This is how my house looked Saturday before our Candlemas party. It was so clean and cozy.Isn’t it pretty?
It’s good for me to remember how lovely it is.
All too often, all I see are the imperfections. All the ways this house is failing me and I it.
But on a day like today I am so grateful for this lovely, imperfect, house that has become our home. A patient constant comfort despite all my unkind words about the sideways stove top and single bathroom.
Today was hard y’all. The mess was big and real and at times I thought I might be buried alive under it. And I am not just talking about the laundry.
I am talking about all the mess of human hearts and insecurities and issues of control and scantly filled emotional tool boxes of life.
This mess that comes when you are trying to do what’s best and yet, somehow you keep missing the mark, or maybe the mark keeps moving, or maybe the mark was never clear.
Trying to be Jesus hands and feet upon this big, beautiful, broken earth can be brutal. Right now I am flailing around like a kid who hasn’t learned how to swim in his life vest.I am drowning and floating all at once.
The lines between my own inadequacies and the complicated circumstances I find myself in, are blurred and fuzzy.I can do better and I can do nothing more and there are no easy answers.
So tonight I am grateful for a dry roof, for a fire, for a hot dinner, for the a place to rest my weary soul.
For a home to come home to.
I am thankful for family and friends who see past the pretty, and are not overwhelmed by the unfinished, tangled, mess that is underneath. Who circle around me and sing songs of peace and hope and light, when the darkness threatens to fill ever nook and cranny.
For a tribe that believes, that in the end, Love always wins.
peace and blessings friends-