A woman’s closet. . .Intimate details. . .Sorority pledge shirt (just a few sizes smaller!) pre-pregnancy clothes, post-prenancy clothes, nursing clothes, scribbled notes, dated from young hands that could barely hold a crayon. (Some of you know how I feel about coloring outside the lines of our lives. Which I do in many of these posts :)). Rehearsal dinner dress for my own wedding, bridesmaid dresses. The jacket I wore to share on a stage, the jacket I wore for that Homecoming Court football game presentation for my daughters, my own mother’s robe, the comfort flannel gowns I put own when I needed a hug, the pair of shoes I bought way out of our budget, I’ve worn only once, but I thought I was a princess. That black linen outfit that always took off ten pounds of chocolate in the mirror.The warm up suit I wore at the beach in a weekend away with a best friend. The red dress I bought, knowing I would capture my husband’s attention at a dinner out that was 2 sizes too small (Still has the tags on it. I like to think the best!). That extra measure of confidence needed for leadership that “came” in a brown JJill jacket and pants when insecurity pressed in with opportunities. Sweatshirts from every destination from Gulf Shores to Russia.
Most of it has to go. . .As the pear shape emerges, further, the ALS clinic enforces is “best for my health” and getting dressed becomes a challenge. . .The girl that stood before the mirror for a final touch, is gone. I could dissolve in tears for days, but God interrupts the grief before it begins and tells me, “I like this girl better.” I’m stubbornly quiet. Not ready to even go there. Somewhere in the bags of “goodwill clothes” is that girl, hidden. Somewhere in the back of the “new” closet are the things, I could not part with. . .Somewhere in the simple clothes hanging with comfort is a tiny glow of Glory. There is a whisper of freedom that calls me away from style, and need to impress and fit in with the women in the room. I’m sure this is good for me, as a lesson that all of us, as women need to put into practice. I just never thought it could look like this? My prayer closest calls me to a level of simplicity that is beyond the norm. . .And in that, a privilege of understanding, I did not ask, for and do not want to embrace. . .Yet, it is what it is. . .And I’ll live to grow into this “new girl of His.”
I’ll stop here as I have to leave the chapter to grow and my heart to grow. . .with the Truth. . .May you find “space in your prayer closet too?”