I swear, this is the best possible word to describe myself.
If I look at my life at any moment, at least one aspect of it is a mess.
My house is a mess...
My car is a mess...
Our schedule is a mess...
...and even sometimes my marriage is a mess.
In our house, we love hard, we play hard, we are messy.
Parenting, marriage, and friendships aren’t wrapped up in packages with shiny bows.
We’re imperfect people, and with imperfection comes mess. And friends, that’s okay.
One of the mistakes I often make is pretending that I’m not messy.
I’m kind of a disaster, and most of the time, I’m doing everything I can to keep from self-destructing.
Something I have learned that is really important because it impacts those we love is this:
When we pretend to be perfect, we make other people feel like they have to be perfect
What we end up with is... a string of shallow relationships that are built on what we allow others to see in us, instead of who we truly are. This is sad, friends. We need to be authentic and transparent. I can’t stress it enough!
We have this amazing opportunity to free ourselves and others from the idea of perfection by admitting that we aren’t perfect.
By stating our struggles, sharing our mistakes, and being there for others when they confess their imperfections to us, we can build real, authentic communities.
Communities can’t be built on images. They have to be built on loving people just the way they are.
The real, messy, dirty stuff that comes along with you is the same junk your friend carries with her! Share this burden, so neither of you have to do life alone!
Community-the real kind-allows for the sharing of grief, hurt, joy, anger-- all of it.
Without fear of judgement...
Without fear of being disowned...
With complete confidence that whatever is said will be kept in the community...
Can we do that, friends? Can we share our mess with others?
Man, I hope so.
Because pretending is exhausting.
Life is messy and chaotic, but, it is beautiful, too.
Can’t we look back at some of the moments when we thought we were drowning and see how that difficult time brought beauty?
How that season of garbage made our marriage closer.
How the time the pantry was empty gave us hearts for the poor.
How the months we were floundering as parents made our child see that we would not let them fall away.
We have someone to lean on...
We have someone to tell you there is beauty at the end...
We might even have someone who has already been there, and can help us navigate the muddy waters of our problems...
"I'm a full-time mom and a sometimes teacher who loves Jesus, her husband, and a great cup of coffee. Oh, and Moscato. For the days when coffee isn't quite strong enough."
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More about Becky:
I’m Becky—Rebecca, really, but nobody actually calls me that. Not even when I’m in trouble. First, and most completely, I’m a follower of Jesus. I wish I were perfect in this walk, but, maybe like some of you, I’m simply doing as best I can, relying on His perfection to fill in the cracks. And there are lots of cracks.
Together with the tall, adorable soldier I married over a decade ago, I have three children: Mak, P, and G, and one miniature dachshund named Izzy. Our life together is located somewhere between Complete Chaos and Slightly Insane. We’re a messy bunch; we do loud and crazy, and we laugh a lot. My beautiful, precious tribe is worth their weight in dark chocolate brownies.
I’m an unapologetic fan of The University of North Carolina Tar Heels (where I earned a degree in elementary education), Peyton Manning, and chocolate chip cookies. Not always in that order, but with equal amounts of love and dedication.
Last, I am a Teller of Stories. My story mostly. I think our stories are important, not only because they shape who we are, but because they can be used to help and encourage others. Stories bring people together. Stories give us a new perspective. It’s my wish that you find that in this little corner.