Does anybody else forget what clothes they have as each new season begins?
I’m always pleasantly surprised when the weather changes and I open my spare closet and see the clothes waiting for me that I stored away. Perhaps it is my aging brain, but I forget about the jackets and sweaters that I put up over the summer.
I think of it as a perk for getting older and forgetful – ‘Oh look, a new jacket!’ It feels like Christmas.
This happened recently on one of our first cool days when I pulled out the white Columbia fleece jacket that I had bought on sale a few years ago. It was a special gift from God.
I still remember that Wednesday afternoon in April when I had taken a stroll through the Dalton Kohl’s to see what was marked down. I came across the soft fleece jacket and decided it would be good for cool spring days. I also picked up a warm pair of sweatpants on sale.
I put my purchases in the trunk of the car and went to church. Although I’m not usually in the choir, our minister of music was bringing back Celebrate Life, the musical that was cutting edge when it came out in the 1970’s. I had performed it several times as a teenager and the words are part of my psyche. (Here is a blog I wrote about that experience.)
Choir practice had just begun when my phone buzzed. It was our neighbor Kevin, who rarely texts me. Could I please come home quickly? He had spotted Keith on the ground outside our house and he and some of his guys were there.
I rushed home and found Keith in pain, sitting unsteadily on the old rocking chair that the men had pulled down from the porch. They were able to get him into my car, and I headed to the hospital. In the ER, it was determined that he had broken the bone right below his hip and would need surgery. Suddenly my normal Wednesday had turned upside down, and I was spending the night in the hospital.
If you have been in this situation, you know the anxiety it brings. I was worried about Keith, who was hurting and disoriented, and trying to absorb all of the information from the doctors and nurses who were coming in and out. I was on the phone with our son and with concerned friends and family, all who I knew were praying for us.
As things finally calmed down, I tried to relax on the recliner in the cold hospital room, still wearing the jeans and shirt I had put on that morning. Suddenly I remembered the bag still in the trunk of my car out in the parking lot – the sweatpants and white fleece jacket. I ran down and got them and was soon much more comfortable, snuggled in the soft jacket.
Small comforts mean so much in a hospital room, and I was so thankful for the warm clothes. I felt like God had led me to buy them, knowing that I was going to need them before the day was over. As I tried to get some rest, that snug fleece felt like He was enfolding me in His arms, like a father with a child.
Two and a half years later, those feelings come back as I slip into the warmth of the jacket. I am reminded of the fear and worry of that night, but also the sense of peace and calm I experienced when I put it on in that stark hospital room.
As much as we know in our hearts and minds that God is with us when we are struggling, there are times when we need to feel His physical presence. Sometimes that comes from a hug, a call, or a bowl of soup.
And sometimes it comes from a soft fleece jacket that comforts us in the night.
