In my dresser, I have a box of buttons, a box of buttons of all different colors and shapes and sizes. Most of them I got whenever I purchased a new shirt ... you know what I mean ... you buy a new shirt, and there's a little bag attached to the tag that has an extra button or two in case a button comes off and you lose it. But there are a few buttons in the box that are special buttons, buttons that I keep in a separate compartment in the box because I don't want them to get mixed in with the regular buttons. Those special buttons belonged to my grandmother ... collected over years and years and years, passed down to my mom and then to me. There's nothing that makes those buttons especially unique ... they aren't worth a lot of money, and some of them are plain old ugly. Granny was a mender and a darner and a stitcher, and when I look at the old buttons that were once hers, I can picture her sitting in her green recliner mending a ripped pair of pants, darning a hole in a sock, or stitching a replacement button onto a shirt. When it comes to sewing, my own skills are simple to assess ... I can sew on a button in a pinch if I have to, but I much prefer to use Super Glue to attach replacement buttons or hem pants.
I've never really had a good sense of style about clothing, as my sweet daughter would readily agree. I like what I like ... button-up, collared shirts with a soft cotton shirt underneath, jeans and my now favorite Converse tennis shoes. The only attire that is better is a pair of almost worn-out shorts and a polo shirt. I've written before about how much I don't like to dress up, so my description of my favorite outfits shouldn't surprise those of you who read my blog on a regular basis. And I know that those of you who know me are nodding your heads because you've seen what I like to wear. It seems, however, that I may be forced into relinquishing my love of button-up shirts, at least on some days. You see, one of my diabetes issues is that there are times when the dexterity in my fingers is basically nonexistent and I can't perform certain tasks very well ... tasks like buttoning the small buttons on my shirts. I don't know what I'll wear when the day arrives that I can no longer button my beloved button-up shirts, t-shirts I suppose, unless I can enlist someone at work to button me up.
Over the last year and a half, I've come to realize that I have lived a good portion of my life all buttoned up emotionally. Rarely did I cry, and if I did, I tried really hard not to let anyone see my tears. If I was hurt or angry or embarrassed or ashamed or sad, I put on my happy face and buried all those emotions deep inside. The shirt that covered my heart had to be buttoned up and neatly pressed ... I couldn't risk anyone seeing my fear or weaknesses ... I couldn't risk anyone thinking I didn't have it all together. And now ... now, there are times when I can't button my shirt. Now, I can't always hold the tears in or cover the emotions that lie just beneath the surface. Now, my weaknesses are overshadowed only by my fear. Now ... there are times when I can't button my shirt.
The more I think about it, the more I think I understand the lesson God has for me and maybe for a few of you. I think perhaps He wants my heart shirt to no longer be all buttoned up ... He wants me to know that He sees beyond my attempt to cover my emotions ... He wants me to be real, to be humble, to know with all of my being that it is when I am at my weakest, most unbuttoned place in life that He demonstrates His strength in mighty and powerful ways.
Hmmm ... maybe my heart needs more t-shirts and less buttons ... maybe it does indeed.
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