I walk into the laundry room. Towels have erupted all over the place. I’m days behind on the monotony of wash, dry, fold, put away.
The sink has dishes piled up.
Each of my kids are needing something from me at the same time.
I feel guilt wash over me because I haven’t sat down the with youngest to do any school work in about a week because the bigger ones need me. Their work is harder, it takes more time, and somehow that equates to being more important. She’s simply learning to read. She’ll learn eventually.
My head hangs low and I feel like a failure.
I haven’t made a real meal all week. I’ve bought into counterfeit meals…be it fast food or the glorious HEB rotisserie chicken that is otherwise known as the saving grace of dinner time. I know that’s actually a fine meal, just fine…but right now, it’s another indication that I don’t have it all together.
I feel like all the moving pieces are slipping through my fingers. It’s all so messy and busy and weary.
I’ve got this constant feeling that I can’t.
Can’t get any of it together.
Can’t keep up.
There are so many things I simply can’t get to. It’s this constant tension. What do I do? Let go? Give up? Can I add to make it better? What can I do to make it easier? What can I do to clear the struggle?
And that’s all just one part of my life. The most important part, of course, and to that I must add ministry, calling and gifts.
I sit on the couch in our living room. It’s almost midnight. It’s still. I look around and I see fingerprints of my loves all over our quiet home. Shoes cast aside by the stairs. Cups half filled with water on the table. Pillows strewn on the floor carelessly. A baby doll swaddled in a blanket laying on the settee.
They are all asleep and I stay up so I can dive into calling.
Fingerprints of my whole life cover my home and heart.
Maybe in this calling I can leave my mark, my fingerprints of obedience.
I’ve been given stories to share, words to write and a place to do so and I’ve fallen away.
I’ve bought into the can’t.
Out of weariness.
Out of burden.
Out of disobedience.
Out of pride.
A scarf is hanging on the back of a chair. A hairbrush sits by the TV and we’ll probably be scrambling looking for it tomorrow. Lost pencils are under the coffee table.
It’s all so cluttered.
Pieces of living scattered around embody how my life feels.
An appointment here, a dance class there, school work, stray clothing, ministry, calling, gifts, chaos, mess, busy, burden, desires, trust, prayer, doubt, fear, control, rest…
Bits and pieces of everything scattered about my heart and mind and soul.
I sit with friends over dinner and a friend looks into my eyes and says, “You aren’t writing because of pride. An upside down pride, but pride none the less.”
I called it fear. I called it weary. I called it can’t.
It’s full on pride.
God have given me this beautiful desire, a gift and I’ve done the opposite of glorifying him with it. I’ve put it aside as if to say, I can’t get glory from it, so I’ll put it away.
In Luke, Zechariah was told by the angel Gabriel that his wife, Elizabeth, would have a son. Zechariah was incredulous, he didn’t believe the messenger angel and his unbelief caused him to be mute…to lose his voice. The bible says Gabriel tells him, “Do not be afraid Zechariah, your prayers have been heard.”
Zechariah had prayed for a child. It was his prayer, his life long desire. It had been the prayer on his lips for so long and here the angel is telling him, ‘GOD HEARD YOU! YES! God is giving you all your heart has ever desired.’
He can’t be certain.
He can’t have faith.
It’s not clear.
He is full of doubt.
He doesn’t trust God.
How many times have I been like Zechariah? The Lord has given me so much and has blessed all my mess and despite my craziness, he has made so much of this life beautiful. Yet, I still stand in awe, afraid, uncertain and doubtful.
I look around at my mess and I can’t. Nor do I believe He can.
I have prayed for all these things to be.
How many times in my years of depression and fear and doubt, when I could barely get out of bed and when I would stare into this void of my life, as my small children cared for themselves, stuck in front a a television for hours, did I cry out and pray, “God give me purpose, a hunger for you! Use me God. Take away these fears and doubts and uncertainties. Break me and make me new.”
And He did!
I’ve been given a voice, a place, a calling, (tiny disciples, even) and I look around and think…are you sure you want to use me Lord? Are you certain I’m worthy or enough? Are you sure there isn’t another?
He wants to use you beloved!
You aren’t worthy or enough and yet God is still calling YOU.
There are so many others and yet God still wants You.
And all the scattered, messy parts of life; the crazy, the can’t, the loose ends and every failure, they aren’t going to go away. They are all a part of His story and a part of what God is calling you to.
It’s not clean or perfect. I’m failing and falling all over the place. Every time I try to balance it all falls out of my hands. The scale falls apart!
I’m not called to a balanced life, but to a faithful one.
I don’t live by formula, but by faith and every part of my mess is me just living a simple, faithful life, trusting God moment by moment.
I may not always make gourmet meals, but I’m faithful to feed my kids daily.
I may not get to all the laundry, but I’m faithful in finding clothes to keep on them!
I may not be able to give all of myself to each calling all the time, but I am faithful in the small, daily steps he has called me to take.
And God is faithful in all the rest. That is where grace abounds!
He has me.
So I believe. Faithfully and with grace.
I take my messed up crazy life and I delight in it all because he has given me all I need. I let go and allow the things to slip out of my hands, knowing he is faithful to catch what I miss. I set aside my pride, my fears, my can’ts and I hand it all over to God. Daily.
All of my life is his and above all else, I desire so much to please him. That’s why I’m here…all for His glory.