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My Mess is a Beautiful Gift | Guest Post

My Mess is a Beautiful Gift | Guest Post

image from Aly Chase I wonder if she can tell I’m a mess.

I sit lightly on my chair, turning the porcelain cup slowly in my hands. I fight the urge to bite my lip and stare deep into my creamed coffee as if it holds the courage I think I need. I swallow the feeling that comes right before I pull back the curtain on the not-so-shiny pieces of me.

The truth will set you free.

I have learned this the really hard way over the last year. And by learned, I mean learned again. For perhaps the forty-sixth time in this life. Stick around here long enough and you will hear plenty of examples.

There is something about the ego that wants to present that polished, Broadway-worthy opening act while the backstage looks like a poor excuse for a ramshackle circus. I have learned I do this to protect myself from the judgment of others. And that judgment will come, ladybird, no matter how polished my act looks. So another day slips by, held captive by fear and pride and I think there is no way I am qualified to write about truth.

I want to be a woman who sits lightly on her chair, ignoring her coffee and staring deeply into the eyes of her friends.

A woman who pours out her uglies and her struggles because there will be someone at that table who will relate and benefit and be encouraged and comforted that she is not the only one who hasn’t got it all together.

A woman who models what it looks like to rejoice before the Lord, sometimes through tears, even when it hurts.

A woman who risks wild obedience, caring only for the judgment of her Heavenly Father because He is truly the only judge who matters.

A woman transparent.

I have seen glimpses of this woman, but I’m not her yet. I am still finding a balance between

“Here I am in all my messy, broken glory,” (2 Timothy 2:15)

and

“A mature woman doesn’t need to say everything to everyone.” (Proverbs 10:8)

I am still learning to look for those opportunities to be the balm on the broken heart of another by baring my own. Setting down the burden of the polished opening act. Picking up the hearts of real women in my care. Trusting them to breathe a little grace into my own mess.

A woman who’s weaknesses become her greatest gifts.


I am so happy to feature Aly Chase as a guest writer today! For more from Aly, visit her at One Day Lighter.

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