There is a temptation to dress up our messiness with disguises. People, families, communities, institutions, schools, governments, colleges, churches, have perfected dressing up brokenness. We cover it up with programs, pretenses, pretending, and pointing to someone else's junk as junkier. It is like when two people fail a test and then one who fails the least brags about their higher failing grade. We are all a mess! Or as they say it here in the south, "We are all a HOT MESS!" ( Sorry Mark, I know nails on a chalk board to your eyes ;)
One of my favorite all time sayings is, "Where two or more are gathered there will be a mess!" Thank you, George Verwer.
As we attempt to join another community, another state, another school, another church, another set of friends, another completely new and foreign way of doing things; I would like to introduce myself and say, "My name is Sara Littlejohn, this is my family, and we are a mess! We are broken, struggling people who serve a great and gentle God, who stooped down to earth over 2,000 years ago to rescue us from US. He is in the business of relationships and redemption. And this is where do life, in giant holes of messiness!"
The last two churches we have been apart of have really taught us a lot about seeking out other messy sojourners and helping each other limp along the way. Sounds the opposite of the prosperity gospel, eh? But there is is something so precious, so freeing, so alluring about authentic community, organic community.
So here is the organic, behind the scenes truth; it is messy in the land of double wide right now. I already have two children telling me they are not going back to school, one already crying about an assignment that was not even assigned as homework, but was brought home because one could not deal with the stress of it not being completed before she returned Monday morning. *sigh* A brave husband who is starting a new job today, a son who currently thinks that obedience is optional, and a bewildered Mama quoting her favorite author, "What fresh hell is this?!" *sometimes organic includes expletives*
I mean the very keyboard I type upon is a visual reminder of my messed-up-ness. No G, no back space, and tape on my mouse. MESSED UP!
But God has been nudging my heart... leaning heavily on me in the quiet moments of the morning. The message He is inundating me with, "BE HERE! Be RIGHT here, Sara! Let the boxes remain packed til Christmas, but be here in this mess. Lay with Lucy as she sobs her eyes out in the bottom bunk because her six year old little mind cannot fathom a way to communicate to you the way her heart feels out of sync. Walk Julia to her bed for the fifth time in a row, because somewhere deep inside she is begging for more physical contact. Help Katie at eight PM on a Sunday night solve 10 math problems that were never assigned. Do it! Because it makes her feel safe and removes anxiety from her brain. Kiss that bald headed, rotten boy one more time because soon he'll be a man. DO IT! Be here! Help your husband pack his lunch for his first day of work! DO IT! Let the messy rise all around you. Let the imperfection, and unending lists be sacrificed on the alter of your presence alone! BE HERE! And, oh, Sara, I am going to show myself to you in a way that you have never imagined. In this messy, unorganized, out of sync moment you've got going on, I am going to be in it to my neck also, and I am going to refine this mess into something that will take your breath away. Wait here, stop stirring and trying to fix something that was NEVER yours to fix. So please, my sweet, show me your messy, all of it, all of the brokenness, all of the ache, all of the ugly, and then get out of the way!"
Pretty sure this is where I am suppose to be, maybe not where I want to be, but where I am suppose to be, covered in messiness, but perfectly redeemed!
~Sara
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