Waiting for Clothes

I drive oldest to school and wonder at the line of trees, stark naked, twigs bare, arms lifted to heaven.

I wonder if they feel it too, the ache for clothing.

There is a beauty to the unsheathed truth… the stripped foliage… the removal of leaves and berries and that which we measure output ~worth?~ by.

I’m like those trees, waiting for God to re-birth and re-bud and re-make and re-clothe.

And like those trees, I will not hide my starkness. I’ll not pretend to be something I’m not. I will not rush to be Spring when I am Winter yet. And I will stand tall, branches outstretched reaching in dark beauty for Heaven.

I will let Him strip me…of all our silly ideas about what beauty is. I will let Him de-leaf me…of all the worldly definitions of worth and value.

I will let Him take from me output and produce so that I can see that even without it, I stand. Grounded in Love.

I will let Him whisper that I ~ bare and unproductive ~ I, am what He is crazy about. Not what fluff I can come up with, not what I can do for Him, just me.

So as I wait for clothes, I will lift arms and rejoice in Creator who loves crazy and makes beautiful and imparts no shame.

I too, will be Winter unashamed.


2 Comments on “Waiting for Clothes”

  1. Renee says:

    Amen, beautiful post!

  2. kelly says:

    sweet simplicity. and honest. love this.

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