Giving Him My Mess

Do you see that elliptical in the garage, buried between the shelves of bins and tipped over old toddler chair? This is where I workout. 

It used to really bug me. 

Being wedged in between all of the clutter. I would look around and my mind would make a mental checklist off all I needed to do. 

Go through the bins. Declutter. At least pick up the toddler chair. Or, how about getting rid of the toddler chair? What is that there? Why do we even still have that? 

And to make matters worse, when I workout, I always have the garage door open. Ugh. People can see this hot mess of a garage. What are they thinking? Get your act together, Thompsons! 

That’s what. 

But over the past three years, I’ve learned to silence that voice. Every once in a while it rears its ugly head, but more times than not, I can push those thoughts away when they show up with all of their judgment and condemnation. 

Because do you know what? 

Great things happen on this elliptical tucked amidst the clutter in our garage.  

Here, I find peace and quiet. Here, I find a place to move my body and hopefully get into a little bit of shape. Here, I read my books, and listen to music, and maybe even a podcast or two. 

And here, I meet God. 

The other week, as I was moving my legs back and forth, trying to keep my eyes down on my book and not on the bins in front of me, I felt a strong urge to get off the elliptical and onto my knees to pray. 

Now, I don’t say this in a “Hey, look at me praying in my garage” kind of way. I don’t usually just drop to my knees and pray wherever I am. But I felt it. Strongly. It was clear. 

Get. Down. And. Pray. 

And when you feel that feeling deep down in your core, flooding your heart and mind and body and soul, you get off that elliptical and on your knees and talk to God.

Because that’s an opportunity you don’t want to miss. 

So that’s exactly what I did. With my garage door open for anyone who happened to drive by to see. I actually had one fleeting moment when I thought, “Please don’t let anyone think I’m hurt and call for help.”  

I stayed there for I don’t know how long. Talking to God. Asking for forgiveness. Realizing how far I’ve fallen in some instances. And feeling how badly I need Him with every fiber of my being. I talked to Him about my family and friends and life in general. And when I stood up, I returned to the elliptical and thanked Him for meeting me in this cluttered space. 

But really, that’s where He always meets us, right? 

It’s in the clutter. And the messy. And the disorganized. It’s in our striving and our trying. And our missteps. It’s amidst the things we wish we could get right, but keep having to turn over. It’s in the places that aren’t so pretty. It’s all of the time. In every moment. He’s always inviting us in. To talk to Him. To be with Him. To give it to Him. 

It’s in the cluttered garage. 

On my knees. 

Giving Him my mess amidst the mess.

And thanking Him for it all.

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