Beautiful The Mess We Are

I listened to a new song today ~ thanks to a sweet friend. And, I think I ended up listening to it a total of 45 times ~ give or take a time or two. And, I cry every single time. Not because it is sad. It isn't a sad song at all. In fact, at one point as I was driving my boys to the park listening and crying, I thought, "You know, Erin, you really ought to analyze this and figure out exactly what it is that makes you cry when you hear this song." So, I began to really think about it...

First the song ~ Better Than a Hallelujah (Amy Grant)

"God loves a lullaby in a mother's tears in the dead of night better than a Hallelujah sometimes. God loves a drunkard's cry, the soldier's plea not to let him die better than a Hallelujah sometimes. . .

We pour out our miseries, God just hears a melody. Beautiful the mess we are, the honest cries of breaking hearts are better than a Hallelujah sometimes.

A woman holding on for life, a dying man giving up the fight are better than a Hallelujah sometimes. Tears of shame for what's been done. The silence when the words won't come are better than a Hallelujah sometimes ~ better than a church bell ringing, better than a choir singing out, singing out..."

I've lived most of my life shouting Hallelujah. I've always been the early morning riser ~ rising to pray and spend focused time with God. I have read through the Bible and studied his word so hard. I've memorized scripture, sometimes by the chapter, and I've spent countless hours attempting to do the "right" things. I made a checklist in my head in high school of things to do and not to do, and I lived by it like a Nazi.

But, somewhere along the way, somewhere between child 3 and child 4, I lost control. Suddenly, I became too tired to wake up at 5 every morning. And, suddenly, I found myself in a Beth Moore Bible study with, gasp ~ the horror, my homework not completed, my verses not memorized. And, I can't remember where certain verses, certain major, important, life-altering verses, are located. And, worst of all, I'm losing a temper that I never even knew I had!!!!!! I thought I was such a sweet, good girl!! What has become of me???? I don't even know this girl!!

Call it insecurity, but I like to prove my love to those I love. That is why I breathe, "I love you's" to my boys all day everyday. And, that is why I often struggle with guilt because I feel paralyzed to show Erik love like I used to in the old days. I used to run up to the office to eat lunch with him, bring him goodies, put songs in his car to make him smile when he cranked the engine, leave notes on his desk, write him poems, etc. But, now, I am just trying to survive and most of that slips to the side somehow. My heart hasn't changed. I'm just busy from sunup to sundown, and I'm not free to show my love the way I used to. . .

And, it is the same with God. I can't show God love the way I want to right now. I can't sit at His feet and sing Hallelujah for hours at a time. But, maybe I don't have to, maybe He knows. And, the thought that He might be glorified through my singing a lullaby to a sleepy child makes my heart sing. It makes me cry!

And, maybe, just maybe, my beautiful mess is better than a Hallelujah to Him! He knows my heart, and he knows that underneath that Nazi checklist is a heart that truly loves Him, my silly little type A attempt at love. I think He gets that. I think it likely amuses Him, but I think He loves me just the same.

And, so that silly type A girl that is so deeply attached to her checklist may on certain days feel a bit guilty about her inability to not keep her checklist perfectly checked off any longer. And, on one of those days, her sweet Father comes and whispers to her heart. . .

"You just hear the baby's cries, the toddler's whines, your tired, frustrated voice, but I hear a melody."

Beautiful, Jesus. Could it really be a melody to You?? Could the fun loving, tackling, wild, overstimulating chaos that is my world be beautiful to You?? I love the thought. The hope that even in this busy stage of my life where I am unable to simply sit at Your feet and meditate for hours, even here in this mess that is me, You are glorified. Oh, I do hope so!