When Messes Turn Into Messages

0

When Messes Turn Into Messages

I had some big plans for Saturday, y’all.

We’re talkin’ deep cleaning, closet ransacking, pantry purging, and even some yard sprucing . . .

Well, I probably don’t need to tell you that those grand intentions got dashed real quick once the little ones involved themselves in my mom mission.

At one point, I stepped out of the playroom to grab a load of laundry and returned to this . . .

When messes turn into messages

In the interest of being perfectly honest with you ladies, I had a temporary meltdown. Not verbally. It was more of an internal hellish shock moment.

In an attempt not to explode, I stepped outside the room and quickly sorted out my options:

(1) I could burst back in there belting “Clean up time! Clean up time! CLEAN UP TIIIMMMEEE!”

OR

(2) I could breathe. And remind myself that while I’m making all kinds of grand plans, God is smirking just a bit. And it was in that moment that He reminded me to peek in at those little ones. To give them a big dose of grace and stop and savor the moment.

My little ones were having the time of their lives.  And, yes, at the expense of paint on the walls and their Momma’s level of sanity . . . BUT, nevertheless, they were building memories.

And I thought about how that transferred over to my life, too. Sometimes, some of my biggest messes (both literally and figuratively) in life created some of the greatest memories.

Why is it that we kill ourselves to perfect the façade?

Why do we struggle and juggle and attempt to balance every single thing at the expense of the most important things?

do value a (somewhat) clean home.

But, I value well-rounded, content, God-loving, adventurous, happy family members more.

Kids are young. And innocent. And playful.

They make messes.

Life goes on.

Namaste . . .

But in all seriousness, I learned that God’s plans are always bigger and better than ours. Rather than dominating my to-do list this weekend, I spent extra time making memories with my little ones in a heap of Barbies and pretend play food.

And if I’m being honest, those moments were way cooler than anything I had on my silly agenda.

I did, of course, use this opportunity to reinforce proper clean up techniques, BUT I reminded myself to never discourage the mess . . .

Because often times, it’s there, deep in life’s messes, that we receive the most profound messages.

Previous articleA Fourth Baby and a Gender Surprise
Next articleA “Thank You” to the Dad I Never Had
Erin is a proud Bama girl, writer, speaker, lawyer, friend, lunchbox packer, boo-boo kisser, sweatpants wearing Momma to her two precious girls: Bellalise (5) – a sweet, gentle-natured soul, and Annalise (4, going on 14) – the life of every party. She met her husband Marshall during law school and drug that Cajun boy back to the Heart of Dixie, a place he now proudly calls home as well. They live in Birmingham where their dining room is currently being used for laundry overflow. Outside of writing, Erin’s hobbies include scrapbooking, tennis, online shopping (don’t tell Marshall), crafting, cooking with her girls and a clean fridge – an outright miracle worth celebrating these days. She is the author of the must-have read for Moms: Cheers to the Diaper Years: 10 Truths for Thriving While Barely Surviving, and the soon to be Girls-Night sensation: The Remarkable Housewives of the Bible series! When she isn’t attending toddler tea parties or wiping up spaghetti stains, you can find Erin writing on her blog: ErinBrownHollis.com and on Facebook / Instagram / Twitter @erinbrownhollis. She welcomes all moms to find a community of love and acceptance on her site where she shares recipes, crafts and encouragement weekly.