Clean up time
A relentless storm of thoughts intrudes upon my morning. It is fierce. It howls to be heard; and this is what I hear -
God…
Syrup…
My unwillingness…
His faithfulness…
The intrusion is necessary.
And I laugh and I cry, because there is fresh rosemary syrup spilt inside my fridge and it’s trickling down the white walls and I don’t want to clean it. I want answers - who spilled the jar and just left it - and why did s/he think this was okay? But instead of demanding their pause in my pain, I laugh and I cry. This predicament is teaching me something… I can feel it in my bones…
Fresh rosemary and sage from our garden. We will soon make it into glorious syrup - that refuses to solidify - but is still so delicious, so soothing to our souls. While messy, wild schooling is my favorite.
You might be the person who cleans up the messes in your home too, my dear friend.
But I want you to pause here and answer this:
Who cleans up the messes in your life?
Have you ever thought about this before?
While soaking soiled shirts and kissing injured knees and re-washing kitchen floors or counters or tables… while mending the errors in your colleagues work - or your own - and begging for relationships to be in a better place and space…
Who is cleaning up? Who is nurturing you, nourishing you, tending to the flame of your spirit and soul?
Truly, I make mountains out of mole hills and request water to be wine over and over again. I take on more than I can handle, ask for more than what I can chew, moan under the weight of another yes… or an uncomfortable no…
Who is cleaning up?
Who cleans up the messes I make?
For me, it’s God.
He is as relentless as my thoughts, mothering me with soft whispers and beautiful blessings and unanswered prayers (they aren’t all supposed to be answered, so I’ve found).
So today I ask again…
Who cleans up the messes in your life?
Do you ever notice something shift and you’ve done nothing to make it happen? Perhaps you haven’t even made the request for it to happen, yet?
In these moments, more than ever, I look up.
I look up.
// to read more posts like these visit our Hope Notes, a collaborative space where we look up together… in motherhood… in life.
