The Deep Ugliness and Beauty Inside

It’s done. I’ve finished moving. Moving, but not unpacking. The end there may never be seen.  It’s been a tiring and daunting thing to pack up and move, but I have done something even more daring than just any plain ol’ move. I have moved in with my in-laws.

It’s done. I’ve finished moving. Moving, but not unpacking. The end there may never be seen.  It’s been a tiring and daunting thing to pack up and move, but I have done something even more daring than just any plain ol’ move. I have moved in with my in-laws.

The jokes about in-laws abound, especially that poor abused mother-in-law. I’ve never understood why she gets such a bad rap. I enjoy my in-laws immensely and think the whole in-laws thing can be rather delightful, but moving into someone else’s house, when almost all the spaces to put stuff already have stuff in them, is not so delightful at all.

And with my in-laws, there are cultural and language barriers that I keep bumping into because they are Cambodian and I’m not. For example, I’d like to put some stuff in the kitchen, but the cabinets are all pretty full. The problem is that I really need to put some stuff in the kitchen because I don’t recognize or know how to use a lot of what is currently sitting next to the stove. Spices and sauces abound that I’ve never seen before. It’s not that I have a problem with things being different, but I do love a good plate of pasta every once in awhile, and in my opinion, spaghetti and fish sauce aren’t best friends.

But I must confess, there’s a bigger problem that I keep bumping into—my selfish self. I’ve often thought of myself as easy-going, laid-back, definitely not materialistic. But when the materials I am used to having need to be kept in the garage, and then those boxes of materials keep getting moved around willy-nilly, I find that I am not the lovely person I so often see smiling at me in the mirror. I can keep a gracious attitude on the outside, but on the inside, quite a few sins rear up their ugly little heads.

It’s hard to come face-to-face with the reality that we aren’t who we thought. My thoughts run the gamut lately: Who is this person? Me? No. This isn’t the person I am, right? This person is not so nice, and I am definitely nice. I have to be nice. Who could love someone like this? Not me.

The sinking in your heart, the disappointment in yourself, and somewhere in the midst, the eternal voice of God reminding you that you are always loved. Isn’t that how it always goes? We see a bit deeper into what’s really in us, and then we are allowed to see that God’s unfathomable love goes deeper than all that.

Thank God for a God that loves us so. Thank God He knows us better, loves us more than anyone else, and takes us to the ugly places to show us a beauty that we didn’t know existed. And thank God for in-laws, the stuff that already surrounds us, and the stuff that can’t be unpacked.

And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the saints, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge—that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God. (Ephesians 3:17-19)