Messy

So I'm the girl who used to spend awhile (we don't really need to be put a time frame on it, do we?)  in front of the mirror to make sure that every hair was where it was suppose to be. I remember the frustration if it didn't look just right or if I couldn't get that piece to lay just where I wanted it. But tonight I walked past the mirror and was struck by the messiness of my hair. I had haphazardly pulled it away from my face and just let it be - and it was one of those rare moments when I thought, "Huh, I sorta look beautiful."

Imagine that... I was so struck by the parallel to my life. There was a time when life didn't seem so messy - I could explain a lot of it, and put things in their place. When life didn't make sense, I just worked at it and pretty soon, it straightened out. But now... there is a lot that can't be explained or even rationalized. No matter what I do, how long I work to make it right, sometimes it's just messy. If there's anything that I'm recognizing, it's that too often there isn't a place for everything. Sometimes life's just messy. Maybe it is the messiness in our lives that is actually beautiful. Imagine that...

So I want to be messy - to not make excuses for it, to not try to fix it, but to look for the beauty in it. Life is messy, but I'm beautiful in spite of it, and I pray, maybe even because of it.