As I sorted through my closets and drawers, I discovered my
thread-bare, frazzled, brown pants that I wore for gardening, mowing, and
refinishing furniture. I pulled them from the top shelf along with my comfy pair of olive green
pants and held them close. Worn and faded, there was not much life left in either pair. Pinholes appeared around the pockets and the seams were unseemly.
I decide to give them up, unwillingly,
for two reasons.
I decide to give them up, unwillingly,
for two reasons.
1) A friend of mine saw me walking one morning in my brown
pants. It was a chilly morning—I didn’t want to go back in the house for
a stocking cap and coat, so I pulled my straw hat and an old coat from a garage hook and ventured out.
Anyway, this “friend” thought I was a homeless person until she got up close
and _____. I really don’t like drawing attention to myself—especially that kind...
2. There are several usagain bins around our town which take worn-out clothing and re-purpose. Thinking about my clothing being used as insulation, perhaps, in someone's house filled me with hope. My favorite things would not be simply thrown away; they would live on in someone's attic--keeping a family warm...
2. There are several usagain bins around our town which take worn-out clothing and re-purpose. Thinking about my clothing being used as insulation, perhaps, in someone's house filled me with hope. My favorite things would not be simply thrown away; they would live on in someone's attic--keeping a family warm...
So I placed these treasures in a plastic grocery bag and stashed them gently in my
trunk. I had separation anxiety at times when there seemed to be nothing else
to wear as they waited in the trunk to be dropped into a recycling bin. Winter
set in and the usagain containers disappeared.
This spring when preparing to paint a picket fence in our yard, I realized I had NOTHING to wear that would be okay with a paint splash or two—until I remembered what was in my trunk. I pulled out my brown pants and got out the paintbrush. There’s a nice streak of white on a knee which didn't disappear in the wash. No problem. A day later, I wore them to plant beets in the garden. The olive pants? Still in the trunk. Perhaps, there’s a use for them, too.
This spring when preparing to paint a picket fence in our yard, I realized I had NOTHING to wear that would be okay with a paint splash or two—until I remembered what was in my trunk. I pulled out my brown pants and got out the paintbrush. There’s a nice streak of white on a knee which didn't disappear in the wash. No problem. A day later, I wore them to plant beets in the garden. The olive pants? Still in the trunk. Perhaps, there’s a use for them, too.
Isn't it nice to know that God loves us and wants us no matter what we wear or how we look. He may even like our "old" things better than our "new" things.
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