considerations of a messy heart

I like things tidy.

I get all out of sorts when the dirty dishes have piled up after a dinner party. or when the bathroom faucet has dreaded toothpaste splotches on its surface. or when mount laundry has reached its peak + the baby's diapers also need to be cleaned + there are so. many. toys underfoot.

I try to stay on top of it all, the majority of the time. I do the dishes every second night. the bathroom faucet gets wiped off every time I'm at the sink. toys are put away after Rowan goes to bed for the evening.

and the laundry? well, it's hiding in our bedroom, along with our unmade bed. where the dirty laundry tends to keep hidden. behind closed doors, pretending, until we've had the chance to sort it out.

but grace isn't tidy. it doesn't pretend quietly behind closed doors. it's touted as a blonde-haired, blue-eyed Jesus, arms open to hug you into heaven. but you know full well He'd look you in the eyes and tell you to stop working so hard, Martha. your striving would be appreciated momentarily, but not encouraged. not sought after.

I often worry about my failures. as a wife + mother. as a friend. as a child of God. I doubt myself + my ability in performing well the task of raising the tiny life entrusted to me.

and in my own flesh? of my own ability? no, I suppose I'm not doing well.

I need grace. I need to live grace out + receive the gospel each day.

obeying Jesus is always going to look different when compared to the well-planned life-trajectory encouraged by the world. my home might not be spic + span all the time. I might not aim for the high-paying, stable job that won't fulfill me, or wait for the perfect moment to start a family, or vacation in Florida each year because that's what happy people do.

but if I authentically follow Jesus, and only because of His grace, my disordered, chaotic, untidy life will be made worthwhile.