Admitting the Mess & Accepting Grace

The other night I was part of a Q & A panel. What to wear? I deliberated all day. Comfort? Style? In the end I chose a t-shirt and jeans. Why? I just wanna be me. The real me. The comfortable me. The one not tugging on pants and tucking in excess.

For every time I choose transparency there’s another time I choose to close the door. The pictures on my facebook look so happy; so together. But behind each one, often only minutes later, there’s a picture you never see. Smiling kid is now crying. Flower arrangement just got shattered. And the verse I posted got lost in my critical words.

There’s an aching in my heart to be real. There’s an equal fear of being avoided because of it. It’s a mess in here. A real mess. Days where I cherish my kids. Days where I watch the clock slowly tick by til bedtime. Some pages of my journal are full of verses and things God is teaching me. Other pages are full of questions and outright anger as I can’t understand what God is doing.

“For freedom Christ has set us free; stand firm therefore, and do not submit again to a yoke of slavery.” (Galatians 5:1)

If the Gospel sets me free then why do I feel so burdened to maintain a certain standard? Why do I wonder what people will think? Why am I a slave to how many views this blog gets? Freedom. That’s not a word I would use to characterize my life; to characterize my walk with Christ.

But it can be. I can choose to walk away from the yoke of slavery. Jesus spent His time with people in messes. People with messy hearts and messy lives. People like me.

I believe God has called us to freedom. But I also believe a lot of us are living as “whitewashed tombs.” We are messes. Big messes. Covered up with makeup, nice houses, and fake smiles. Covered up with the title Christian or Pastor’s wife.

What if it’s time we put our fears aside? What if it’s time we leave our pride at the door? What if we come openly. Come broken. Willing to say. I’m a mess. My life is crazy. My house is a wreck. I’m not even sure if my kids like me. But I know I’m loved. God has met me here. What if?

He loved me in my sin when Jesus said, “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.” (Luke 23:24). And He loves me now. He loves you now.

Big messes need big grace. Honest messes proclaim God’s glory.

May our generation be one that says here I am, broken, doubtful, but His. And in that may we cover the world with His love.

(We’re not alone. The If Gathering is coming up February 7,8. Jeremy and I are flying to Texas so I can volunteer. Ya’ll, this is crazy. I’d prefer to read the posts, smile, and continue hiding under my tent of safety. But in my heart I feel like God is doing something. And if that means cleaning bathrooms or seating people, there’s an ache to be a part of it. Pray!)

047 (Pics like these!)

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4 comments

  1. OOps  I forgot to tell you, I am Sally Qualls Tysor your mother’s cousin.

    Sally Tysor

    ________________________________

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