Life is messy, we know this. Especially when you have 4 kids as I do, everything is messy; the floor, the bathrooms, the kitchen, my shirt... But the real mess is the one you can’t see. The one we all have but with strategic Instagram posts we hide the mess and show off a well styled moment.
Sometimes we’re brave and admit to our closest friends that things are rough, it’s hard to be a mom, marriage is work, money is the devil, my body is a squishy road map… but really? Let's dig a little deeper. We’re broken. What makes being broken hard is not the fact that were hurting, it’s the false idea that we aren't supposed to be broken in order to be good or important. What if it was collectively acceptable to be hurt, sad, confused, and angry in rightful seasons of our lives? Yes angry! I'm talking pissed off, unforgiving, mad as hell, broken hearted. Maybe if we didn’t place so much value in being problem free we might give people the space and grace to process instead of hide and medicate. It's ok to be a mess. And when we're messy, we don't need to be fixed. We need to be loved.
So. Let your damn mess show a little bit. What ever it is you’re feeling, feel it! I think some of the crap we deal with in life even deserves some elevated profanity and maybe a few punches. It deserves some screaming and yelling and crying and throwing things…
(Have you seen Steel Magnolias, the scene at Shelby's funeral when MaLynn loses her shit...) "Not a very Christian thing to do." We've all been MaLynn at some point.
Unpacking my mess. That is what the last few years has been about for me. I failed to fully grieve the loss of my marriage and family at the beginning of the process and so, with my broken heart and my broken head, I made a few messes. Now I’m cleaning up those messes with some good old fashion rage, a lot of crying, and just a little bit at a time, I’m letting it all go. None of this is happening in anyone else’s timing, nor should it. I’m just doing what I need to do to heal. No pretending, no masking, just being and feeling the feels.
I found these photos of my kids in a mud fight from a few years ago and remembered how mad I was at first. My instinct was to hose them down and discipline them for creating such a mess. Looking at these photos now, I’m really glad I let them be messy. This was a great day.