Y'all know what I mean.
Every other day of the week, the embarassingly large amount of clothes that hang in my closet are completely and totally fine. They sit there on their hangers grouped by color family (Because I've got a touch of OCD and I'm not afraid to admit it. My friend Tamra will wholeheartedly agree. She understands the need for order and organization and perfectly stacked cans in the pantry. It's a little like Sleeping With The Enemy in our houses but without the rated "R" psychological thriller part. Obviously.) and appear normal. Innocent, even. They're sort of stylish, sort of cute, sort of out of date but still- they never fail me.
I've developed a deep and abiding love for my classic SAHM homeschool uniform: jeans, Tshirts, and cardigans. My stylish love language could be comprised of a headband, comfy jeans, loads of ridiculous string bracelets, funny/quirky/homemade tie dye Tshirts, all topped off with a cardigan, bare feet and toe rings. (Toe rings. I KNOW, don't judge.) If there were a capsule look that would define me in my early 30's- this would be it. I'm sure Josie is going to look back at pictures of me and be absolutely blown away by how stylish her Mom was when she was a little girl because that's exactly how I feel when I look back at my Mom's awesome perms and homemade fabric painted sweatshirts. And it's obvious where I get my incredible sense of style from. YOU DID YOU, Mom. So am I.
I said all that to say: My clothes are usually comforting. UNTIL SUNDAY ROLLS AROUND. Getting dressed for Sunday morning worship is probably one of the most stressful things I do all week. NO LIE. Then, it's as if my entire closet stages a mutiny against me. Every single thing I go to put on looks terrible and awful and makes me nauseated just looking at it. WHY DO PANTS NOT FIT ON SUNDAYS?! I will go through outfit after outfit and try different shirts with different bottoms with different hair and just about the time I'm seriously considering wearing my bathrobe to worship, I throw my hands up in surrender and hope that whichever child I'll be happening to hold on my hip will mostly cover whatever awful ensemble I've managed to put together that day.
(There's a small voice that tells me I'm being psychotic and self centered and obnoxious. But it's reeeeally hard to hear over my unnecessary whining. My husband has the patience of Job, y'all.)
I was reading through 1 Peter this morning, and I came across those verses in the third chapter that we, as women, know all too well. But today, the first part of verse four really struck a chord with me.
"...let not your adornment be merely external- braiding the hair and wearing gold jewelry, or putting on dresses; but let it be the hidden person of the heart, with the imperishable quality of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is precious in the sight of God."
-Peter, 1 Peter 3:3,4
I may feel insecure as I get dressed on Sundays. I may dislike all four (or fourteen) outfits I try on. But, when my focus turns more to my Pinterest boards than it is to my purity of heart, I'm not doing my job. I'm being sinful. Sundays are for worshipping Christ, not my cute outfit. They are for fellowshipping with my church family, not for focusing on myself. The hidden person in my heart is the one I should put my time into preparing as I get ready for worship. I need to humble myself more and look at my reflection less. If my heart is pure, then the rest of my ensemble is complete. When I get stressed and frantic and self centered on Sunday mornings, I'm taking away from the One who really deserves it. I'm putting myself up on a pedestal where He belongs.
I've made myself a goal to hang up ONE Sunday morning outfit for myself on Saturday night. It'll be an easy, tried-and-true ensemble that I know I'll be sure to like in the harsh morning light that only Sundays bring. I'll hang it up before I go to bed, find BOTH of my coordinating shoes, lay it all out together and BE DONE. Then, when Sunday morning comes, I'll drink my coffee and read my Bible and get myself dressed for worship without turning my closet info a heap of jumbled clothes that I'll have to spend 20 minutes rehanging on Sunday afternoons.
These verses may find a home on my bathroom mirror sometime soon. And when my Josie gets old enough to feel the Sunday Morning Stress for herself, I'll make her a copy too.
Be blessed today, y'all. I'm going to get dressed.
(After another cup of coffee. OF COURSE.)
Every other day of the week, the embarassingly large amount of clothes that hang in my closet are completely and totally fine. They sit there on their hangers grouped by color family (Because I've got a touch of OCD and I'm not afraid to admit it. My friend Tamra will wholeheartedly agree. She understands the need for order and organization and perfectly stacked cans in the pantry. It's a little like Sleeping With The Enemy in our houses but without the rated "R" psychological thriller part. Obviously.) and appear normal. Innocent, even. They're sort of stylish, sort of cute, sort of out of date but still- they never fail me.
I've developed a deep and abiding love for my classic SAHM homeschool uniform: jeans, Tshirts, and cardigans. My stylish love language could be comprised of a headband, comfy jeans, loads of ridiculous string bracelets, funny/quirky/homemade tie dye Tshirts, all topped off with a cardigan, bare feet and toe rings. (Toe rings. I KNOW, don't judge.) If there were a capsule look that would define me in my early 30's- this would be it. I'm sure Josie is going to look back at pictures of me and be absolutely blown away by how stylish her Mom was when she was a little girl because that's exactly how I feel when I look back at my Mom's awesome perms and homemade fabric painted sweatshirts. And it's obvious where I get my incredible sense of style from. YOU DID YOU, Mom. So am I.
I said all that to say: My clothes are usually comforting. UNTIL SUNDAY ROLLS AROUND. Getting dressed for Sunday morning worship is probably one of the most stressful things I do all week. NO LIE. Then, it's as if my entire closet stages a mutiny against me. Every single thing I go to put on looks terrible and awful and makes me nauseated just looking at it. WHY DO PANTS NOT FIT ON SUNDAYS?! I will go through outfit after outfit and try different shirts with different bottoms with different hair and just about the time I'm seriously considering wearing my bathrobe to worship, I throw my hands up in surrender and hope that whichever child I'll be happening to hold on my hip will mostly cover whatever awful ensemble I've managed to put together that day.
(There's a small voice that tells me I'm being psychotic and self centered and obnoxious. But it's reeeeally hard to hear over my unnecessary whining. My husband has the patience of Job, y'all.)
I was reading through 1 Peter this morning, and I came across those verses in the third chapter that we, as women, know all too well. But today, the first part of verse four really struck a chord with me.
"...let not your adornment be merely external- braiding the hair and wearing gold jewelry, or putting on dresses; but let it be the hidden person of the heart, with the imperishable quality of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is precious in the sight of God."
-Peter, 1 Peter 3:3,4
I may feel insecure as I get dressed on Sundays. I may dislike all four (or fourteen) outfits I try on. But, when my focus turns more to my Pinterest boards than it is to my purity of heart, I'm not doing my job. I'm being sinful. Sundays are for worshipping Christ, not my cute outfit. They are for fellowshipping with my church family, not for focusing on myself. The hidden person in my heart is the one I should put my time into preparing as I get ready for worship. I need to humble myself more and look at my reflection less. If my heart is pure, then the rest of my ensemble is complete. When I get stressed and frantic and self centered on Sunday mornings, I'm taking away from the One who really deserves it. I'm putting myself up on a pedestal where He belongs.
I've made myself a goal to hang up ONE Sunday morning outfit for myself on Saturday night. It'll be an easy, tried-and-true ensemble that I know I'll be sure to like in the harsh morning light that only Sundays bring. I'll hang it up before I go to bed, find BOTH of my coordinating shoes, lay it all out together and BE DONE. Then, when Sunday morning comes, I'll drink my coffee and read my Bible and get myself dressed for worship without turning my closet info a heap of jumbled clothes that I'll have to spend 20 minutes rehanging on Sunday afternoons.
These verses may find a home on my bathroom mirror sometime soon. And when my Josie gets old enough to feel the Sunday Morning Stress for herself, I'll make her a copy too.
Be blessed today, y'all. I'm going to get dressed.
(After another cup of coffee. OF COURSE.)
No comments:
Post a Comment
Thanks for leaving a comment! I moderate all posts, so yours will be reviewed and posted in a jiffy! Thanks again, y'all!