This morning I made a big mess in my pantry:
I had stupidly been storing flour in a zipper storage bag. As you can see, my pantry is very deep so stuff tends to get lost back there. This gallon-sized bag of flour was one of those lost items. When I went to retrieve it, I pulled it out by the bottom (mistake #2) and behold the mess! This picture was taken after I pulled out more stuff that was in front of and under the mess. More was on the floor.
I sent a picture to my friend who asked if the bag had exploded. It certainly did look that way. But no, I explained to her what happened and likened it to a slow leak. When I got to the back of the shelf, I realized that flour had probably been coming out of the bag for a while. But nobody noticed because it wasn't doing any real harm in the deep, dark back of the pantry.
It wasn't too long before God started connecting the dots for me.
Disclaimer: I don't like to use extended metaphors, but this one just screamed to be used. Bear with me, please.
In my last post, I wrote about how my heart had been leaking junk for quite a while before I noticed any real problem. Since I started addressing the actual heart problem before God, He began pulling out items here and there. And when He finally got to the source of the leak and began the long process of pulling it out of the dark (which is far from over), I began grieving over the mess.
I grieve because I know how these things go. When God chooses to use something to refine me, especially this particular issue, I know the process will be long and difficult.
It took me about 30 minutes and a trip to Wally World to clean up the flour mess:
I certainly felt a measure of victory over the disorganization, especially since I have had it on my "to do" list for some time.
But I know God has depths of knowledge and insight to reveal to me on my real problems. And He won't do it in 30 minutes.
As much as I would like my emotional life to be nice and tidy like my pantry, or even more so, God is showing me that no part of our lives ever fit into airtight containers or tiny bins (yes, the metaphor is killing me too, but I can't help it!). And very few things are black and white, especially when it comes to such things as emotions and relationships.
But I want desperately for certain things to fit in a box. I want definition. I want the straight path.
God keeps reminding me that life isn't like that. We live in a fallen world where things are not as they should be.
So, I'm starting the painful process of letting go of an ideal. I don't know where it will take me, and that's pretty much part of the package. But I do know that the Lord will be there with me, whispering truths to me when I call on Him or using the piercing sword of His word when I refuse to listen. And I know, as Job, that God "knows the way that I take; when he has tried me, I shall come out as gold" (Job 23:10). I can take this truth to the bank.
I am thankful to have a Savior that left the Heavenly places for a while so that He could understand things like messes in the pantry and confusing emotions and broken relationships. I am thankful that His death made a way for me to climb up and pull on His ear.
And I am thankful that He loves me through it all.
"Hello, my name is Christy and I curse badly when I'm alone and have a tendency towards angry outbursts." Nice to meet you.
Don't you just wish we could all greet one another like we were in a perpetual AA meeting so that we could stop pretending to have it all together? You don't? Yeah, I guess I don't either.
But it is helpful to confess our sins to one another (James 5:16), and I suppose this is one of my outlets for doing so. So, you'll have to just bear with me.
I've had a pretty rough past couple months sprinkled with some joyous moments. Unfortunately, the rough moments slightly outweighed the joyful ones. I thought I had been handling my emotions pretty well through it all, but today I realized some junk has been seeping through the cracks of my heart and revealing that I'm not in as much control as I had thought.
The junk (i.e. what I opened with) has been getting a little out of hand, okay a lot out of hand lately. The other day I finally went to the Lord about it all. My opening line was the first red flag: "I thought I was handling my emotions pretty well." And God, as he is wont to do when we come to him with repentant hearts, pushed through that and showed me the I's in that statement. Where was he?
As I fumbled and finally broke down halfway through the prayer, God pulled scripture to mind: "From the depths of the heart, the mouth speaks" (Luke 6:45). Yes, something was jacked up in my heart, but what was it? I was handling everything well, wasn't I? My eyes locked in on the devotion from Jesus Calling I had read that morning which read, "Remember that I take great delight in you."
Great delight? No, not great delight in my sin. Not great delight in my feeling wretched in that moment or in my tears. He takes great delight in my drawing in close to him, my confiding in him, my need for him to fix my brokenness. He takes great delight in us.
See, I hadn't been spending much time with him lately. And, believe it or not, God is jealous for our love. So he allowed me to go my own way in "handling" my emotions until I realized my foolishness and came back to him.
This is the constant battle I have with myself--controlling my thoughts, emotions, overall life versus allowing God to control my thoughts, emotions, and life. The very idea that I could handle on my own all the emotionally brutal events from the past couple months is simply ridiculous. I know part of why it feels satisfying to hold everything together is something that's been with me since childhood. But part of it--even if it is a very small part--also has to do with thinking that keeping control of all of my junk somehow shows others what a good Christian I am. I am sure I'm not the only one who does this.
And that leads me back to my wonderful Savior. You see, he does not delight in my putting all my emotions in a neat box. He does not delight in my venting my pain through channels that the world deems as normal and acceptable.
He delights in my coming to him as an absolute broken-down mess. He delights in my confession of sin and pain and doubt because he knows exactly how I feel and exactly how to fix me. He delights in my turning away from my idol of self-reliance to nestle in his lap. He delights simply in our being together.
He reached down from on high and took hold of me; he drew me out of deep waters. He rescued me from my powerful enemy, from my foes, who were too strong for me. They confronted me in the day of my disaster, but the Lord was my support. He brought me out into a spacious place; he rescued me because he delighted in me. --Psalm 16-19
