Loving the Messy

I have been forever changed by the past four years.  A journey of over 1,000 days has brought more pain, sorrow and redemption than I have ever known.  It is not something I want to repeat.  I do not relish digging through the deep, dark moments.   Slowly, the dark is finding light and I have been changed. 

Two years ago I stumbled upon the book 1,000 Gifts, by Ann Voskamp.  I opened the cover and began to drink up the words on the page.  After the first chapter I promptly slammed the book shut and with tears in my eyes placed it back on the shelf for another time.  The first chapter is pain.  It is sorrow. Too close to the center of my heart.  The time to dig deep into the messy places of the heart was not that day.  There is a time and place for that and it wasn’t then.  So the book stayed, on the shelf, cold and alone.  Kind of like my heart.  Last September rolls around and the imminent bed rest loomed over my head.  The first few weeks were painful and torturous as the memories of the last bed rest still shadowed my thoughts.  It became a struggle to stay flat.  It was darkness.  It was loneliness.  It was grief.  And so instead of fighting the tug to dig deep into the messy, I gave in and found 1,000 Gifts.  And my life was changed.  Maybe it was the way she writes, in broken sentences and the infamous fragment-my favorite way to write, with words tumbling over each other in a messy, fragmented mass of letters.  Pages and pages of Word documents underscored in green scribbles.  Perfect.  No worries of sentence structure, colon splices or run on sentences.  With each chapter the challenge become clear- find the gift in every moment.  Take the messy of life and search for the gift. Whether it take minutes or years, find the gift. 

“I am from the God of Redemption, who restores the years the locusts ate up, who writes new stories on pristine pages washed white with the blood of the Lamb-whose business is to work out all messes for glorious good.”

 “to restore the years of locusts” . . . to wipe away the tears . . . to laugh again . . .  to find new life . . . This is the promise that we only find a glimpse of in this life.  To “work out all messes for glorious good” . . . for good.  To find deep meaning in what comes after trauma, and crisis no matter the level.  To come to this place after a long journey only makes the end that much sweeter.  It is truth, it is real, it is solid this writing of new stories.  I find peace.  I find rest in knowing that there is a center to this madness. 

Here is to loving the messy.

And to finding the gift in all moments of life- even the messy ones.