Mess

If you stopped by my house unannounced, I would crumble and die. It is almost always a mess. Not even just a mess, a mess sounds too nice, a disaster zone. Yeah, the living room can stay somewhat picked up, but every surface in every room is always covered with stuff. Jewelry materials are often on the dinner table, jewelry is almost always on the built in buffet, school papers, camera, random junk and computer stuff is on my "baking

center." Cereal boxes, Elmer's glue, happy birthday crown, water bottles, gift bags, kleenex, lunch bags, scissors, tupperware that needs to be returned to its rightful owners, books, etc. are piled all throughout the kitchen.

I could blame it on the week, it was hard. But honestly, it is that

way all the time. If it wasn't cereal boxes, it would be coffee filters. If it wasn't my computer,

it would be old cigar boxes. It is always something.

I have been learning to live in reality. I have to understand that I don't live in a clean or organized house. I don't have bare counters featuring the latest Martha Stewart perfect pastry displayed on an antique milk glass cake pedestal. That is how I thought it should be. Well, clearly, it is not. And I am learning to accept reality for what it is, a mess, and at times a disaster.

This week has been heavy. Relational issues, our car being broken into, my special kitten was put to sleep. All make for reclusive behavior, puffy cheeks, red eyes, messy hair, acne in full force and cleaning only what is necessary. It's a miracle I even showered.

I try and cover the hurt with mascara, concealer and freshly flushed cheekbones. I curl my hair, spray on my fake tan, pick out my jewelry. I am hoping I can soon speak of these actions in past tense and something new and honest will take place.

Today, in an effort to be vulnerable, risk rejection, open myself up for criticism and judgement, I offer me, where I am at. You can see it can't you? I have cried a lot this week. It isn't pretty.

In fact, you may not recognize the girl in the photo. My eyelashes are non-existant,

my pregnancy mask (sun damage) is prominent, eye brows ungroomed, hair askew, acne ever present, eyes sad and red, cheeks puffy from crying and allergies. Don't shy away from it, search it. See me for who I am, a mess.

I try and be vulnerable with heart issues, but today, I take off the literal mask and will be vulnerable in revealing my true face.

I have to trust that Jesus made me beautiful because I don't often see it. Whether you accept me or reject me, I trust I am still his child and he delights in me, while being messy.

Feel free to drop by unannounced and challenge my efforts of being vulnerable with my home in turmoil and my face a mess. And if you do drop by, bring chocolate.