© jb katke
I’ve been here before, but each revisit becomes a little more serious. More intentional.
Another garage sale season is coming upon us. Even though I say ‘never again,’ I find myself doing it again. They are so much work! Can I get an Amen?
We have an antique chair from Grandma Andrews house. A no longer needed area rug. Clothes too big; can’t say they are mine darn it. And that blasted quilt room I practically never enter anymore. It’s become a cesspool of excess everything.
I feverishly worked at yet another purge. My fabric is stored on those cardboard bolts that the fabric stores use. After emptying fourteen of them I felt good about myself. Never mind the room looks like a hot mess. Bins, bolts, and fabric strewn everywhere. Apparently people are right, I have enough fabric to open a store.
Now I can put the fabric that was in storage bins on these empty bolts and be rid of the bins. With room to spare…ha! I did empty a bin, but now my shelves are bursting again and I haven’t even gotten to the bin downstairs.
Enough of this nonsense. Clear the ironing board so you can at least get the ironing done. Only to learn a button is missing from a pants pocket. That led me to scrounging in the button box. One would think that having close to a bazillion buttons, I could easily find one that matches. Another ha!
Mission accomplished after my husband tells me he never buttons that pocket. How many times must one set out on a project, get distracted by another, and give up because it’s a hopeless mess?
Life is like my quilt room; it never seems to be what I think it should. I can rise out of bed, full of ambition, and get side-tracked so easily. Or maybe reality sets in. Do you sometimes feel like a hopeless hot mess?
An alarming realization came to mind. Today, right here, right now, could be where Jesus wants to meet with you. If you are down so low that all you can do is look up. Look up to him. He doesn’t want us to stay down low, but he does want us to see him in our mess. That is the coolest thing, he meets us right where we are at.
Like a box full of useless buttons, a life without Jesus is a side-track of the here and now. That is a dangerous place to be. Moving out of this life, is moving on to another. Let him purge out all the excess baggage in your heart so there is room for him. It will feel so good, and you will be ready to live in the mansion he’s prepping just for you.