Messy

The messes we make in life are very seldom "tidy". They tend to leave a little residue here and a little bit there... I was thinking about this last night as I tried to get a few indulgent moments of sleep between tending to, comforting, and cleaning up a very sick little Noe. Seven times between the hours of 11 pm and 7 am. When my head hit my pillow around 9:45 pm last night relief washed over me. I had accomplished much over the course of the day, but this mommy was beyond exhausted and bed and sleep were two beautiful words to my worn out mind and body. In a sleep deprived fog somewhere between 2 and 4 am (I lost track around 1:30) I heard him giving in to the ills of his digestive system once again and I admit, I did not want to get out of bed again. I knew that I needed to and I knew that he must be feeling awful! I forced my eyes open and tried to imagine up some kind of energy. As I pulled myself out of bed I remember having a fleeting hope that this time he would have at least vomited on the towel I had laid under his head. Only on the towel. In a nice, tidy, and easy to whisk up and throw into the washing machine, little area. No such luck. Oh, it was on the towel, but also the bumper pad, his special blanket, glow worm, floor... I don't have to go into all of the details. I guess I still do want people to read my blog. As I sat an equally exhausted Noe on the guest bed in his room and began the clean up job - for the 3rd or 4th time - I began to think about life's messes. Mind you, it was a very foggy brain that was contemplating these things, but in those moments of weary tasking some important things were still laid upon my heart. I don't like messes of any kind, but I especially cringe, or try to deny, the more abstract messes in life. They can be messes of my making or messes made at my expense, either way I have struggled for years with dealing with them head on. I have made some progress over the past couple of years, but I still tend to really try to "make" them tidy. And they aren't. They can't be "made" any thing but what they are. Messy. Wrong. Unfair. Accepting that is a tough pill to swallow. I can't make the messes in my life tidy any more than poor little Noe could've controlled the awful sickness that has overtaken his little body. Sometimes life isn't pretty. I did not encompass the love and selflessness of my Savior much at all as I cleaned and comfroted time and again. Fortunately He gave me just enough grace to get up each time, and one of those times I thought about Him as the ultimate mess cleaner. He doesn't complain that we did it again. If it was a mess of our chosing and making he knows that the circumstances resulting from that will certainly bring us to a point of crying out to Him. If, on the other hand, it was a mess that was out of our control and brought us to a point of sobbing disbelief - He is there as the great comfortor and healer. And in those early morning moments I saw very clearly that in as much as I can not make life's messes tidy, there is one, and only one, who knows about all of them and is able to heal. There is this sin thing, and this free will thing - so there will always be messes. If God were to remove the messes or immediately tidy them than he would be taking away those two things. And as of yet, it is not time for that. But there will be a day...