A couple of years ago I had a GREAT coat. Long, black leather, all the way to my ankles. I loved that coat. I looked good in that coat. You could wear that coat over your pajamas and drive your kids to school and no one would know it. It really didn’t matter what you wore – as long as you had THE COAT. You could not wear that coat without strutting just a little bit, without tossing your hair and catching a glimpse of yourself as you happened by mirrors, glass doors, pieces of aluminum foil… I wore the coat proudly – and often. I wore it to the mall, wore it dinners and parties. Why, I even wore it to church…
That’s where it happened. If I had just not been quite so eager to look COOL at church. I should have worn the plaid cardigan, or the nice warm fleece that Wed. night – but no…. No, that just wasn’t cool enough.
I walked up the isle feeling … cool. As I sat with my husband I still felt Cool… As the missionary got up to speak, I sat back against my leather coat and thought – this is cool. Everything was ultra cool, right up until the time I heard the Holy Spirit say, “I want you to give your coat to the missionary’s wife.” I shook my head to clear the obviously insane ramblings. Give away my coat? HA! Boy, that devil sure is getting good at disguising his voice…
“Give the coat to the missionary’s wife.”
But God, I began. My voice trembling… This coat makes me cool. People look at me and think, “Man, is she cool?”. This coat makes me feel good. This coat is ME…
I argued – still He prompted. This went on throughout the service. I would love to say that at the end of the service I rushed to where the woman stood, alas, it was not to be so.
My boots peeled rubber on the foyer carpet as I hit warp speed and found myself sitting in the front seat of the car. Where is my family, I thought? No time for fellowship tonight! Why… just look at the time! We have to get home! This is a school night, ya know! I mean, the inconsideration!
“Take the coat to the missionary’s wife.”
Where are those kids? Those kids know they are supposed to come straight to the car…
Hal somehow appeared in the drivers seat, the kids piling in behind. As he started the car and we began to leave the parking lot, I ever so casually mentioned… “You know, (laugh, laugh) I kind of felt, for just a moment, min you, that just maybe I was supposed to give my coat to the missionary’s wife (more nervous laughter).”
I expected (hoped) that Hal would turn to me and say, “That is an expensive coat! You can’t give that coat away.” I should have known better!
The tires squealed as he practically stood the car on its side hanging that U turn in the parking lot. The car came to a screeching halt right outside the foyer doors… “Well?” He said, looking pointedly at my cool coat.
Fine! I thought. Just great! Better be careful what you pray for! “I want a husband who is sold out to you, God” I mimicked in my most sarcastic voice, as I reached for the door handle.
I accepted my fate. As I stepped out of the door I am pretty sure I heard the funeral dirge begin to play in the background. I could have sworn I heard taps coming from the front of the sanctuary as I carried “THE COAT” toward the little lady standing by the table in the foyer. I walked forward, the COAT held before me as if I were offering gold, frankincense and Myrrh. I mentally saw myself kneeling, head bowed as I as I offered the precious garment. In actuality, I may have shouted something like … “Here! God said I had to give this to you!” as I threw the coat at the woman’s head.
I expected the flower petals to begin falling softly around me and choirs of children to begin singing HALELUJAH…. HALELUJAH. What I got instead was a very puzzled look from a little missionary lady, who appeared to be thinking… what in the world do I want with a heavy leather coat in the middle of a tropical climate?
I turned, slinking slowly away. Looking very UNCOOL. No more pajamas to school. No more cool visions in aluminum foil.
As I sulked into my room, I just could not get the coat off of my mind. I had to bring it up one more time with my Father… Whom I was not too happy with at the time.
“Fine, God. You wanted her to have the coat… she’s got the coat. I hate to tell you this, but I don’t think she wanted it.”
“Child,” He spoke very patiently, with a tinge of laughter in His voice, “that is not the point. I wanted the coat.”
“Why, God? Why did you want my favorite coat?”
“Because, child,” He spoke softly, for my ears alone, “it is time for a new one.”
Tears slid down my cheeks, as the impact of this mirror-moment hit me. I wept over this stubborn heart of mine, and repented of a nature I hadn’t known could be so selfish. As my hard heart broke, I began to pour out its contents before Him. “Oh, Father, forgive me… change me… create in me a pure heart…” As the tears began to slow and the heart began to cleanse, I turned my eyes once again to my Father.
“I really am sorry, Lord.”
“I know, Daughter.”
And the coat of a child became the mantle of a Daughter, and it slid firmly onto repentant shoulders.
2 John 1:6 And this is love: that we walk in obedience to his commands. As you have heard from the beginning, his command is that you walk in love.
Barbie Loflin 