When I’m the Mess that Needs Cleaning Up

I’m ashamed because I know I am a fraud. I have ambition, but no resolve. A willing heart, but weak flesh. And, oh, I hate that weak flesh – that flimsy casing that too often owns me. Erasmus said habit is overcome by habit. Well, I’ve made some sloppy habits over the last year. I have closed my laptop and my Bible and my heart and chosen sleep instead. I have endured playtime and meal time, longing for the next naptime or night time, all the while mourning my waste of that very thing: time. I have wasted the precious and not beheld the majesty of each moment. I have escaped. And in that escape, I have failed to worship. But that’s a lie, because we all worship something. I guess the subject of my worship has been avoidance and comfort.

In the end, I don’t want to waste anything. God never does and I’d like to be like Him. Yes, even this – all of my waste – God can turn into something beautiful even though it seems impossible to me.

I have one and a half drawer novels that haunt me because they aren’t published or fully edited. In short, they bug me. Is it because they haven’t been made beautiful? I want to make so many beautiful things; a tidy house, cute kids, a family image. But I think God wants more than pretty stuff. I think He wants to transform my mess into something beautiful. My house doesn’t have to be beautiful and neither do I, but He is dying for my soul to be gorgeous. But I’m a tired soul – a selfish, comfort-seeking soul who rarely choses God first. So I guess I can show up, but that’s about all I have the strength to do.

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