Mess

I remember as a child, sitting in the back seat of my mom’s car with my mom, sister, and me all headed to church. My sister and I were fighting over who knows what and my mom was ticked. While driving I remember her trying to reach an arm behind her seat to smack my leg, but I had moved myself to the side of the car where she couldn’t reach me. She was furious, I was miserable, I can only imagine my sister felt the same. We got to church, and our mom told us to pull ourselves together. We were to act as though nothing had happened. It was just one more item on my list of why I disliked church.

The notion of being fake, of pretending like everything was ok, while we went to church made no sense to me. At the core of it were two issues. 

1.     I don’t do well with fake. 

2.     If church is a place where I’m supposed to meet God, the one who knows and sees everything, why on earth were we trying to pretend our lives weren’t a mess? 

I don’t know about you, but my life feels like a mess, and always has been a mess. Every day there’s what I have planned and what actually happens. Rarely are the two even close. Stress and chaos inevitably enter the day. Some of the things I face are small, others are serious and stressful. If going to church meant I had to have my life pulled together, or even pretend like I had it pulled together, I wouldn’t go. I wouldn’t be allowed in. 

If I’m honest, it goes far beyond church. If going to God required any goodness on my part, I wouldn’t be able to speak his name. On my very best day, I fall short. I get frustrated, stressed, selfish, prideful, tired. I miss the mark and I know it. The other morning, I went to Jesus in prayer, laying out all the things I couldn’t stand about myself, all the areas I’d failed. It’s not as if he doesn’t know them.

How did Jesus respond? How did the one who knows every thought I think, every dark spot in my life, respond to my confession? I felt him lovingly look at me, at all the brokenness, all my failings, and lovingly speak to my heart “I love you. In me, you’re clean. In me, all those mistakes, all those flaws, they’re washed away. You’re mine. You are whole and made new in me. Will you receive it?”. 

His love washed over me. I stopped feeling weighed down by all my mistakes, all the areas where I got it wrong. I was filled with his love, renewed, ready to tackle another day knowing I was going to get it wrong again, but that I was loved. Jesus was not looking for me to be perfect, to have my life in order or the messes cleaned up. He wanted me to know who I was in Him and to live out a life of love as best as I can. He’s there to make all things new. He’s there to love us through all the mess. What he wants is our hearts, for us to go to him, to receive his love for us, to see ourselves and others as he sees us. 

Friends, church is meant to be a hospital. Where all of us who are broken come together, encourage one another, where we bring our brokenness to the one who makes all things new. If you’ve never experienced this, I encourage you to join us for our Friday morning prayer and church on Sunday. We’d love to meet you, to walk through life with you, to pray with you and over you if you’d like. I’m not perfect. I mess up, every day. Our church is not perfect. But we invite you to join us in the journey. A journey of ordinary people, broken people, doing our best to love others as Jesus loved us. You are welcome here.