The guests are arriving at any moment. Fear is seeping from your pores as you turn into a panicked human tornado, tearing through the living room, the dining room, the guest bathroom.

The toilet bowl isn’t clean! The sink has dirty dishes in it! So many odds and ends out of place! Everything gets swept into the nearest room with a lockable door…

“No one must ever go there”, you think to yourself.

We’ve all been here. (If you haven’t, keep your housekeeping black magic to yourself.) The fluster, the embarrassment, the self-conscious worry at what “they” will think of our imperfect life, which is currently splayed all across our imperfect home.

It’s exhausting. It’s unsettling. But hey, that’s hosting, right? If you can’t make your living room look like something out of a 1950’s homemaking catalogue for your honored guests, you might as well not even invite them over. No one wants to see your real life, seriously. Ugh… just don’t even. Please.

Well, you know what? I have neither time, nor a rat’s derrière to give to that nonsense.

I’m fed up, and I QUIT.

I hate cleaning. I hate it to H-E-double hockey sticks. Same goes for dishes and laundry. Also dusting. Also, sweeping, mopping, tidying, organizing, wiping, vacuuming, etc., etc.

Try to imagine, for a moment, what my house must look like. Got that image in your head?

Now, imagine it a little worse than that.

Add in a sprinkling of tiny, creative, energetic humans roaring around like rabid monkeys.

What you are left with is a space that most people wouldn’t invite even their spouses into. (Thankfully, my husband is the best man alive, and we’re learning this housekeeping thing together. Sorry girls, he’s taken.) And yet… is this really a picture that NONE of you can relate to?? Surely it feels like a familiar story to someone…

Regardless, here’s the deal. My home… yes, it’s a HOME, not a sanitized restaurant or a spotless bed and breakfast, is open ALWAYS. To anyone that comes to love and be loved.

Our home is always open, because our HEARTS are open.

And they’re messy too, sometimes. Our hearts can be a little unkempt, a little wild, a little weird and a lot disorganized, but I’m going to stop apologizing for that, too.

And you know what? If a clean house is your thing, that’s fantastic! I literally ADORE clean spaces. (Judge the inconsistency all you like.)

And if messy lives and messy hearts isn’t really your thing, that’s OK, too! We’d probably better just meet at coffee shops and mostly only talk about things we’re good at.

I’m me. Plain and simple – also I’m confusing and complicated, sometimes. Full of life, and tired sometimes. Full of joy, and sad sometimes. Full of light – and sometimes a bit dark.

So are you.

And I want you to come into my mess knowing that you and your mess are welcome.

So, let’s do life and be kind and learn a lot from each other.

No more “hosting” guests in my home, and no more “hosting” friendships in the formal sitting room of my heart.

Come in. Pull up a chair that doesn’t have junk on it, and feel free to clear your own spot at the table. Just push 4 months’ worth of files that should go in the cabinet downstairs, that ancient banana peel, and the LEGO man’s amputated limb aside, and help yourself to leftovers in my fridge. But please, for your own safety, do a quick sniff-check first, and NEVER pull from the back of the shelf… you don’t know how long that’s been there… neither do I. And now, let’s talk about life – the good, the bad, the ugly, the wonder of it all…

You’re always welcome in my home and in my heart.

“He must increase, but I must decrease.”

John 3:30

John the Baptist

Try to imagine it – John’s entire life, spent in sacred isolation and mandatory self-denial in the wilderness; 30 years of waiting and preparing. 30 long, lonely years.

And then consider his ministry: so short!

How utterly forgettable in human estimation.

A few short sermons – simple ones, at that.

Absolute refusal to be elevated, though it might seem easy – even RIGHT – to expect just a little bit of honor and recognition. But, instead… after a lifetime of real suffering and saying “No” to every comfort and pleasure of earthly human experience, John quickly fulfilled his short, unglamorous calling.

After a lifetime of intense preparation – this was it?

As his ministry faded fast into obscurity, his disciples were understandably alarmed and confused. Over so quickly?! Only to be overshadowed by a newcomer already? Didn’t he – didn’t THEY – deserve more?

Yet John confessed only JOY. His response was full of confidence and peace:

“He must increase… I must decrease.”

He had completed his mission; he had lived out his calling faithfully.

His years in the desert had not been in vain.

HE, the nameless voice, had sounded like a trumpet throughout the earth!

“MAKE WAY FOR THE KING!”

John had no interest in being celebrated for his sacrifices, or applauded for his ability to fire up a crowd. He was thinking only of His beloved Lord, the Bridegroom, come to woo the bride.

He died soon after, unceremoniously, on the whim of a fool whose head didn’t deserve his crown. Instead, it was John’s noble head that was set on grisly display for the evil satisfaction of a greedy heart. How undignified. How inglorious. How unmemorable.

After all those years, all the preparation, all the sacrifices… this was it?

In modern times, the lament would surely have arisen: “What a waste of a life full of potential to shine”.

But the King – what did the glorious, eternal King of Heaven and Earth say of this sad underachiever?

“No one in history surpassed John the Baptizer.”

The King named this faceless voice, this forgotten trumpet, the greatest man in history, though he counted himself the lowest.

And oh, how worth it all it must have been when John the Sojourner arrived HOME.

Lord, let me see You as see, take notice of what You call “great”, and never underestimate the most unseen acts of obedience.

Dearest Mama,

– Whose long days fly by, an endless list of tasks unfinished:

“Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.”

– Whose tears are stolen in quiet moments, whose love goes unseen:

“Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.”

– Whose strength is spent, whose wisdom is whispered to the walls, and whose thoughts are scattered to the wind:

“Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.”

– Whose cup is forever emptied, only to be emptied again:

“Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be filled.”

– Whose heart is tender, whose love is patient, whose hope is long suffering:

“Blessed are the merciful, for they shall be shown mercy.”

– Who has laid countless pleasures aside to kneel and serve the least of these:

“Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.”

– Who spends her days sowing the seeds of peace and cultivating grace:

“Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called the sons of God.”

– Who faces the criticism of a cold world, and the rage of hell for her sacrifices:

“Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.”

You are Seen, Known, and Dearly Beloved