Beautiful Messes

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Once again I have been writing in my head. What makes it to God’s Word Girl is far and few between. It’s a shame, too, since some of the blogs I’ve mentally compiled are fantastic — if I do say so myself.

Part of my issue is a genuine one, though. My computer is old. Sometimes it throws fits while I’m on it and it shuts off without warning. And there I am. Computerless. I don’t know about other bloggers but I’m not able to post without certain tools — a computer being a very necessary one. So, if I drop off again it could be a toss up between mental compilations that never make it to print or my computer passed out on me . . . again.

Another problem is that I have so much that I want to write and so many directions in which I could go that it’s hard to pick one. The twins have been hard at work polishing activities for the tween’s devotional book that we’re creating so I want to keep up with the writing there. Another part of me is chomping at the bit to get back to a novel one of my closest friends has waited for for literally decades now.

Yet another problem is that I’ve been preparing to move. That’s no small feat. What to keep? What to toss? What to donate?

There I go again, rambling. See, this is what has been going on in my head and in my home lately. Too much, too much, too much . . . .

One night my husband and I heard strange noises. Neither one of us could quite tell what the noise was or from where it came. Apparently neither one of us had enough energy or concern to get up and look, either. When the kids were young my radar was prime. If the least little thing didn’t sound right with them I was out of bed. Meanwhile, they could cry their heads off and Bob would sleep right through it. On the other hand, that man would be on his elbow listening or at the window looking if he heard a strange vehicle or an unusual noise in our neighborhood. Those types of things tripped his radar. Apparently on that night, there were no child worries for me and no neighborhood worries for him so we proceeded to go to sleep.

Before he left for work the next morning I told him that I thought the noises may have come from our closet. I think I mentioned in prior posts that ours is a very old house, some parts being 100 years old. Obviously people then had little use for closets. Our built-in closet in our master bedroom is a 3 foot rod. Yep, that’s it. No shelves, no other rods, no nothing. That would be fine for the couple whose wife didn’t like dresses and blouses and whose husband didn’t wear uniforms, but that’s not us.

Shortly after we moved into this house, while Bob was working second shift, Dad built us a BIG closet out of one of those kits you can buy at any home department store. It’s mobile, kind of, and takes up a pile of room in our bedroom, but so would all of the clothes if they were helter skelter. My dear closet began to buckle. One shelf kind of fell sideways a couple of days earlier. But on the night of all of the noise that shelf totally gave out and down came my sweat pants and the blouses that hung on the rod beneath. I guess it could’ve been noisier but all of the clothes collapsing kind of muffled the sounds of anything breaking.

For nearly 2 weeks I looked at the mess and wondered what was the meaning of life. I’m kidding! I wasn’t wondering that although I did wonder if I could get rid of enough clothes so that all of them would fit on one rod. I also wondered if God might be trying to tell me something about what to keep, donate, or toss . . . ?

Have you given much thought as to what’s in your closet lately? Are you filled with unforgiveness, anger, pride, or selfishness? Are your rods and shelves heavy laden with worry and the cares of this world? Are the noises coming from those deep recesses disturbing your sleep? Funny how closing a curtain or shutting a door doesn’t get rid of the things that lie behind. Only the Blood of Jesus can do that.

My challenge to you is to join me in examining our hearts and face what is lurking there. I’ve been thinking a lot lately about how the writers of the Psalms asked God to search them and see if there was any wicked way in them. If so, there was then a plea, “Create in me a clean heart, O God! Renew a right spirit within me! Please don’t cast me away from Your presence! Don’t take Your holy Presence from me!”

If we live by the world’s standards we are living too low. Holy Spirit will flourish in vessels who honor Him. If Jesus wouldn’t say it, do it, or dwell on it, then neither should we. I don’t know about you, but I want to rise to the heights of my God given authority while simultaneously sinking into the depths of His limitless love.

I will try to come to you again much sooner next time although at this point that may depend a lot on the state of my computer. I do miss you and I miss our time together. Be blessed and go in the grace of our LORD Jesus Christ. And let the searching of our hearts begin.

Published by

Christi

My husband and I married 20 years ago on a chilly, rainy, spring day. One year later caught me in a whirlwind as I was celebrating my first wedding anniversary, my first Mother's Day, and my first publication as a freelance writer. The birth of our third child followed a couple months after we celebrated our twins' 3rd birthday. Though a pen has been one of my constant companions, I have not pursued writing professionally due to the monumental task of homemaking and the raising of children. A shout out to my Robert who has been our sole provider while I have had the pleasure and privilege of remaining home with our children to homeschool them. Now, thanks to him, I have the liberty to once again pursue my passion to write and encourage others in written word as we journey with God through life experiences.

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