost positive that He has used it to protect me from numerous situations. After all, those who play it safe and use discretion are often operating in wisdom.

But lately, He has been revealing to me how much more there is. There are deeper waters, where feet can't touch the bottom and one must use trust as a flotation device to stay above the water.

A couple of months ago, Matt had the opportunity to sing in the wedding of a couple of our young adults. I had gone back and forth about whether or not the boys and I should go. Originally, I was going to go, but the closer the wedding crept, the more hesitant I became. After all, wouldn't it be hard to go camping with the boys? Especially if Matt was playing through the whole ceremony and I would have them by myself? At a wedding? Where I had to keep them quiet? Or risk humiliation? Wouldn't my boys lose out on sleep and be cranky? And like, cry and stuff?

These were my thoughts. I went back and forth in my head and ruminated for weeks about whether or not to go. When the time came to finally make a decision, I played it safe. We weren't going to go, because the boys are so much easier to manage on our home turf. We could have our routine, and our comforts, and our pretty little scheduled nap times. We would just have to do without daddy and the joy of seeing two of my favorites get married.

However, through a series of fortunate conversations, I changed my mind. I kicked my butt and my thoughts into action and I started envisioning the fun and the adventure versus the possible stressors and mishaps.

I look back on that trip now and I cannot believe I almost chose to miss it because it might feel a little hard or unsafe. That trip was a fabulous blast. It was a fablast!!

There have been a couple of our young adult women that have truly inspired me by their boldness and unabashed desire for God. I want to live like that. Not timidly shirking scary situations, but embracing God's plan in them.

The other day, Finn was looking at a children's book that had an illustration of a mermaid whose illustrator had forgotten to draw a bikini top for her (a kid's book…are you kidding me? Take a moment and draw a top on the nude lady, illustrator!!!) When I saw it, I took a permanent marker and nonchalantly colored a top for her myself. Finn wasn't very happy with me.

I allowed him to cry and vent at me for awhile,  but then I invited him to sit in my lap. Once he had calmed down, I told him, "Finny, it is mommy's job to protect you and keep you safe". Although he initially furrowed his brow and stated, "I don't need 'tection", eventually he accepted what I had done and we hugged it out.

Likewise, I need to walk more often in the truth that it is not my job to protect myself or keep myself safe.

I don't need to stay on the beach or even close to shore just in case a storm comes in. Rather, I need to allow myself to be drawn out where my faith can be strengthened amidst the waves. It is vital to learn to trust in God's protection and care of me. I know this. I know this. I know this.

I'm stepping out into deeper water here, folks. But the craziest thing is that, the further I walk, the more secure I feel. The deeper the waters, the deeper the peace.

There is freedom waiting to be gained when we can trust God more than our safe places. He is the ultimate safe place.

After all, it's His job to 'tect us…

especially in the most adverse of conditions.

"The Lord will fight for you. You need only to be still." - Exodus 14:14

"For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but a spirit of power and of love and of a sound mind" - 1 Timothy 1:7 NKJV

"You can only be marked as safe if you've fashioned for yourself a God small and tame. And what the world desperately needs is more dangerous disciples of an unsafe God" - Ann Voskamp

Life is Heavy

I read an article the other day about a father who was being charged with murder by way of neglect. He had been home alone with his two daughters, ages 2 and 3, when he heard a loud noise come from their room. Rather than investigate said noise and make sure his daughters were okay, he stayed in his comfortable position. On the toilet. #2. 

It wasn't until many minutes later that he checked on his daughters and found them both dead, suffocated by the weight of a dresser that had fallen upon them. 

I was randomly thinking of that story this morning. For one, it breaks my heart. I imagined what it may have been like for those two helpless girls. What kinds of things were going through their minds as they passed from life to death? One thought that had to have crossed their minds was,

"Daddy will come through that door at any second and rescue us!"

I just can't imagine a scenario where they wouldn't have been waiting for their father to come and lift the weight of the dresser so they could return to their playing. 

As all these thoughts were scrambling through my brain, it reminded me of what it feels like to live without Christ. 

I have. I've tried to do things on my own. I sometimes jokingly refer to my "rebel years" as the times when I drank and shoplifted and played with figurative fire. 

The behavior was secondary. What was going on in my mind and heart was a curiosity that figured there was so much more than "just living for God". 

Sure it seemed as though I had the freedom to do whatever, whenever. But I had never felt less free. I was chained to pleasing my friends and showing them that I could be as tough and as careless. In actuality, I was being suffocated. I was slowly dying beneath the weight of all the junk the world has to offer. 

But this post is not about my suffocation. It is about my rescue. 

I have a Father who did come for me. 

When I compare what it's like to do life with God versus doing life without Him, the closest analogy I can think of is that feeling of suffocating. Striving to breathe while it only gets more difficult to do so. Gasping for any tiny breath to fill up the lungs for just one more second. 

Life is heavy. It can suffocate in a moment or throughout a lifetime. There is no shortage of baggage that adds to the weight: Death. Sickness. Poverty. Disappointment. Depression. Doubt. Heartbreak. Failure. Loss. Perfectionism.

There is a very real struggle going on. 

It only takes one "Yes" to God and He bounds in at the chance to lift the weight of all that seeks to suffocate us. He is a Father who can be trusted to save. He aches to save. 

In Him alone is there hope, and help, and healing. 

Safety in Darkness

Jonas' new favorite thing to do is to climb up onto his big brother's toddler bed. Maybe it is because it has a cool red blanket strewn on top of it in order to create a fort-like atmosphere. Maybe it is because Finn's bed is more fun to bounce upon. Maybe it is because he has been told over and over again NOT to do it. Judging from his mischievous smile when he gets caught, I think it may be the latter.

Last night, I followed him into the room and shadowed him as he climbed up on the bed for like, the 15th time that day. Since I am battling a nasty sore throat and fever, I just did not have the energy to lift him off again. So I joined him. I laid down in the bed with him, and if he got too close to the edge, I mustered the power to steady him.

It wasn't too long before Finn joined us. To a three year old, a situation like this screams, "PARTY IN MY BED!!!!!" Finn laughingly turned on the noise machine and turned off the light, delighting in the fact that we were having a 'sleeping party'.

Unsurprisingly, Jonas was not a fan of this new twist. The lights had been shut off for him and the fun had stopped. I could feel him in the dark grappling to find his balance because he could know longer see where he was. I felt him, ever so slowly, sidle over to me. He touched my face and my arms to make sure it was me, and then he clung to me. I spoke to him as he searched and told him he was okay.

I enjoyed every second of the snuggles, however brief they were. Because 5 seconds later, Finn bounded to the light switch again and turned the lights back on. Just like that, Jonas started scooting further away from me again. He felt safe with the light back on and so he went back to doing whatever he wanted.

Until once again, Finn hysterically shuts the light off and we are basked in darkness. Then the searching and grasping for my arm and face resumed.

This hilarity ensued for a good five minutes before mommy regained the strength to put an end to the madness.

In the light, Jonas giggled and played and made daring attempts to fly past me off of the bed. In the darkness, Jonas cuddled and clung closely to whatever part of me he could find.

And I'm laying there thinking, isn't that what we too often do with God?

When the light is on and we can see where we're going, when things are rosy and sunshiny and going our way, we edge away from Him by pursuing our own desires or whatever is making us happy and fulfilling our needs in that moment.

But when the lights go out on us, what then? We suddenly feel alone and afraid. We struggle through the darkness to find any piece of Him that we can. When we find Him, we hold on tight to His love, and strength, and peace. We know we are safe with Him in the dark.

But oh….to know that it is safe with Him in the light as well. To know that the best place to be on the brightest days of our lives is STILL right by His side, clinging to His hand.

When we remain by His side, we do not need to be afraid that the light around us might suddenly go dark.
When we remain by His side, we don't waste time trying to struggle in the darkness by ourselves.
When we remain by His side, we get to experience the brightest highs and the darkest lows with the One who loves us stronger and knows us better than we could ever imagine.

There's no safer place than that.

"For anyone out there who doesn't know where you're going, anyone groping in the dark, Here's what: Trust in God. Lean on your God." Isaiah 50:10 (MSG)

"'Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name; you are Mine! When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; And through the rivers, they will not overflow you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be scorched, nor will the flame burn you. For I am the Lord your God, The Holy One of Israel, your Savior; I have given Egypt as your ransom, Cush and Seba in your place. Since you are precious in my sight, Since you are honored and I love you, I will give other men in your place and other peoples in exchange for your life. Do not fear, for I am with you." Isaiah 43:1-5 (NASB)


"There are many out there taking other paths, choosing other goals, and trying to get you to go along with them. I've warned you of them many times; sadly, I'm having to do it again. All they want is easy street. They hate Christ's Cross. But easy street is a dead-end street. Those who live there make their bellies their gods; belches are their praise; all they can think of is their appetites. But there's far more to life for us. We're citizens of high heaven!" Philippians 3: 18-20 (MSG)

Beautifully Messy

My best friend and her kids came over for a play date yesterday, so I cleaned. As I was scrubbing the bathroom floor, I had to ask myself: "Why am I cleaning? Why do I care?"

After all, Chanelle knows that I am not Mrs. Clean. I'm aware that she knows me well enough to know that I could care less if there are a handful of crumbs left over on my table from breakfast or smudgy splotches on the windows from where my boys love to stand and press their faces against the glass.

Not only that, but she also lived with me for years and saw firsthand how I rarely even noticed if something was dusty and that I never owned a vacuum cleaner. She was the one who taught me how to do laundry our freshman year of college because I had forgotten my mom's tutorial. 

She knows me. So why did I care? Why did I scrub?

The best I can come up with is that I wanted her to think, "Wow, Gretchen really has this wife and mom thing down. She makes it look easy! She's a natural!"

Or....something like that. 

I wanted to appear to have it all together, so I could look like a rousing success story, an accomplished woman. 

All of this, for someone who knows me better than almost anyone. All of this, for someone who already knows I am a good wife and mother. All of this, for someone who I know does NOT care about my house because she just wants conversation with me and to watch our kids play together. 

The irony of this story lies in the fact that I totally forgot to clean up the basement, which is typically the messiest room of the house anyway. And where is the very first place the kids want to play?

The basement. Where the cushions are off the sofa from where Matt took his Sunday afternoon nap. Where cars and trains are strewn on the floor. Where old picture albums I had been paging through sit on top of a chair and our computer desk is covered with clothes we've been meaning to give away. The basement. 

I was thinking of all this today and again how silly it was. But more than the silly factor of it all, it hit me how this is exactly what we tend to do with ourselves. 

When we head out into the world, we neatly tuck everything into its proper place and scrub away the dirt so we glean with promise and minimize the things that others could criticize. But there lies below a basement where the mess dwells. 

The appearance seems just right, but look a little closer. There are pieces of ourselves that we hide away, whether through shame or guilt or embarrassment, that cannot stay hidden forever. We can gloss and floss ourselves to a sheeny perfection, but the mess remains. 

The insecurity. The anxiety. The sadness. The hurt. The loss. The anger. The questions. The doubt. The wound. 

When I read books or watch movies, there is something very off-putting to me when the protagonist is too perfect. I have read books before where I am actually rooting for the main character to fail a little bit. It is annoying to me when a fictional character handles every situation perfectly...especially in Christian books. 

My favorite all-time character is Anne Shirley. She is smart and passionate and savvy and strong. These are wonderful traits. She also has a quick temper and is kind of fruit loops sometimes. These are her messes. Anne Shirley is someone I can relate to because she is so beautifully messy. Give me a messy human over a perfect one any day (unless that perfect one is Jesus. Then give me Jesus).

I think this is one of the reasons I pursued counseling as a profession. I love peoples's messes. I long to tell them they are not alone in their messes but that there is help and hope and healing greater than they've ever dreamed. 

There is a Love that knows and loves every inch of our mess (even that part that tries to appear to have it all together).

All we need to do is to open wide our basement doors and give access to the mess.

And when it comes to others' messes, let's offer grace abundantly to give people some space to work through it. Let's give them so much grace that they know they don't have to have it all together.

While you're at it, be a gem and grab a broom to sweep up that cobweb in the corner.