We have a very open house. Kids, neighbors, old friends, and new ones are always welcome in. I can perk a fresh pot or whip up some cookies quick as a cat. I try to keep a tidy living room and have hiding places for all the mayhem. Ryan and I even bought our house all those years ago with the intention of it being a place to host and serve others.Now, I realize that coffee and cookies and even a listening ear might not be enough. This quote sums up my challenge, "...everything that looks like it's breaking apart might actually be falling together. Isn't that what I've been longing to be, broken and broken free to be a key person? One of the soul emancipators who unleash others into who they already are in Him, no judging skeletons in closets or the size of a waist or the performance of anyone's kids or anything that might threaten to break us." Maybe what the world needs is to see my messy counters and hear my hard parts. They might benefit more from my hot mess than my warm baked goods. Maybe seeing where I am far from perfect, where I am broken would make be more welcoming and real. I need to be open and sharing about the things that wake me up at night, the worries that steal my peace and my joy. What drives me tears or makes me cry out to my Lord? Am I willing to share just my coffee or also my heart?
Let me be honest and say that I don’t desire to tell you how I pray for complete healing while constantly preparing for and expecting the worst. I’m not proud to say that I used to tell Jesus that as long as he never made me move too far away, I’d be happy. I realize that somewhere inside that everyone wants their kids to be independent and happy and healthy but is there anyone else out there that tries to plan out who will take care of your son when you can’t. It literally takes my breath away. I have found that I lack faith in God and the world he has put me in because some things are just to hard for me to bear. I can be full of unforgiveness if you hurt any of my boys and yet share with you stories of deep and purposeful forgiveness in my life. Let me transparent and tell you that before every single smiling family picture, I have yelled in my mean mom voice at one or all of the people posed there. Yes, I keep a gratitude list, but sometimes I force myself to list things that I am thankful for about the the people I love the most, the very souls that I spend my days serving. I love Jesus but, I only want him, and you all, to know about the quiet times and the good parts. The ugly and wrong, I would much rather tuck away and keep to myself.
One thing that I read recently encouraged believers to share their story because that is how God is most shared with others. It used the stories of the Bible as examples and said that every main character (besides Christ) had a shady side to their story. Noah built the ark but what did he do after it landed? David slayed the giant for God's glory and then later in his life committed murder with only selfish, sinful motives. The stories of the Bible are not pretty, packaged, and perfect. They are real folks like me (and maybe you too). They have highs and lows, ups and downs, days when they win and seasons where they lose big. Living a life of faith is not always pretty but it also doesn't have to be. The author went on to explain that the hero of the stories in the Word is always God himself. God, using a bunch of normal folks to show His power and bring Him glory. He loved them right on through their fires and brought them out refined and beautiful. She put it like this, "What if we were meant to summarize the highlights and lowlights of our stories?Sure, there are some nice things people would say about us. We've each had our share of glowing moments. But there are a lot of bad things people could say about us too, because we've each had some dark moments. Those dark moments don't typically make our highlight reels...We're all a mixed bag of good and bad, sinner and saint." My story is sometimes ugly. I don't always get it right. I yell for wrong reasons. I fake it sometimes. I lie and say that all is well when it really isn't. I lack faith. I struggle to love. I chose wrong. My story does't always have a fairy tale ending and I am most definitely not the hero. But, (I love a good "but") my mess can still be used for His glory, if I am willing to share it.
I guess the moral of the story is this, come on over. My house may be messy and my life isn't perfect. Still yet, come on in, pull up a chair. I'll make a pot of coffee and maybe even some cookies. Let's talk and listen and let's be real. It might not always be pretty and perfect but it's my story and I'm willing to share it. If you've got the time, I've got the coffee.
