New Clothes

I love fashion. That comes as a surprise to some people after they know me. Most people wouldn't think to add that to my list of interests, a list that includes rock climbing, working out, and knowing more about several sports than the casual fan. I love the way that clothes can highlight, hide, transform, and be used as an expression of who someone is.

As I have grown up, I have come to appreciate what a fantastic tailor can do for a person and their clothes. My body type is hard to find clothes that fit right in all the correct spots. The "petite-length" (read: short people) jeans are usually still too long for my short legs, shirts are never long enough for my long torso, and I have to buy to fit my shoulders in coats and dresses, not my actual size. I love fashion, but shopping can be quite the pain. Then I started bringing my clothes to a tailor - a tuck here, a seam let out here, and taking half an inch off the bottom - who completely transformed not only my clothes, but how I felt in them. I felt like I was finally wearing clothes meant for me, not just bought for me and put on my body.

This season of Lent has been very different from others before it. In the past, Lent has proven to be a rough time in terms of learning the hard way some things that God wanted to teach me. This year I gave up listening to music in the car (as I did last year), but instead of feeling like God is  pulling out weeds deeply rooted in my heart while I'm driving, I feel this amazing sense of peace and the knowledge that I am growing closer to Him.

In chapter three of Colossians, Paul is writing to the Colossian church about the transformation that takes place once someone has put their faith in Christ and trusted in Him for their salvation. The Holy Spirit will help convict a person about what needs to be changed - cut off the lying, the idolatry, the covetousness, the slander, the impurity. Reinforce or repair seams of love, mercy, and compassion - those lines which define the garment and give it the distinct shape. Our old, dirty rags have been taken off and tossed in the trash for good. We are to have new garments!

... and have put on the new self, which is being renewed in knowledge after the image of its creator. (Colossians 3:10 ESV)

"Being renewed" is a beautiful and scary thought for me. On one hand, I know that my sanctification is on-going and active, incomplete until I am in heaven. My clothes will be waiting for me when I am finally called home. On the other hand, the tailoring process is not an easy one. It requires multiple fittings, the risk of being stuck with a pin, and patience.

Right now, I feel for the first time that I am wearing properly fitting garments. The sleeve length is good, the hem is straight, and I'm not pulling at awkwardly fitting armholes. But, as C.S. Lewis said, we are far too easily pleased. The fit that I am feeling now is just a taste of what is to come as I continue to walk with God. Now that He has allowed me to experience what His garments are like compared to the ones that I used to wear, I know that the tailoring process is not over. A lifetime of minor alterations will result in something so beautiful, I won't be able to fully appreciate it here on earth. I will be too preoccupied with the process - complaining of pin pricks, His method of tailoring, and the time that I will wait. Praise His Name that He loves me, that He loves us, enough to not give up and not accept anything less than what He has to give us.

Birds

Birds have been showing up a lot in my life recently. Not one specific bird, just birds in general. Recently I have been waking up to the birds singing outside my window, and not my alarm; there are turkey vultures and hawks that catch the winds and just hover and dive above the soccer, softball, and baseball fields; blue jays and robins sing outside my work window during the day. Then Wednesday, I read a Stuff Christians Like entry (here is the post) that really spoke to me. To quickly summarize, the passage is Leviticus 14:49-53 which talks about a purification ceremony. It involved sacrificing one bird and then dipping the live bird (and other materials) in the bowl that held the blood of the sacrificed bird. Then, the live bird was to be released.

Jon Acuff's point was that the bird that was set free, the bird that was bathed in the blood of the sacrifice, probably didn't mosey down the street and out of town. Rather, it flew out of there as fast as its little wings could cary it. Right now, God is teaching me what it looks like to be that bird, the one that was set free because of the death of the first bird. My reaction to being set free should be to stretch my wings and take to the skies, riding the winds and soaring in freedom; to fly towards the sun. For the first time in my life, I feel like I am finally having that reaction. Most of my life, I have been the bird that strolls down the street, or worse yet, the bird that has been given freedom but remains in a cage, too afraid to venture into the skies. My cage is comfortable - there's food, water, protection, and others around me. But, no matter how comfortable the cage is, at the end of the day, it is not the freedom that I have been given.

I have been a Christian for some time now, but this is the first time that I have felt this kind of freedom. I feel a lightness and joy that is so unlike anything I have experienced before that it can only be from God. I want nothing more than to continue flying towards the sun and to have others fly with me. I pray that this be the attitude of my heart when I go back to Belgium. I pray that the freedom that I have in Christ will be seen by the people that we meet and that they will want to leave their cages and soar with me. I want to take to the skies and sing the song that God has given me to sing. My song is beautiful, but it pales in comparison to the song that could be made by singing with other birds.

A bird does not sing because it has an answer. It sings because it has a song. - Chinese proverb

Lord, help me live in Your freedom so the song You have given me is heard, not in fear that keeps me silent.