Getting Dressed with God


Brought his coat, just in case.

One of the things I love about this week is how goofy everyone looks. Taken off guard by the 80 degree weather, folks are scrambling together outfits appropriate to the day, while too busy to actually root through the attic to find their decent summer clothes. Some people don’t trust the forecast; pointing determinedly at their calendars, they remain scarf-wrapped and Ugg-shod. Others seem to be hedging their bets: wearing shorts and a wrinkly t-shirt pulled out of a back corner of the dresser, but with a sweater wrapped around their waist.

The #71 bus this morning was like a scene from “What Not to Wear,” starting with me. I grabbed a t-shirt and shorts from my drawer this morning, before heading off for a retreat day at the SSJE monastery. My 9 yr old daughter pointed at my yellow-and-red plaid Bermuda shorts and said warily, “You’re going out in that? You look terrible.” She was right, of course. But I wore them anyway. (She looked great, by the way, in a tie-died pink t-shirt and leopard-print yoga pants; just the right ensemble for taking the MCAS).

Renee Miller’s Strength for the Journey reflects on a wide variety of spiritual practices, like journaling, knitting, praying, and walking. It’s a great book. But there’s no chapter on dressing. Perhaps there should be.  After all, it’s a daily practice, and if we are called to do all things prayerfully, all things in the light of Christ, then why not dressing?

Here is my prayer for getting dressed on a surprisingly warm March 21st in the Boston area:

Giver of all time and space and life,

you knit me together in my mother’s womb

and wrap me in the embrace of your love at all times;

as I dress for the day ahead,

let me also clothe myself in your grace,

thankful for the clothes on my back,

lacking in style and charm as they may be.

As I put on my flip-flops (or crocs or teva’s, or insert ugly footwear here),

let me remember you, whose sandals John was not worthy to untie,

the touch of whose garment healed a broken heart,

the gift of whose life clothes me with hope.



About amymccreath

I'm a pastor and mother who loves to make connections between people, between ideas, and between stuff we label "sacred" and "secular." I aspire to be like a Cedar of Lebanon in the midst of the changes and chances of life, but like most folks, generally find that I can really only navigate the tumult hand in hand with others. Good coffee helps, too.
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5 Responses to Getting Dressed with God

  1. watchpray says:


  2. Alice Smith says:

    I love this !! As I was walking in to MGH for therapy this morning, what a variety of clothing there was approaching me–shorts and umbrellas, a Muslim woman swathed in beautiful fabrics, me in
    my physical therapy- ready T-shirt and pants that roll up past knees that are needful, and so much
    more that looks higgledy-piggledy. Hasn’t the weather been crazy too?
    But God doesn’t care what we wear, and aren’t most of these people to be helped or be helpers
    of all of us, which is most important. In this place of healing, we all are messengers in some way
    using smiles and voices in a chorus:Good morning,How are you, Can I help you,Don’t you look
    nice, Let me get that for you, Thank you so much.
    I thank you, God, for this beautiful weather, and for all of us who are unmindful of how we look,
    we give silent praise for “All good gifts around us….sent from heaven above.”
    Thank you, Amy, for pointing us all in this direction.

  3. Emily VA says:

    I’m jealous of your plaid shorts – with an April 6 due date, I failed to invest in maternity shorts, which seemed like a reasonable decision at the time. 🙂 Also, the prayer is lovely.

  4. bmp1275 says:

    Lisa and I took the plunge and went into the attic after dinner. I found some old cycling clothing, i.e. now way too small and as a joke put them on and surprised the kids in the living room. Lucia said “Dad, you look awful. You’re missing a zipper on your shirt.” “Uh, that’s the way it’s suppose to be.” Then she started laughing at me. But not in the ‘you’re so funny dad’ way. It’s humbling to get that kind of reaction from a near four year old. So I hope there are some cyclists at Big Sister Big Brother because 95% of the donations this year is cycling clothing. Oh, and your prayer is fantastic. Though I would add something along the lines of ‘and let my ears be deaf and eyes be blind to the disapproving masses.’

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