Love to Keep me Warm

   I sat in my parka in the rain, hands shoved into my pocket with a ripped corner, watching my eldest son’s soccer game today and the thought hit me not for the first time that I should probably get a new jacket.  This one is patched and (as the pocket corner would suggest) needs more patching, but it is such a perfect jacket in so many ways. Let me explain….

  January 2005- I was living in Portland, OR dancing with OBT school.  We were just about to conclude our 26 some Nutcracker performances with much exhaustion and blistering of feet. I had just handed over the family heirloom Coast Guard jacket that had been sent to Oregon with me, along with the cell phone my parents had paid for, and the keys to the car my family had let me take up to Portland… All of that is a tip of the iceberg of a bigger story that I’d love to share but I don’t want to distract from the jacket story, merely set it up well…. Suffice it to say I was in this diminished position due to my own foolishness and rebellion.  Winter in P-town is a wet and rather chilly time.  There is usually at least one ice storm (I remember the one from that year as I slid down the hill from my apartment street toward the direction of the studio).  There can be a snow dusting or two.  I was living hand-to-mouth off of my Starbuck’s salary and the thought of buying a winter coat felt out of reach but I had received a GAP gift card from a grandmother for Christmas, so to the mall I went.  And there it was! On the sale rack, in my size, and not far beyond the $50 gift card I had in hand.  (I marveled at this as I browsed the internet today looking for a replacement- comparable jackets I’m finding are at least $200). Now here’s the thing that hits me about the story today, especially as I consider the cigarette burn hole I patched later that year and think of all of the other rebellions both mild and extreme this coat kept me warm through… God knew about the person he was clothing and providing for.  He was not ignorant of the condition of my heart.  He wasn’t unaware of the doubts and anger and depression and rebellion that were all a terrifying upheaval of confusion in my mind and heart.  And do you know what?  That jacket has been worn by me every winter since then.  In many ways I look back and see how much I’ve changed since that winter.  Back to CA, back to OR again, quit dancing, reconciled to my family, back to teaching dance, back to dancing, pregnant with my first, back to CA, married, another baby, out to WV, another baby, out to WA, another baby and still in that same jacket.  I’ve buttoned it around babies inside of me and babies strapped to the front of me.  It has kept me warm in sorrow, joy, adventure, and beyond.  It has shopped for the perfect Christmas tree with me; has watched soccer games and practices; has kept me warm as I put chains on my tires; as I watched my children play snowball fights and build snow forts.  Warmed me as I walked to clear my mind, and as I begrudgingly walked the dog in the rain, and again as I happily walked in the rain with a faithful friend or two… and all along this jacket has declared to me, weather I heard it or not, the steadfast love of God toward me; love dependent on His character and heart health, not mine.  And this is such good news because just as much as I can see change in me since that 2005 winter, I can also look back and see how I am still the same Heather.  “The sins of our days will be the sins of our lives”.  I desire to continue to conform more closely to the image of Christ each day, but suspect that closeness of approach is very different than closeness of view (C.S. Lewis described it as loosing sight of a distant mountain as you descend your peak to pursue the mountain.  If you stay where you can see the goal you will never actually get any nearer to it.  You must set your course and trust that it will remain there even when you loose sight).  Some days I don’t feel quite as certain of my course as others.  On those days it is so sweet to have things like that roughed up jacket to remind me of His love and care for me regardless of my smallness and confusion.  I can rest in His care.

  Israelites had a whole calendar full of rich reminders with stories and visuals and manual ways to enter into a reminding of God’s faithfulness.  I think by comparison a ripped up parka seems pretty absurd.  Still, for this tactile and visual learner who is one with a shepherd of a rather un-tactile, un-visual church tradition, I am thankful for the reminder I get to wear.  May it never cease to amaze me that our God pursues the rebel and traitor like me.