Meet Me in the Mess

I’m a mess. Not just the full blown haven’t showered in three days, laundry everywhere, eating chocolate hot cross buns for dinner kind of mess. The kind of mess where my soul cannot find solid ground. The mess where my emotions have taken over and ransacked my mind. The kind of mess I find spilling unwontedly into my world. The kind of mess which has the power to derail me… I’m deliriously determined to pull myself back in to line. But I’m exhausted yanking on those reigns. It’s only for a short amount of time where I seem on track and then off they go again like unbroken horses… except I’m broken. Completely.

This is the kind of mess I sweep aside. The kind of mess I’ve hid behind on the platform, behind the scenes. The kind I learnt very quickly if exposed wouldn’t get you places. The kind of mess that made you the wrong kind of leader. The kind of mess that meant people wouldn’t trust you. Like you. Love you.

But then I realised something… we’re all in our own kind of mess. Since when did we decide the mess wasn’t okay? Who told me this was the kind of mess that I can’t be real with or in? Who led me on the path where I had to have it all together? To lead, meant to have it all sorted? To love, meant I had to be perfect? This unkept mess is just the kind of mess we need to dwell for a time in and find Him in.

You know, He’s been there the whole time right? Deep among the thoughts you wish you didn’t have, the things you should’ve done. The way you didn’t forgive that person or the moment your trust was taken away for good. Wading in the hurt when you were rejected, teased, tossed aside, forgotten. Well babe, He’s in that kind of mess. I’ve learnt He loves that kind of mess, because when we choose to recognise the debris we’re knee deep in He gets to begin the conversation – the one you’ve been avoiding all this time. The one you fight tears back from. The one you bury in your stride. The one you wrestle perpetually with from bubbling to the surface. The one you run so hard in your busy from. He’s there in the mess, ready to have that type of conversation with you. But baby He’s tender, He’s patient. He waits… for the moment when you’re ready.

And I can’t even tell you how beautiful those first words are…

“It’s going to be okay”

Closely followed behind with:

“I love for you who you are, not what you’ve done or what’s been done to you…”

“I’ve got you…”

“Come my beloved, draw closer to me, it’s okay, it’s all going to be okay…”

And as you slowly unravel in to the mess you realise the mess is part of you, it’s on you, it’s in you, it makes you. It’s part of your story and no part should be missing. He sees that. He knows that. He gently picks up what we see as trash and brings healing to it. He puts it to the side and says you no longer have to carry it’s marring effect on your journey. You can keep it over here in His hands, safe, formed, whole again. Each piece He picks up He’s gentle with; He’ll ask first if you’ll let Him go there, if you’ll allow Him to hold it. Reassuring the whole way this piece no longer can defect your stride. You realise He’s been there in the secret place, gently building your mess into something more than you could imagine. Binding up your brokenness shard by shard, softening it’s edges and fashioning it. What once was a dark wreckage in your eyes, He has been gradually restoring and weaving; forming the relics of our hurt, sowing with our tears. Thread by thread, He’s drawing you together among the mess. He’s breathing light into the darkness, the dirt He’s been washing with His grace. Hope is never lost and nothing is irredeemable. Don’t lose hope sweet one, He’s got you. Hold on and don’t let go. I know you feel like you’re going around in circles, but that’s how the walls come down. Keep walking sweet one, one step in front of the other. Don’t rush the process of refinement and renovation. He’s preparing you for your promised land – He’ll tell you when it’s time to shout. So hang in there.

He’s fashioning for you a garment of praise, and it’s made up of your mess interlaced with His grace. Without it you can’t enter into His calling for you and for His people. So sweet one, embrace the mess. Be okay with the mess, invite Him into that kind of mess. The kind of mess that tells your story. The kind of mess that brings authenticity into your leadership. The kind of mess that makes others feel at ease, because they too are knee deep in their own muck. The kind of mess that will open doors for you… for Him. The kind of mess He works through and points you to Jesus with, so you can point others to Him also.

This is the kind of mess He specialises in.

Your unravelling is your making, He contours a you-shaped garment of praise. He stands there with nail scarred hands, beckoning while He readies you to step into it. He clothes you in it with all of heaven’s affection toward you.

And as He does you will Him say…

“That’s what I came here to do.”