Picture (Im)Perfect

I have the privilege of living in a charming craftsman home on a lush five acre lot. This home has been handed down for four generations in my husband's family. It was a treasure generously given to my little family and every day I am thankful.

Our home is easy to spot. Actually most people in my town know exactly where I live because my house has existed longer than any living person in our town. And most likely, God willing and the creek don't rise (Yes, literally the beautiful creek nearby.), it will exist long after we're all gone.

The house stands on the corner of a popular cut-through between two well-traveled highways, so in addition to its history, it is also a landmark to travelers in this area of the county.

Because of this renown I'm a complete perfectionist as to what the outside of our house looks like. 

Which is a major problem.

Because the outside of my house usually looks like a wreck. 

In the years since we've lived here we've seen a tornado and a hurricane.

Tornado is almost six and loves baseball and sidewalk chalk. Hurricane is two and likes to pee in the grass and break all potted plants.

Therein lies my problem: a picturesque yard ain't happenin'. At least not for approximately 15 more years when Tornado is paying rent in his own place and Hurricane is enjoying his full ride to Duke. (Let's hope he stops relieving himself in the yard by then.)

Here's the thing: I don't care that my yard is not always mowed. Or that it has an obnoxiously large trampoline in it. Or that it currently looks like a Wet n' Wild water park complete with sprinkler, Slip n' Slide, and baby pool. I love it. My boys love it. They play. We laugh.

But I do care what others think of my yard. I cringe when I create in my mind what others are saying as they drive by.

What a gorgeous home - too bad it looks like a Toys R Us blew up in their grass.

That house has such history - I hate that they let those chickens walk around everywhere. 

(Did I forget to mention the chickens? Their names are John Adams, Darth Chicken, and the red one.)

I'm happy with my home, but I'm not happy with what others think about my home.

And friends, this attitude is not okay. I should not feel the need to apologize for the evidence of healthy, active children and chickens. 

Proverbs 29:25 says this:

It is dangerous to be concerned with what others think of you, 

but if you trust the Lord, you are safe. 

Truth be told I live in a sweet little town. And most likely when people drive by they say, "Look at those precious boys playing in their yard."

But I shouldn't care either way. The only judgement that should matter to me concerning my yard, my decisions, or my life is God's. I cannot concern myself with pleasing others. I must concern myself only with pleasing God.

If the clutter in my yard is evidence of a life lived with joy and love then I am guilty. I need to release myself from the guilt of a home that is not picture perfect. And I need to start taking pride in a life that is picture perfect.

I am so tired of looking at myself through the lens of other people and even the lens of my own, narrow vision. My life is best viewed through the lens of my Creator's eyes. And if I'm in Jesus then when He looks at me all He sees is perfection: the perfection of Jesus. 

One day, in years that will go by too quickly, my yard will be well-manicured and not a baseball field. Toy-free, but childhood free. Full of bright blossoms, but not one broken pot. Not one single kid peeing in the bushes as you drive by. 

So today I will appreciate the clutter and know that God, the only One whose opinion matters, thinks my yard looks pretty fantastic.

Lord, may it be so.

The Season That I'm In

I often say to friends going through difficult phases of life, "It's only for a season." 

This is my way of saying, "Hey, precious friend! The 2 am feedings won't last forever. It's only for a season!"

"I'm sorry your teenage son is acting like...a teenage boy. He'll grow out of it (*maybe*). It's only for a season!"

"I hate that your husband is having to work so much. But...it's only for a season!"

There are so many seasons a gal can go through: seasons of health and seasons of illness, seasons of joy and seasons of sadness, seasons of heart-soaring, make-your-friends-roll-their-eyes falling in love and seasons of friends-picking-up-the-pieces heartache. There are seasons of plenty and seasons of drought. There are too long winters and too short springs.

There are seasons when you can take a nap. And there are seasons where to sleep is simply a dream.

Now is the part where I share with you the season that I'm in. It's the season of complete and utter chaos. I have the great honor of being an elementary school teacher, a pastor's wife, and a Bible teacher, but it is my exceptional privilege to be the mother to a strong-willed, independent, creative, mud-puddle of a 5 year old boy. He is accompanied in all activities (good, bad, and down right ugly) by his shadow - my 2 year old son.

My beautifully restored and remodeled 1920s craftsman home is a sticky, couch-stained, giant playroomed, underwear in the living room mess. I wish it were clean. I wish it were magazine ready (ha!), but...it's not.

It's just not the season that I'm in.

So when my favorite Christmas carol tells me "All is calm! All is bright!" with such sincerity and purity - I have to chuckle. (As the cat nearly topples over the Christmas tree after drinking the tree's water.)

But then from my window - a picture perfect scene. My husband and the five year old mud puddle, outside playing in the yard: a call filled with laughter to his daddy, an embrace. And there it is-

Light in the chaos. Joy and laughter and crazy.

That's the season that I'm in.

And the season that we're all in now, Christmas, comes into focus with stark clarity. Just like the stars on a see-your-breath, lungs-cold kind of night. This world we live in is chaos - and not always the joyful kind. It contains the darkness of a fallen and sinful mankind. We who try so hard to put our hope in ourselves, but fall disastrously short.

We try to save ourselves. We always have. But we can never quite accomplish it.

But then! Through the din of chaos and darkness God sent his love letter to the world. The Word became flesh! And a great Light appeared!

John 1:1-5 (This is much easier to read if every time you hear "the Word" you think "Jesus.")
"1 In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. 2 He was with God in the beginning. 3 Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made. 4 In him was life, and that life was the light of all mankind. 5 The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it."

Isaiah 60:1-5 (This is a prophecy written 700 years before the birth of Jesus.)
"1 “Arise, shine, for your light has come, and the glory of the Lord rises upon you.
2 See, darkness covers the earth
and thick darkness is over the peoples,
but the Lord rises upon you
and his glory appears over you.
3 Nations will come to your light,
and kings to the brightness of your dawn."

John 8:12
"Again Jesus spoke to them saying, "I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will not walk in darkness, but will have the light of life."

1 Peter 2:9
"...that you may proclaim the excellencies of him who called you out of the darkness and into his wonderful light."

My night may not be silent (There he is! The two year old shadow waking up from his nap...). My night may not always be calm, but Lord Jesus! Let it always be bright! Bright with your goodness and mercy and grace. With your compassion and humility and great love!  

Bright with the knowledge that "we have heard from him and declare to you: God is light, in him there is no darkness at all." (1 John 1:5)

In all my seasons, Lord, let me walk, live, breathe, and bask full-face in your light.

Lord, may it be so.

Amen.