I was talking with Jen of Unveiled Wife this morning about this miracle-journey of ours.
“It’s strange how it’s happening,” I said. “Like the most important moments are being slowed down. And He’s helping me to remember in acute detail the sights, sounds, and smells associated with each milestone. I’m so thankful.”
This weekend, I had dreams in vivid technicolor. The kind that you tell yourself while you’re in it “remember this, Jane. Take it all in. This is important.” And then wakefulness makes it all just far enough out of reach. Like a photograph that’s not quite in focus. But it was something about getting dressed.
And on Sunday morning, as I made my coffee, I felt Him kneeling down to my level. And holding out my calling the way a father holds out a toddler’s skirt. To get her dressed and ready for the first day of the rest of her life. And she holds herself steady onto her dad’s strong arms. And steps into the garment he has held out for her. The thing that has been hanging in the closet for so long. The thing that she’s finally grown into.
And I was thinking about clothing myself with His majesty. And those robes of righteousness. And how sometimes? Clothing ourselves with Him is also finally stepping into the calling He has for your life. Into that gown you’ve always dreamed of wearing. The one that’s been accidentally pinned more than once on your inspiration board and that you always come back to. And finding that when you finally put it on? It fits like a glove.
Sometimes, getting dressed in the morning is a little bit like that.