Stuck in the Mud

photo © 2008 Sarah Moody | more info (via: Wylio)
It’s winter here in WV. While I like winter way more than I like the summer (I hate being hot, like, a lot), it’s still not a favorite. It would be one thing if we got a lot of snow. Then I could sit here and write about the redemptive something or other about snow and how it covers sins and is all white and beautiful. It would be poetic and eloquent and you would weep. I’m getting misty just thinking about it.

But generally speaking, we don’t get a lot of snow. Usually some, but it turns to slush within a day or two. And then everything else turns to mud. Sticky, cold, disgusting mud. And if we’re lucky, the mud gets mixed in with the salt and cinders so it’s extra fun. Gritty, corrosive, gooey mud. It’s much harder to write a post that makes someone cry about that stuff. Unless you’re just deeply offended by mud. But those aren’t really the tears I was going for.

The thing about this mud is that it gets everywhere. It’s tracked into the house. It’s flung up all over my minivan. It’s all over the sides of my cute new boots. And no matter what I do, it’s there all winter long. Even if I manage to eliminate it for a little while, it will be back. There’s just no escaping it.

You know what else I can’t escape? God’s love.

It’s sticky. No matter where I go or what I do, it clings to my heart. I might try to scrape it off by rejecting the gift of grace, but the remnants remain.

It’s messy. Relationships are never neat or pretty and my relationship with my God is no different. Every time I think I know how things are “supposed to be” with God or with other Christians or people outside the Church, God shows me just how wrong I am. His love coats everything that we want to tidy up and messes it up.

It’s corrosive. My heart is hard. It can be stony and stubborn. But when God's love is applied, it eats away at that hardness. It might make me more vulnerable to hurt and pain, but it also allows me to experience far more joy and peace.


Sticky, messy, corrosive love. I may tear up a little bit after all.

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This is a part of the One Word at a Time Blog Carnival. You can read the other submissions and add your own here.