The Theif In The Old Blue Dress
The Theif In The Old Blue Dress
I never called the police or reported the crime though I could easily recognize the face of my perpetrator in a line-up. I can still recall the hideous way she was dressed. The woman was an aid to demons and a menace to her own soul. This was the woman who robbed me on my way to church.
It was a beautiful morning in mid-May. Church activities left little time for resting on Sunday, so I took advantage of the early morning and stayed in bed a few extra minutes cuddling my husband. When I finally got up, I fixed myself a cup of coffee, ran the tub full of hot water and lavender-scented bubble bath, and settled in for a relaxing soak. I even left the lights off. Ah, I though to myself, this is going to be a good day.
When I came out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel, my husband, who was still in bed, said, “I don’t think we will make it to church this morning.”
I looked at the alarm clock on my nightstand “If you can get ready in fifteen minutes, then I can too.”
Quickly I slapped on makeup except for mascara. I decided I could do that on the way. Then I grabbed the only dress I owned that didn’t need at least a gentle caress from a warm iron. It was a perky little light-weight blue and white number with a red bow tie. It wasn't exactly a fashion statement but it would do. I was in a hurry!
My husband, daughter and I piled into our big Ford truck. As I closed the door, Rebecca looked at me and laughed. “Do you know how old that dress is?”
"Sure I do—I think. It's older than you are!"
Wait a minute! My daughter was laughing at how I looked. The triumph I felt from such a wonderful morning suddenly gave way to self-conscious defeat.
My euphoria started to wear off when the demon of trendy fashions handed me a full length visual image of myself in the old blue dress. The elastic, which used to fit snugly around the waist to make the bodice blouse a bit, had lost its life. Now the puffy part of the top was not at the waist but at the hips. The skirt tapered drastically toward the hem so my stride was shortened. Have you ever watched a woman wearing heels trying to rush to church doing the baby-step? The red bow tie drooped like a gerbera daisy plucked from a week old bouquet. The only thing perky about the dress was the oversized shoulder pads. One shouted “I love Nancy Reagan!” and the other cried “Bring back the 80s!” Even without wrinkles I was a fashion faux pas.
That’s when it happened. I was robbed. My joy was gone. What started as a blissful day, given to me as a gift from God, was now a day I wished I could forget. I couldn’t even make myself dig my mascara out of the bottom of my purse. I wanted to crawl back in my steaming tub of bubbles and drown.
It is true that Satan comes to steal, kill, and destroy. Equally true is the fact that most of the time he doesn’t have to put out much effort to accomplish his task. There was no real battle going on in the heavens that morning concerning me. There was no need, for I sat right there and handed my joy over to the father of lies, believing my outward appearance was significant. I took from myself joy and peace, the mercies of the new day.
Guilty! For certain I was guilty of the sins of pride, vanity, self-absorption, and discontent, just to name a few. There was but one thing, had I done, that would have kept me from those niggling sins. Resist. James 4:7 says, “… Resist the devil, and he will flee from you.”(NAS) In the words of Nancy Reagan, “Just say NO!”
You can be sure I have learned my lesson. I don’t worry so much about how I look when I go to church. Now when my heart is filled with joy I watch out for the liar who set me up that day. I resist him, and I am victorious! It is easier now too, I threw the dress away!