Yesterday I went shopping. I had a precious hour to find a few things. I survived the typical, horribly-lit dressing room which prevents, by my estimation, at least another thirty percent in store sales annually. I eventually found more than I planned to purchase. More, of course, than I needed. Got home, brought my new threads up to my closet and found myself with a problem. Hangers. See, I have a rule. In order to hang up something new, I need an empty hanger - and no new hangers are allowed. With my hangers taken, something has to be donated. What ever is a girl to do. For the second time that day, it was time to start shopping.
This May, the 2014 Swaziland Mission Team will be bringing thousands of pounds of carefully chosen supplies to our Mkhombokati friends. Part of that poundage is a "new" outfit for each of the 200 kids it's our privilege to serve. Swazi-style shopping doesn't involve tags that need to be ripped off. Instead, new = gently used. And gladly, sadly, madly ... I have plenty of that. So, I shopped my closet for Nokwanda and Anita and Dora and Sihle and Zama, among others. I could just picture them, showing up at the Carepoint the day after they receive these outfits, strolling through the gates and up the Swazi-style catwalk with lowered eyes and sly smiles, clothed in their version of "new" -- and in the strength and dignity we are promised. My old becoming their new.
Doesn't that somehow sound like what I hope for my heart? That my old becomes His new? "You were taught, with regard to your former way of life, to put off your old self, which is being corrupted by its deceitful desires; to be made new in the attitude of your minds; and to put on the new self, created to be like God in true righteousness and holiness."
Sitting among empty hangers, I know I can't buy what I really want to wear. Money is of no use. I just want to get dressed in a way that pleases God.
