The Mess in the Midst

I am sick with a cold. So is my son. He brought it home to me from school and we shared it. Only I am sicker than he, which I won't say I'm upset about (since it is possible for me to crash and psuedo-nap if I can't go on, but he has to tough it out all day and through football practice).

Nonetheless, I hate being sick. I sort-of slept on the loveseat last night, after I unscrewed the cover on the fan that I use for white noise and took out the thing wrapped around the motor that was making an annoying slapping noise. Actually, it was a few hours after that. Around two this morning.

zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

So, I'm sick, and I still miss my son terribly when he goes away in the mornings (especially knowing he's not well), and my house is a certified mess because everything from my school library is now...






strewn about my home...







See. I wasn't kidding. What a load of stuff...

It's spread out because my husband didn't want the whole load in one room, to make it easier on the floor joists. The library room is at the back of the house and two walls are supported with the foundation block, so no worries there.

Now the room is gutted and the former shelving and counters are in a pile in our garage.


And the room has a new sub-floor and walls painted with Dove Gray.



The boxes on the floor are 3/4" hand-scraped oak hardwood flooring that we are going to put down when my husband has vacation again at the end of the month. The flooring has to sit in its environment for at least a week, but preferably two or more, to acclimate to the temperature and humidity of the room, before it's installed. It's a pecan stain, which matches our trim almost exactly.



God is definitely teaching me during this season.

Teaching me all sorts of things, like trust -- in Him, and in my husband's love for me and our family.


And patience. Ugh. I like for things to be the way I want them to be. And I hate change. I try to embrace it, but it seems like, lately, God sees me hanging on to something for comfort in the midst of the mess, something other than Him,  and He nudges me just a bit more until I have nothing left to grab hold of.

It hasn't been pretty. But God promises to bring beauty from ashes.

He is teaching me to trust His Word, to know that it is true. And to realize that believing His Word takes more than just a head acknowledgement that I believe it. I have to apply it to my life.

I have to cry out to Him instead of a sympathetic ear. Because all venting to someone does is relieve the pressure that God allowed to build so it would drive me to my knees to seek His face. I rant, I cry, and I go about my business. No wonder I, like the Israelites, go around the same dumb mountain so many times!

It's the reason that I can encourage others with passages from the Bible, but I don't automatically reach for them when I'm hurting. (Or if I do, it's been with a rabbit's-foot mentality.) It's the reason I try, for the umpteenth time, to tackle something from my own perspective, rather than seeking His wisdom to know what to do. And it's why I feel powerless when I pray, because I'm mostly telling God what I'd like to see happen and asking Him to bless my requests.

I feel laid bare. Gutted, like my library. I know that our library will look great when it is finished and all is made new and fresh. And God has a vision for how He wants to fill me up. I just need to let Him have His way with my mess in the midst of His fix.



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