I want to write, I say.
But I’m not feelin’ it.
Make a list of the objects that are around you, she says. Just play with the list.
I look around.
It’s a long list.
A messy list.
Stacks of photo albums in blue and brown and red and pink.
A half-eaten peanut butter cup (not mine.)
The two Keepsake tree ornaments “to honor our feelings of loss” I impulse bought for Sissy and niece.
My pink and white bag filled with bills and receipts and a favorite book.
My suitcase is still in the corner of the living room where I left it a week ago Sunday, even though I sleep downstairs.
There’s a hairbrush and an empty water bottle.
A bright primary-colored (mostly yellow) maraca and a green alligator on wheels–or is it a dinosaur?
The clutter, it’s everywhere.
It spills into every room.
It’s too overwhelming to list it all.
The place is a mess.
Sorry, Sissy.
But it’s a mess that speaks of priorities.
Of things that came first.
It’s a mess that speaks of fatigue and grief.
And it’s a mess that can make us laugh.
Laughing is good, I think.
I think about how Jesus plopped down right in the middle of a mess.
And how He’s there in the middle of all of our messes.
And how He’s here now in this tower of sympathy cards and in the handwritten words and in the gifts given in her memory.
And in the tears I held back and in the few I let fall today.
And I think that I sit in the midst of a holy mess.
Because He is in its midst.
And I’m feelin’ it.
God went for the jugular when he sent his own Son. He didn’t deal with the problem as something remote and unimportant. In his Son, Jesus, he personally took on the human condition, entered the disordered mess of struggling humanity in order to set it right once and for all. ~Romans 8:3 (Message)
Joining my cross-eyed, Y-seeing friend, Jennifer,
in community this week.
And linking up with sweet Emily and company as we spill crumbs
of prose and praise.
And joining Faith Barista Bonnie and her gang as we unwrap Jesus.
Glad you pressed in to write that list, and this post. Even gladder (intended) that you saw Him in the midst of the mess. Praying for you early this morning.
Don’t you love how He is Master over the messes? Grateful for your prayers.
I wish I could be there to give you a monster hug, or I wish I at least knew where to send a note to add to your clutter. So glad you’re feeling the holy Comforter!
Feeling that hug. Looking forward to a real one next year. I love the notes I’ve collected here online–but I would give you my addy any day. 🙂
That mess holds some beautiful, hard stories, doesn’t it, Sandra?
Loving you, and praying, this morning.
Loving you back. Thinking of you all surrounded by your family. 🙂
It’s OK — And that “It’s” is a lot bigger than just spinning tales about the objects overtaking my house. “Messiness” is really just part of life. Mom would be very proud of us and our priorities these past weeks. And I know she is particularly enjoying that you are writing from your heart as you share this journey. XOXOXO
Aren’t you glad I didn’t continue the list? 😉
Great writing and living lesson! To be rendered awake to what is right now right in front of us is to find what needs to be written. How often I need to be reminded! Thank you for this!
I should have known that L.L. would nudge me to write right from where I was, even physically. Amazing what can be spun out of that.
I feel it through your words Sandy. I have prayed you would feel His presence. What comfort that He is there in the midst of the mess. I need to know that. Thank you for writing your heart. It is such true writing.
Still praying for you and your family.
Sissy and I are still talking about all the little God incidences that came together as we planned the service. It’s like He wove it all together. That gives me such comfort. And knowing you are praying does, too.
Love you, my roomie-friend.
I was talking to a friend tonight, via text, about this very thing — how God just shows right up in the midst of the mess with His presence, showering us with little God-incidences.
He’s pretty amazing like that. And sometimes we’ve got our dark glasses on and umbrellas up–and miss Him. I don’t want to miss Him.
how quickly those messes can happen too when our priorities shift rapidly…i am glad you find him there in it…life is a big beautiful mess…
And it’s up to us to find that beauty in it, isn’t it, Brian?
Now it’s time to clean it up, pick it up. But I’m not feelin’ it. 😉
Okay, was THAT book really peaking out of your bag when L.L. told you to look around and make a list? I agree; it’s a good one! And you’re right–Advent is about Jesus coming into the midst of our big, holy mess. Love you.
Honestly? No. It was on the floor next to the bag when she told me. Honestly. I had curled up in the recliner with it. Is that a God bump in itself?
Love you back.
this made me teary. sitting in the middle of that mess with you, friend. love you.
I’m so glad that Jesus entered “the disordered mess of struggling humanity.” I wouldn’t know how to relate to him or him to me, if he hadn’t. Thank you for your beautiful, insightful thoughts on all things messy, Sandra!
Lots of feeling still to be felt 🙂 So thankful you feel Him in the midst of the mess. A prayer has been lifted…
Aren’t we all a mess! Messes also make us interesting.
Baby, you just sit in that mess as long as you need to.
We’re all wading around in that mess to one degree or another, aren’t we?!
I’ve thought about you so much this week, Sandy. Thank you for opening up your heart the way you do, and letting us enter into these tender places with you. You have a special gift; your mama would be proud.
Love you…
(So glad you linked your delightful voice to the community this week.)
For writers, I believe writing is therapeutic regardless of how we approach it, as long as we’re honest in the words we express. Your post displays your priorities right now, and they’re good ones. The other words will come in time … when your body has recovered, when your mind is rested, and when your spirit is refreshed. Give life time to move forward and you’ll catch up soon enough.
Yes indeed, you do see, Sandy-girl. These posts you’re writing straight from your heart? I’m loving them a whole lot. Thanks for this one. Love you, praying for you. When will you be able to go home?
I love you just the way you are… (ok, billy joel probably wrote that for you… but, I’m stealin’ it.)
Let it be, let it be… whisper words of wisdom… let it be. <3
{xoxoxoxo}
And in our messes we find our hearts, aching, breaking and beating it all together.
Hugs to you, and your list and your suitcase in the hall — hugs to you in your mess and in your sorrow.
Hugs.
And our messy prayers surround you for we hardly know how to pray as we should, but The Holy Spirit takes them all and weaves them into beauty before The Throne of Grace…
Amen… Jesus sits in the midst of my mess… and has sat there for most of my life. And helps clean it up, bit by bit, so I can see beneath the piles that have kept my focus on them and away from Him. [And I’m glad He’s sitting in the midst of your present “clutterful” situation… which is simply feeling/being heart-filled over your mother’s death… and not cleaning up for you or trying to force you to do so, but just holding you.]
Yes, a holy mess. Remember His words to Martha, they weren’t hurry up and do more, but sit back, do a little less, and spend more time with Me. We area society of doers, and sadly we miss out a lot on life. Loosing a loved one puts the brakes on our runaway lives, forces us to slow down, think and reflect. Still keeping you in my thoughts and prayers.