The following is a devotion I wrote for my church:
“It is a good thing to give thanks to the Lord, and to sing praises to your name, O Most High; to tell of your loving-kindness early in the morning, and your faithfulness in the night season; for as it was in the beginning, it is now and evermore shall be. Alleluia.”
-Psalm 92:1-2
I am facing a mirror in a clothing boutique in downtown Ann Arbor, and I am not pleased with what I see. Good or bad, it is my habit to allow the clothes I wear to guide how I feel and think about myself, and my favorite pieces are those that serve many moods and offer multiple looks.
For example, the rose-colored jersey dress that cinches at the waist that I am trying on screams, “Callie dress.” It’s sporty and would be a perfect, “I’m just here to watch Hadley play soccer” dress but paired with my sparkly gold, strappy heels and a matching necklace, it also says, well, this is a devotion for church, and I’ve just been called to be an elder. Maybe I shouldn’t say.
But the dress doesn’t fit, not even in the largest size. I am devastated. I scrutinize myself from top to bottom – my greying, stringy hair, the bags under my eyes, – when another customer walks in and I hear the saleswoman greet her, both their voices light, breezy, and with that affected teenage girl tone that, like the dress I am currently wearing, I can’t ever understand why such beauty can carry such a sting.
Madison Beer, one of Hadley’s favorite singers croons lusciously overhead. I have one of her songs on my running playlist – something about the evils of social media, it’s catchy – but I don’t understand, or, I don’t want to understand what she’s singing about now. I’m not her target audience.
This place is not for me, I realize as I very, very carefully shimmy out of the dress while ignoring the image in the mirror that resembles something of an overstuffed potato sack.
I am too old to learn about God’s faithfulness in a dress room, but standing here, it is hard not to consider all that’s been revealed as the pandemic lifts its hem. Seeing it – acknowledging what’s changed, what’s broken – begs the questions: “God, what do we do now? Where do we go from here? What do we do with all this?”
I am reading, The Divine Hours: Prayers for Summertime and in the Morning Office today, the greeting was Psalm 92:1-2. It is difficult to tell whether we are in the night season or if this is a new dawn, but no matter the wounds and doubts we carry, no matter the changes we’ve made or those we must make, God’s faithfulness and loving-kindness are steadfast and evermore.
I walked into this boutique hoping for something to show me I am strong and beautiful, but maybe it is my larger and softer parts that now need to be exposed. Maybe it is what’s been labeled as weak, as less than that now shows the mystery and grace of being wonderfully and fearfully created.
“Did you find the right size?” the saleslady asks as I step out of the dressing room.
“No,” I say. “Everything was too small.”
I walk out of the boutique thinking I’ll show Hadley this place someday, and believing a new thing is being created within me.
It’s just too large for this store.
Leave a Reply