I am in mourning.
I feel as if my heart is breaking. I’m hesitant to give the details because it may give you the idea that I am very superficial; that I’m a materialistic person. I can’t deny it. I am mourning the loss of my summer wardrobe.
Sound funny to you? It’s been a very serious week for me. Each day has brought to mind a new shirt that I am leaving behind.
Last week, the weather finally rose to a high enough temperature that I was motivated enough to get out my summer clothes. I keep tank tops in my dresser all year long because they make layers in the winter. It was finally time to get out the pretty shirts. You know the one too pretty to hide under another shirt.
Much to my chagrin the clothes went missing. I believe sometime in the winter they were accidentally donated to Goodwill. We periodically make trips there after a thorough cleaning of the house, and I am afraid a bag of my summer things was taken away. I can only pray they were a blessing to the person who received them.
This has been really hard to get over. I feel like my pretty life is crumbling apart. I didn't realize so much of my identity was wrapped up in my clothes. I've been short with my kids, easily angered, and battling gloominess all because of some articles of clothing? Doesn't this seem a little pathetic? That's what I keep telling myself, which only seems to make it worse. My pity party gets more pitiful.
To add more fuel to my fire, I broke a chair today. Not purposely, of course, but it broke all the same. It was one that had undergone repair recently and apparently still wasn't up to the task of holding me. Life sometimes has a way of sinking. I know none of these things really matter in the grand scheme of life, but tell that to my sensitive feelings. I tried to fix the chair, only to have it splinter apart more giving me a swollen finger.
To top that off, my youngest is throwing up. We're supposed to be making gourmet food for my husband, an early celebration of what a great father he is, and my youngest won't stop throwing up. It seems like trouble comes in pairs.
I am grieving. Ever have one of those days? Or weeks?
Luckily, I have a God big enough to put back the pieces of my brokenness. No matter how minor it is, God majors on my minors. He cares about everything.
"God cares for you, so turn all your worries over to him." 1 Peter 5:7
I take great comfort in the fact that it doesn't say that we won't ever worry about things, or be upset, it says when we do (because we most certainly will) we need to turn all of it over to Him. He's the one who should bare that burden. Not us. God is the one in charge of keeping me clothed and fed. God is in charge of my summer wardrobe.
There is a great sense of peace in knowing that we don't have to worry about such things; knowing that God wants to shoulder our problems. It releases us to really live our life.