Steve and I spent New Years Eve at our lake house. (It’s really a cabin on a pond but Steve hates when I say that.) The weather was decent so we spent the evening sitting by the fire sipping on wine. That’s when I noticed how awful I looked. Not because I was sick, well maybe a little because I was sick, but more so because of my choice of clothing. I had on my son’s baseball jersey, Steve’s baggy grey sweatpants, and my black and white flip-flops with multicolored fluffy socks to keep my feet warm. Not a pretty sight. (You wouldn’t catch me at a meeting, grocery store or church wearing such a thing.) That’s when a conversation ensued in my head.
How many people have ever seen me wear such an outfit? Not many.
How many people have let me see them wearing such a get up? Not many.
I realized I dress like this (at the lake house with Steve) because I don’t have to put on airs, pretense, make good first impressions, look profession or ( _____ you fill in the blank.)
My awful outfit signified I could be vulnerable.
It said there’s safety and intimacy.
Unconditonality (I know it’s not a word but it communicates.)
Times like these are a rarity in our lives aren’t they? This must be how Adam and Eve felt – in the garden – prior to sin entering. Imagine. (No really take a minute to imagine.) Imagine always feeling this sense of “ah I’m okay just as I am” with the self, others and God. No wonder they called it Paradise.
I continued to talk to myself as I sipped on red wine.
Jackie, would you wear this if Jesus where sitting here with you right now? I mean after all you would be sitting with holiness. Would your first time – face to face with Jesus – be in these clothes or would you want to wear something more presentable?
It’s not a new question. The church has been discussing issues of clothing forever. Should the minister wear a robe or a suit? Is it disrespectful to wear shorts, jeans or flip-flops? Is it more reverent to wear fancy clothes on Sunday? That’s the type of discussion I was rolling around in my head.
The conversation continued … Yeah but Jesus would see right through my fancy clothes. He knows what lurks underneath. I don’t have to look presentable for him. Or make a good first impression. Or get him to accept, like or love me. We’re intimate. I can be vulnerable with him. He loves me unconditionally.
If Jesus were sitting with me by the fire on New Years Eve I would continue to sip on wine wearing my son’s baseball jersey and my husband’s baggy sweats with flip flops and fuzzy shocks.