At the risk of sounding like some pitiful, self-absorbed, whining, middle-aged basket case, I tell you it has been that kind of day, er week, really.
Unorganized. Messy. Sticky. Intertwined. No beginning. No end. Unpredictable.
I will spare you the details, but let's just say after crying my self into a severe migraine things are still not much better. There is still the mess. The clutter.
Processing life and its twists and turns can be overwhelming at times. Accepting that most of life is uncontrollable truly unnerves and frustrates this obsessive-compulsive personality.
So after tears shed, words heard, fears revealed, hands held, and long embraces I emerge once again on these wobbly legs. To stand. Among the mess.
Life isn't perfect.
But Love is.
I decided I am having company tonight. An invitation. And I am not picking up any of the mess before the guest arrives.
Everything is sprawled out.
The ugly mess.
I invite Love into my home.
Have free run of this house.
Make yourself welcome.
Make yourself at home.
in this beautiful mess.
I John 4:18