A year ago my life was a mess. If you could imagine your emotional life as a house and the things in it as parts of your life; my emotional life looked like it was off “Hoarders UnCensored And Gone Wild.”

My life had gotten out of control with emotional mess stacked upon emotional mess. Even if there was something of value, I couldn’t have put my finger on it if you had asked me to. There were beautiful and valuable pieces of me within my life that were covered in dirt and filth. The smell of ruin lingered in the air, choking the very air I breathed. No light shone in. The windows had long been boarded up to cover my mess from outside eyes.

Then like the show Hoarders, my life was exposed too. My life mess was out there for everybody to see, judge and shake their heads at.

I began the slow, disgusting process of going through all that emotional rubble and trying to find the life underneath. I tried to sort through the garbage to find those things that were once valuable. As the dust finally was cleared out and the light began to shine in again; I began to once again take pride in cleaning my life out and shining things back up.

As I began to cart the emotional trash out to the street there were those who would stop and ask me what I was doing. What is that? What did you keep that around for?

At first I tried to ignore them. Singularly focused on my task, but the questions kept coming about my house and how I allowed my life to get into such a condition.

I began talking about it. I would hold up a bag of the nastiest parts of my life and explain the how, why and when. I began to connect with people who had the same messes. Sympathizing with them about how it gets out of control so fast. Sharing with them the way to clean it up. Even pitching in with a broom from time to time.

I found a “Message” in my “Mess.”

Those parts in my life that were the ugliest became the most beautiful as I found a way to use them to love on those around me.

There was a time that I wished my life different. That I cursed those hardships. Times that there was a nightly pity party thrown complete with Kleenex and cake to celebrate my misery.

Then I prayed that something good would come out of all of it. I prayed that I could be used even in my broken state. I found those times that He wanted to use me as I acknowledged the mess for what it truly was. He certainly provided me a message from my mess.

He showed me that no matter how broken you may become, how messy your life has become and how little light ever makes it into your heart…there is still hope and a second, third, fourth, etc. chance to start living again just waiting on you when you are ready to get started and start digging through the mess.

Categories: being broken, changes, faith, life, Uncategorized