Yesterday was a day full of good intentions.
My kids were all dressed in their Christmas best. My hubby was working it in his awesome jacket and tie. I was dressed in purple sequined bling tank overlayed with a light weight, tasteful black top. Heck, I even wore make-up.
We were going to do it. We were going to be there on time. We were going to church.
And then we weren't. I had this horrible emotional break-down. Kids were going beserk. I hadn't eaten breakfast. And things just sort of spiraled from there.
Mike tried to give me a break and told me to meet him after church. But then I couldn't get the vehicle I was driving to turn off properly and he had to come rescue me. And so no one was at the service.
And this has been life. Trying so hard to do what we set out to do and missing completely.
I'm the one with the "brilliant" idea the day before to take our family out to Norfolk and hit our favorite spot, the book exchange, on top of the necessary errands we had to run: gas the car, go to the bank, library returns, etc. And kids are whining and ungrateful and Mike and I are frustrated and tired. And my husband is giving me this look of "wouldn't-it-have-been-better-to-just-stay-home" and I know he's right and I'm fighting it.
Which reminds me of my Caregroup Christmas Party where I'm barely hanging on and I'm falling apart. And I'm angry because really I'm usually okay but I almost always end up emotional and fragile and broken going to Caregroup and I'm proud and I don't want my friends to see me like that and think, "Wow, she really can't seem to keep it together, huh?" and I'm kind of mortified. Because I want them to see me as strong and not emotional and maybe even logical. And before we start our Christmas carol singing my brother-in-law gives me a look and I know it means he wants me to open in prayer and I'm thinking, "Gee, really God, you have a weird sense of humor."
And there's this beautiful moment where the Holy Spirit speaks to my heart and the truth comes flooding out as I pray, "God thank you that you love us and accept us as broken messy people..."
And I realize that this is part of what my life is. Being messy and broken and dirty and ugly and God still coming for me. God still rescuing me. God still loving me. God still calling me and holding me and saying, "You are my precious daughter. Give up trying. Just surrender. You belong to me and you can't escape it. You don't have to put on an act. Or get better. I love you."
What a great Amazing God. Not for a second intimidated by my inability. Not scoffing at my efforts but kind enough to release me from my imperfections.
And there's wrapping paper on my floor. Presents wrapped. Some yet to be wrapped. And it's messy, messy, messy in my room. And it's okay. It's okay I don't have it together. It's okay that I'm weepy and emotional and depressed and missing my sister. It's okay that I'm unable to face my room and just deal with the disorganization. God still loves me. Mess or not. God still accepts me. Imperfect and struggling. God still gave me His son Jesus. This God made flesh in the form of a wee babe.
Beautiful. This God that came to us. Lived a perfect life. Died a horrific death. Rose again. Conquered death. He came for me. He came for you. He came for us. Our broken humanity. And He made a way. He is the way, the truth, the life. No one can go to the Father except through Him.
So thank you Jesus. Thank you that you love me. Thank you that you came. Thank you for setting me free. Help me to surrender to you. All my thoughts, worries, obligations, fears, responsibilities, hopes, disappointments, concerns, pressures, anxieties, feelings... I give them to you. Thank you that you grace is more than enough. It covers all my lack. It covers all my sin. It covers all my inability and brokenness. Thank you for your love. That fills my deepest needs. All my gaps. Fill me with your love so that I can give to others out of the overflow. Thank you for being more than enough for me.