It was to be the perfect outfit. The precise, flattering combination of style, comfort, and personal flair. It was on trend. It was event-appropriate. It was exactly what would have made me stand out. And it was all in my mind.
I was going to a Saturday college football game, to spend all day tailgating and all evening in the stands cheering on my favorite team. It was not my first game, nor will it be my last. But for some reason, what I would wear to this game had me consumed.
I was going to wear a vintage sweatshirt over leggings, over a black tunic, with a tied-around-the-waist flannel shirt, and Nike Free tennis shoes. I had my plan, and I was going to wear this adorable outfit if it was the last thing I did.
I ordered the sweatshirt from a seller in Oregan on Etsy on a Monday. For a Saturday. I sent the seller a pleading message to overnight the sweatshirt and I would pay whatever it took to get it in these arms. Awesome vintage team sweatshirt- check.
Black tunic… I didn’t have black, so I would have to buy one… would only have time on Friday… didn’t matter how much it cost.
Black Nike Free’s – my best friend has a pair. Text her to borrow them, only to find out that they are not in fact her style shoes, but the shoes she wears to the actual gym, so they were a no-go. I would buy a pair on Friday when I went shopping for the tunic.
Next, came the flannel shirt. No problem. I own one. It was hanging in my closet and was just the right colors. I went to gather it, and found it missing.. I was then hit with the stark revelation that I had gotten rid of it, several months ago, in an attempt to live a simpler life and as a part of trying out a capsule wardrobe.
In an attempt to live a simpler life…. here I was willing to spend 100’s of dollars on one stinking outfit. 100’s of dollars that I didn’t even have to begin with. The outfit and it’s subsequent approval and amount of Instagram likes I would received took me over. Completely swallowed me. I wasn’t focusing on reality, or the several cute outfits I already had in my closet; in all my obsession I had almost but totally forgotten about God’s promises.
The more I want out of life, the less I want of God.
The more likes, clothes, approval, compliments, impressed nods, glances, things that I want, the less I want of God.
I cannot serve two masters. Jesus knew what he was talking about in Matthew 6:24, “No one can serve two masters. Either you will hate the one and love the other, or you will be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve both God and money.”
Fill that in with whatever is plaguing your thoughts. You cannot serve both God and clothes. You cannot serve both God and social media. You cannot serve both God and approval.
I cannot serve both God and my idea of who I think everyone wants me to be.
I cannot pursue the things of God when I want more from the things of the world. God will always give me more. In fact, more than I could even think. The flowers of the field are not concerned with the way they grow, the length of their petals, the colors of their leaves, what should I? (Matt. 6:28) God has promised me more, always more.
May I pursue a simple life of less to pursue the more God has in store. Everything I store up here won’t last anyway, but God, in His goodness and perfection, is eternal.