Tuesday, April 8, 2014

A Mess I Can Live With--My Messy Beautiful

People tell me things.  I think maybe it's my superpower. I suppose it comes with the "pastor's wife" territory. 

I hear about sick loved ones, broken marriages, unruly kids/grandkids and family disputes.  And I am honored that these women (and sometimes men) trust me with their hurts and ask me for prayers.  I am always happy to listen and pray. 

Everyone has a mess. It's beautiful to be a part of it.

But there's another level of telling that I experience. Women fall all over themselves to explain their dirty kitchen, fussy children, or disorderly car.  Like when they look at me they see a person who cares about such things and maybe I'll judge them.  Because, obviously, I have it so pulled together.  

I mean, just look at me and my family:

Pulled together, right?


In the 24 hours after that picture was taken, my oldest was diagnosed with pneumonia likely stemming from an illness she had nearly 6 months ago, my middle child's black eye finally started to look better, I left my screaming baby in her crib for a solid 20 mins while I took a shower, and my husband and I traded verbal barbs over who was supposed to pick up the preschooler.

Messy, yes. But beautiful?

My kids don't always listen.  I can be super mean to my husband.  I yell at the dog for coming in with muddy paws.  I want to hide when the baby starts crying.  I never have enough hands or time. Seeing clothes or toys on the floor makes. me. nuts. 

I don't like messes in general, or activities that might lead to a mess. But these surface messes are proof that life is happening. The messes make life beautiful.

Even with my self-doubt, loneliness, selfishness, and anxiety about the future, it's all a beautiful mess.  My kids are a blessing.  My dog is a comfort. My marriage is a work in progress.  All this mess gives me purpose.  

I am learning to embrace it.  To slow down and watch.  To put down the d&@$ phone. To ask myself: Is it better to be right or to be kind?  I am following Mother Theresa's mantra to "do small things with great love". 

I am a mess, but I'm God's mess.  And my messiness is proof that he's not done with me yet.  That's a mess I can live with.

This post and I are part of the Messy, Beautiful Warrior Project — To learn more and join us, click here: http://momastery.com/messy-beautiful-warrior-friends/

And to learn about the New York Times Bestselling Memoir Carry On Warrior: The Power of Embracing Your Messy, Beautiful Life, just released in paperback, click here: http://momastery.com/carry-on-warrior/


  1. Thank you, Christine, for such a refreshing blog! All our lives are messes. I don't want to have a perfect life; a perfect life is is flawed.

  2. Amen, sister. I thought I was the only one that showered to a screaming baby. I swear his first word is going to be "relax".


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