I imagine that you probably have a very tidy purse. I envy the tidy purse people. How do they do it? How do they reach into their purse and pull out a perfectly in tact tube of lipgloss and apply it to their lips without first needing to clean the gunk out from around the lid or remove the lint and little pieces of miscellaneous dirt that have collected on a capless tube of chapstick? How do you, my friend– reach into your purse and pull out exactly what you’re looking for at the checkout counter without accidentally pulling out a random sock or week old mail or better yet a mysterious looking toy that may or may not be yours.
My wallet is another embarrassment. How do I know it is? Well, I’ve seen my sister’s. Hers is not falling apart. Her change purse zipper zips and she actually keeps change in her change purse. I’d like to consider myself a clean and organized person. In my mind’s eye, I am a dainty lady who can offer up a clean, soft tissue to my friend, from my purse, should she need to wipe a tear away. But in reality, the only thing I have to offer my friend is a half listening ear while I frantically dig around in my purse for a random tissue that I could have sworn was there.
You know, there are those once a month, once a quarter, once a year moments where you CLEAN OUT YOUR PURSE. And boy do you feel good. You promise yourself that your purse will never ever get that way again. You vow that you will never allow your children to root around in your purse and grab whatever fits their fancy. And you will definitely STOP saving receipts that you really don’t need and coupons that you’ll NEVER redeem. But only days later, you find yourself walking around with your purse tucked under your arm, hoping that no one needs anything from it, that you can open it up when no one is looking and quickly zip it up before someone sees inside.
This is me. In my Christian walk. I’m ashamed of the fact that I can’t just let others see the inside of what is going on in my life. I’d like to be open with them and show them the mess. Better yet, I’d like them to catch me on a clean purse day, so it will seem like I’ve got it all together. But it never happens that way. I feel like I’m always pulling out the wrong thing. Like I’m always digging around for the good part of me that I just knew for sure I’d thrown in there before I ran out the door to church.
Deep down inside I know I’m just the messy life lady who wishes she was something more. Someone more. More put together. More organized. More ready to assist. Maybe tomorrow will be a clean purse day. But I know for sure, I’ll have to dump it all out. Throw some stuff away and start over again.