Triscuits or Wheat Thins?

I used to buy Triscuits. Now I buy Wheat Thins. If you are a mom, you may know why I switched. If you are a mom and have no idea why I would make such a drastic change, then I can tell you, you are blessed.

As soon as Ben was able to chew and swallow a single cracker, I introduced the Triscuit. Is there really a better cracker? Grainy, lots of texture, great with peanut butter or special cheeses, and flavored with the perfect amount of salt. You would have thought I was giving him his first M&M. Or his first taste of ice cream. I couldn't wait to see how he liked my very favorite cracker in the world.

Until he took that first bite. I picture it all in slow motion. I watched while his teeth came down right in the middle of the cracker. Of course his little mouth wasn't big enough to take off the entire side, and on either side of his mouth little grains of wheat rained down like sleet onto the floor. And then another bite. The same thing. Little pieces of that delicious grain flew out and covered my floor. I just stared at them. Like tiny beads from a broken necklace were those grains - all over my hardwoods. With every bite more grain, and I sat on my knees trying to catch each one in the cups of my hands.

At first, I was simply annoyed. Another mess for mommy to clean. Another time stealer. Another rag. But after the initial sigh and frustration, I knew I was sad. It was over. I realized that I didn't have the patience or time for Triscuits. They are without doubt the world's best over-the-counter cracker, but entirely too messy for real life with kids. Aren't they?

And so to this day, six years later, I still buy Wheat Thins. A creature of habit and a creature of cleanliness. But I've started thinking about it lately. What if those Triscuit grains did't get swept up immediately? What if I stepped on them barefoot while unloading the dishes? What if someone actually came over and saw that my children couldn't put an entire Triscuit into their mouth without grains falling to the floor? What if my kitchen was a mess? (Don't worry, much of the time it is.)

I think that I often try to live life as though it weren't a "mess". Instead of expecting or even embracing those grains that fall from Ben's mouth, I avoid them altogether. I deny myself simple pleasures to avoid what isn't "clean" and well-kept, and I try to keep things ordered and neat at the expense of enjoying something new. Taking it even further, sometimes I wonder if I choose friends whose lives don't appear "messy" either. Or maybe I even make choices for my children simply to avoid disorder or conflict or struggle for them and for myself? Probably. But with that, I wonder, do I miss the pleasures and joys that my children could experience? Do I miss friendships with depth, with struggle, with growth, and with joy? And isn't the messiness of one person's life often a testimony of God's grace and God's favor? I certainly want to be a part of that. And, ironically, are the floors and windows in my own heart always so swept and vacuumed?

I think oftentimes we avoid this mess at all costs. We try to clean ourselves up, and in doing so, we miss the joy that comes with repenting and returning. We miss the joy that comes in trusting. And we miss the joy of knowing that the the only "clean" One who can rescue our souls from their mess is the same One who DID rescue our souls from their mess and who counts His perfect life as our own. I already know that my God DOES see my mess. But He doesn't hold it against me. Praise God. I just seem to forget that I need Christ's life just as much as His death.


So what am I afraid of? Why do I try so hard to hide my messes? Or why try so hard not to make them?

Maybe this year, I'll invite the Triscuits over to play again. I've missed them.