From The Squalor Of A Borrowed Stable

I'm a country gal, so I'm one of these people who simply loves the smell of a farmyard. 

 

However, whilst I love the smell whilst I'm out walking, it's not a smell I would like in my own home.  Far less, when I was giving birth.

 

We tend to have a preconceived, polished idea about the nativity scene: we send each other Christmas cards with an air-brushed Madonna and baby.  The shepherds and wise men are strategically placed to frame the newborn baby and the animals look as though they have just been washed and cleaned for the occasion.

 

But the reality is that Jesus was born in amongst the animals.  It would have been messy and smelly and dirty.  It wasn't a clinical, sterilised maternity ward with midwives on hand to ease this new mother's birth.

 

"[Mary] gave birth to her first child, a son. She wrapped him snugly in strips of cloth and laid him in a manger, because there was no lodging available for them."

 

[Luke 2:7 NLT]

 

When you think that God could have chosen to enter the world in any way possible, we must ask why He chose to be born in such dire conditions.  The circumstances of His birth are hardly the stuff of fairytale.  Nor do they suggest His true identity or royalty.

 

But I love that Jesus was born into a messy, dirty situation.

 

It reminds me that He lovingly steps into the mess of my life, too.  I don't have to 'clean up' or make myself tidy or 'presentable'.  I don't have to tidy the mess of my life before I can come before Him.

 

I don't have to pretend to be perfect, or go through some sort of ritual to make myself good enough to come into His presence. 

 

And what's more, I know that He understands what it means to live in messy conditions - both literally and metaphorically.  He can understand my struggles.

"This High Priest of ours understands our weaknesses, for he faced all of the same testings we do, yet he did not sin.  So let us come boldly to the throne of our gracious God.  There we will receive his mercy, and we will find grace to help us when we need it most."

 

[Hebrews 4:15 NLT]

 

 

That's the kind of King I want.

 

 

 

Why Tidying Is Not Always A Good Thing

Whenever people come round to my flat, I always feel the need to tidy things up a bit - even if all I do is 'neaten' the mess.

 

The other day, before a friend came round, I only had time to complete one task.  I found myself thinking: I'll do the washing up rather than the ironing.  Having my washing out is a sign that I am clean - I have done my washing.  But having dirty dishes stacked up seems dirty and unclean.

 

I made my mess 'acceptable'.

 

Or if I haven't had time to tidy, I find myself apologising and telling people to forgive or ignore the mess.

 

I was challenged today by how I do this spiritually as well: I present my 'problems' in a tidy package.  I make my mess 'acceptable'.  Or I apologise for it and ask people to ignore it.

 

I was trying to think of what would be an appropriate response to someone seeing the messiness of my life - both the literal mess and the spiritual mess.

 

Asking them to ignore it or forgive it or imagine it's not there is neither possible nor helpful.  Frantically rushing around before they arrive to tidy up (or panicking over unplanned guests), leaves me exhausted and wondering if I've missed a bit.

 

Perhaps a much better response would be to say, Here is my mess, please could you help me sort it out?

 

I want to be honest about my struggles and my mess.  Because in honesty there is freedom.  And because no one can help you clear up the mess if you don't let them see it.

 

The Psalmist wrote,

 

"And me?  I'm a mess.  I'm nothing and have nothing: make something of me. You can do it; you've got what it takes."

 

[Psalm 40:17 MSG] 

 

God does have what it takes to make something of us.  But first we have to acknowledge and own our mess.  Rather than hiding it, or ignoring it and asking others to ignore it too.