My Beautiful Mess

I stand on my back porch looking down at the bright blue Play-Dough smashed deep into the fabric of a once cream colored porch rug. The whole "Play-Dough look" really classes up the joint let me tell you. Yep, we've got a real parade of homes over here. I shake my head and whisper to myself, "that's not coming out...not a chance." Despite telling the small hyperactive delinquents that live with me not to get Play-Dough on the carpet inside or outside, that is precisely what they do. They know the rules, they hear my requests and my pleas, they just choose not to listen.
Despite Amber's most diligent and unending efforts, our home often looks like the fraternity house I  lived in for a good portion of college. To really drive home the comparison of the two properties, I could share with you how I noticed a random pink Hawaiian Lei hanging from a bathroom drawer while I brushed my teeth two mornings ago. The kind of thing that makes you stop mid brush and stare confusingly. Like somehow just looking at the unusual object hard enough will somehow explain it's origin or cause it's placement to make more sense. After a good 45 second staring contest, I still had nothing. The lei was no doubt placed there by the smallest one. She may be little, but she was sent to cause my premature baldness, and to solidify our decision to remain a family of 5. She's 2 years old and she spends most of her time walking from room to room in high heels stolen from her mom's closet creating messes like Picasso painted.
As an admitted "neat freak," I can't help but notice the middle one's "dirty" clothes lying in her bedroom floor constantly. The girl changes outfits no less than 3 times a day. She's got more wardrobe changes in a single evening, than a Celion Dion concert. Then there's the large hole in the garage dry wall from a trash can "placed" back in it's usual resting spot by the oldest after completing his weekly chore of bringing the trash can back into the garage from the curbside. I could go on, and on, but suffice it to say, this place is often a mess.
As a father, it can be frustrating to be disobeyed. My patience and good nature are tested by these messes. Admittedly however, it's a beautiful mess here, made by beautiful people. Despite the constant and random disorder, I wouldn't trade these kids or their messes for the whole world. These are the kids that Amber and I made.
I love the line from the 80's comedy, "Planes, Trains, and Automobiles," when Steve Martin's character is talking to John Candy's character about Candy's wife, and Martin asks Candy, "You love her, don't you?" To which John Candy's character replies, "Love is not a big enough word. It's not a big enough word for how I feel about my wife." That sums up my feelings and mindset about my children. It's also how God feels about us, as His children. Despite telling us the rules, despite His requests, and His pleas, we choose not to listen. We make a mess of our lives. We make a mess of our world.
God has every right to turn his back on us, to forsake us, to give up on us, but He never has and He never will. If you remember nothing else from this silly blog, remember this: love isn't a big enough word for the way your Father feels about you. You are worthy. You have a purpose. You have a future. Nothing you've ever done or will ever do, will ever separate you from the love of your Father. He loves you so very much. You are His beautiful mess.
Much Love, Adam

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