By Brooke Luby
Life is a complete mess.
I don’t mean this in a hopeless, rip-your-hair-out way. It’s more sweet, like a toddler covered in chocolate pudding. As much as I think I am this free thinker, go-with-the-flow ,”let’s see where life takes me,” kind of person, I am still obsessed with control. I still try to clean up, to bring about order, to try and fix things… and people. I guess that’s not necessarily a bad thing.
We are all trying to create some kind of order out of the chaos that it is to be human, but I think the danger in doing so is refusing to see our humanity.
I am human. We are all human. What does that mean? My scab bleeds when I pick it. I am indecisive and judgmental. I long for intimacy and for someone to see me for who I am. I am a bundle of contradictions, addictions, a tangled mess of beauty and ugliness and love and hate. We all are.
I don’t think being a Christian means ignoring that, or somehow thinking I am above all that. Because Jesus is ultimate reality, looking to Him should lead us to complete honesty. We want to be so “spiritual”; we want to play God. So, we control.
I do it all the time. I plan out how conversations and situations are going to look in my head. I manipulate to try to get people to see my accomplishments, my “brilliance.” It’s gross; it’s pride. It’s our fallen humanity in action.
If you look at the Bible, you see that it reflects the life of screwed-up people and a flawless, loving God, perfectly. The Bible’s writers did not choose to sanitize it and make it “safe for the whole family.” Scandal, blood and guts, and steamy sex scenes are common place in this book some people see as archaic and irrelevant. Hollywood couldn’t write a screenplay as intense as half of the Old Testament! Yet, the Bible is overflowing with beauty, grace and redemption. It is God’s story. It is my story.
I am beginning to see that life is a mess, but the mess is, in fact, beautiful. Does a parent love her kid any less when he smears chocolate pudding all over his face? It’s funny; no matter how many times you give a little kid a bath, it’s like they keep getting dirty. It’s almost like they are a dirt magnet. Yet somehow, getting dirty is part of the adventure.
Think about every story that ever captured you, every fairy tale or epic cartoon you fell asleep thinking about as a kid. The protagonist has his highs and lows, his times of great assurance, and his times of doubt and fear. His times of getting into the most messy situations, but somehow over coming and ending up victorious.
There are times, when I want all of the adventure, but I want it packaged neatly. I want to know the outcome. It’s like I wish I could cheat and read ahead in a “Chose Your Own Adventure” books, working my way backwards to get the desire results. I cling to certainty and stability, I live for it. But where does that leave faith? Is certainty and stability what I really want? Is it even possible? Life is messy, uncertain, ridiculous, beautiful, and painful. The truth is, I am afraid. I am afraid to live. I am afraid to trust God. I am afraid of being rejected, of messing up, of my heart being broken. I don’t really want to face the pain that comes from being truly alive. The risk it takes. Embracing life completely means embracing the pain and mess that comes
Being human means we’re gonna get dirty. It’s inevitable. We’re going to say things we regret; we’re going to feel insecure one moment and puffed up the next. Our hearts are going to break.
I see Jesus in this, too. Sometimes, if I really open my eyes, I see Jesus more in the moments when I am smeared with self-hatred or chocolate pudding, or mud or condemnation. He’s there, smiling:
“I love you. You’re beautiful. Now, let’s go take a bath.”
Brooke is a writer and missionary who would love to swim in a pool of chocolate pudding. Check out her book All Things Are Becoming New, a collection of poems, here.