They thrive in brokenness.
I've often wondered why I don't feel the need to have things hoity-toity and organized. I don't understand "clean house OCD." I mean, I enjoy having things in order; I just prefer taking my house from a state of chaos to a state of perfection. Trying to live in a constant state of wonderfulness is not something that makes me tick. I wish it did. I want some hoity-toity juice in my lemonade, but I can't buy any at the health-food store.
I'll admit it. I like the ups and downs of life.
I visited my grandma at the nursing home tonight. As we walked closely by an impressionistic painting, we took note of the use of a single LINE to draw the legs on the people walking in the rain. I owe much of my "slap it together and call it good" tendencies to Nanny. Some people would call this a curse, but I'm blessed by her gift. She's a painter. I've painted a thing or two. We both prefer our pictures to be looked at from afar.
I guess we're both impressionists.
But maybe "Artsy Susies" arent so bad. We all could take a step back now and then. Sometimes our lives don't seem to make a lot of sense. They're jumbled and confusing and lack focus. Looking at things right in front of our eyes sometimes gets us down. We're broken due to many experiences that we've been blessed to endure.
But with those broken and confusing lines, blotches, and smudgy areas, God goes and "pulls a Monet." He's gifted like that. I can't see it, but I know it's there.