Embracing the Mess
October 4, 2010
by Amanda Stephens
In the two short years since I've become a mother, I've quickly learned that things don't usually go as I envision. A recent example came when I decided to try something new with my not-quite-two-year-old twins.
As a way to launch into the world of arts and crafts, I bought some crayons and a coloring book. I envisioned the boys contentedly coloring away as I sat next to them working on my computer. "Finally, a way to get stuff done while they're up!" I thought.
The next morning I excitedly transformed our kitchen table into a kid-friendly work space. I spread out a big, plastic tablecloth, patting myself on the back for thinking ahead about possible destructiveness. Then, I set up my computer and called the twins into the room.
With as much excitement as Christmas morning, I handed them each their own coloring book, complete with stickers! I sat them in their chairs and opened the new box of crayons. I took notice of every crayon lined up perfectly beside the next, proudly boasting their sharp points. I evenly distributed the crayons between the two boys, remembering that with twins, you MUST do everything the same or there will be drama. "I think this might actually work!" I thought, as I confidently sat in my chair and settled into work mode.
Only a couple minutes of solitude passed, however, before I heard the "snap." I looked up to see the finely pointed tip of a crayon spiraling onto the tabletop. When I looked up at Jason, I knew that the waxy, orange crumbs on his lips nailed him as the culprit. Before I could explain that we don't eat our crayons, I heard the "crunch" coming from Michael's side of the table. A red tip fell to the floor.
Well, that's just two down, I thought. I tried to redirect them back to the coloring, explaining that the crayons were not our morning snack. I settled back into my chair, determined to get some work done. Then, out of the corner of my eye. I saw one of the crayons sailing across the room, breaking in two as it landed on the tile floor. Several more followed. I got up to retrieve them, only to return to an empty table. Michael was in the corner coloring on the wall and Jason was proudly displaying his scribbles on the tile.
At this point, I decided to buckle them into their booster seats. Maybe this would eliminate the temptation to color the house. With a renewed feeling of hope, I once again focused them to the coloring book, pointing out the stickers and evenly re-distributing the remaining crayons. For the third time, I settled back into my chair.
Then, the fighting started. One of them had a color that the other wanted. Or, they were frustrated that they couldn't get the stickers off the page. So, every couple of minutes I found myself peeling off a sticker and then-resticking it after they weren't happy with its original spot.
The final straw came when they started pulling up the plastic tablecloth and biting it. Feeling pretty defeated and discouraged that my idea didn't pan out, I got them down and they seemed much happier to move on to something else.
Letting out a sigh, I surveyed the mess--a ripped tablecloth, scribbles on mostly everything but the pages, and crayons everywhere. I picked up the box and started stacking the half-eaten and broken crayons. It was then that I realized this arts and crafts lesson may have been more for my benefit than the twins.
How much do I long for my life to be like that new box of crayons: the order, the beauty, the flawlessness? And, there was a time, before kids, when I felt that way. Those were the days when I still put on make-up to run errands, when I knew all the details going on in my friends' lives, and when I had the energy to do more than just crash on the couch at night.
It was the gentle voice of God that I heard next. It was as if he were saying, "Embrace the mess, Amanda. Am I more pleased with the life that reflects the ‘perfection' of that new box of crayons, or are you more of my reflection with your broken pieces and disorder?"
Funny how softly the Lord can speak to us and yet how loudly it can resonate in our hearts. I fought back tears as I thanked the Lord for this sweet season and for loving me too much to leave me the way I am. I cherish being a mother to my twins. I love how my twins give me a second chance to experience this life. I love how I get a front row seat to watch another human being grow and develop. I love that I can be the one to comfort them when they're sick or scared.
And today I realized that I love my twins for the way they are changing me and for the way God is using them to mold me into a better person, mess and all.