Put Something On

Before I stepped outside to face the world this morning, I heard a voice. 

“Time to put something on, Mindy. Make sure it looks good. Everyone is watching.”

After skimming the rack for a moment, my eyes landed first on a tailored ensemble labeled, “Public Image.” Trendy, attractive, and pleasing to everyone, this was a favorite that garnered loads of praise. But as I reached into the closet and struggled to pull it out, I was quickly reminded of its weight. The layers upon layers of stiff, heavy material were suffocating. Beads of perspiration formed on my nose as the memories flooded my mind. Wearing this outfit always left me a fraud, perspiring and laboring under “Public Image” to invoke admiration from others. Yes, it was stunning, but it was more so exhausting. I wearily strained to hang it back onto the rack.

Next to catch my attention was an outfit marked, “My Goodness.” I pulled this dress from the rack with ease and smiled. Light, airy material fell in soft wisps from the hanger, like petals on a flower or wings on a butterfly. “Just beautiful,” I thought with a sigh. Of course, this ensemble was simpler and would never induce attention like the first, but it was much more satisfying. I slipped on the dress and felt a swell of pride. But when I stepped in front of the mirror and saw my reflection, my jaw dropped. From the top of “My Goodness” to the bottom, dark stains embedded the fabric. Giant portions of the material were ripped from the seams. This was unacceptable. I had been deeply mistaken. Confused, I quickly pulled the dress from my body and allowed it to slide to the floor.

This process continued for what seemed like hours. I tried on several ensembles such as, “Ministry Service,” “Motherhood,” “Education,” and “Chasing My Dreams.” None of them suited me. They weighed me down, bore profound damage, or were five sizes too small. Defeated, I slumped down into the mountain of crumpled clothing and buried my face in my hands. That’s when I heard another voice, but this time, a whisper.

“Why are you wasting your time? You are wearing Me already.”

That’s when I remembered. I slid my hands from my eyes and glanced down at my frame. With sudden realization and delight, a giggle escaped my lips. 

“Of course!” I exclaimed, “How could I have forgotten? I’m wearing Jesus!”

Simple, clean, and tailored perfectly for me, Jesus was the only brand I needed to bear. His image would never stain, never tear, never leave me exposed, and never weigh me down. My attempts to add layers were futile. Adornments to assuage the opinions of others or to appease my self-righteousness were counterproductive, serving only to cover the perfection of Jesus.

So I shut the closet door and stepped outside to face the world, wrapped flawlessly in the folds of Jesus. 

“But put ye on the Lord Jesus Christ…”

Romans 13:14