The Perfect PJs

One of the best pairs of pajamas I ever owned was a set of off-brand red flannel ones that I paid $12 for at Walmart … red flannel with white pinstripes, white buttons and padded footies attached to the end of each leg of the PJ bottoms. And yes, I was an adult when I got them; in fact, I was married with children and it was my first winter in Kansas City, the first winter in my life to see and experience so much snow and bitterly cold weather. Almost as soon as I put those flannel pajamas on for the first time, I knew I had made a wise purchase that I would never regret. And I wore those red, pinstriped, flannel PJs until they were threadbare and had holes on the undersides of the padded feet. Those were awesome pajamas indeed, but they weren’t the perfect pajamas. The sleeves were too long, so I had to roll them up a few turns to keep them from covering my hands. Since I’m short, I also had to turn the tops of the pants down a little so that the footies would stay on my feet. One of the buttonholes was somewhat off-kilter, making it difficult to squeeze the button through it. But … in spite of those things that some might have termed imperfections or faults, I still loved my red, pinstriped, flannel PJs.

A rather unusual side effect of my diabetes involves clothing … yes, clothing. I don’t ever remember having issues with the texture of clothes, but I sure do now. I first began to notice my aversion to certain fabrics only a few months after I was diagnosed in 2009. It’s a really weird thing … there isn’t any rhyme or reason or logical basis for my fabric/texture issues. I’ve gone from being able to purchase any shirt or pair of jeans from any rack in any store to having to try on every single piece of clothing so that I can determine whether or not it’s going to feel “right” against my skin. Now lest some of you think that my texture problem in combination with some of my other odd fears or phobias means I’ve officially lost my mind, allow me to assure you that according to my doctors, the whole texture thing is not that unusual for folks who have diabetes, especially those who are diagnosed with the disease later in life. Blood sugar fluctuations along with the medications used to treat diabetes can often create skin hypersensitivity, hence perhaps explaining why when my blood sugar gets too far out of whack, I feel as though there are bugs crawling under my skin. I tell you that to say this … it seems as though more fabric is offensive to me than that which is not, so therefore when I find clothing that feels “right,” I am a happy, happy camper.

Last fall during a shopping trip to Kohl’s, I was searching the clearance racks with the hope of finding a few bargains. I needed to buy clothes pretty often back then because I was losing so much weight so quickly that my clothes would be too big in a hurry, and I was always looking for the least expensive way to restock my wardrobe as often as I needed to. The store had some fantastic sales that day with many items up to 80% off, and I had a 15% off coupon that was good even on those heavily discounted items. After finding a few things for myself and trying them on to make sure they didn’t feel like sandpaper against my skin, I decided to check out the clearance rack on the men’s side of the store thinking perhaps I could pick up some items for my son Brad whose birthday was in a few weeks. I found him some shirts (including a most awesome Underdog t-shirt) and was about to head to the checkout when a pair of pajama shorts caught my eye. They were made by Chaps and were blue plaid with a thick string tie at the waist; they were very soft; and they were marked down from $42 to $4. My first thought was, “Who in the world would pay $42 for a pair of pajama shorts?” and my next thought was, “I’m buying these and if Brad doesn’t like them, perhaps Matt will.” I mean, come on ... they were $42 pajama shorts for $4 ... even if the dog wore them, they were worth it just for the bargain factor alone. 

When I got home, I put the t-shirts in a drawer in the office and the PJ shorts in a drawer in my room ... I'm not sure why I didn't put all of the items in the same spot, but for some reason, I didn't. When Brad's birthday rolled around, I gave him the shirts but never thought once about the pajama shorts. In fact, I didn't think about the shorts again until earlier this summer when I was looking for a swimsuit and saw them in the drawer. The moment my fingers brushed across the fabric of the shorts as I went to lift them out, I thought, "This material is so soft ... maybe I should see if they fit me and just sleep in them myself." I tossed them on my bed until I was ready to turn in for the night and then put them on along with my favorite sleeping t-shirt. Oh my gosh, friends ... I instantly understood why a person would pay $42 for those PJ shorts. They are perfect in every way ... the perfect length, the perfect size, the perfect material. Suffice it to say that I've slept in them every single night since, washing them a couple of times each week, of course. And a week or so ago when I was at Kohl's to buy some new socks, you can't imagine how ecstatic I was when I was walking from the women's sock section to the shoe department and saw a whole rack of pajama shorts of the same brand and material on sale for $10 ... not as great of a bargain as my first purchase, but I gladly paid the $10 to have another pair of the absolutely perfect PJs and was delighted to throw them in the washing machine when I got home so that I could sleep in them that night.

When I got home from work last Friday, the first thing I did was put on my PJ shorts. And other than having to put on real clothes to go to the grocery store over the weekend, I wore those pajama shorts and my favorite t-shirt the entire time. When I woke up this morning, my first thought was, "Oh, man, not only do I have to leave the house today, I have to take off my PJ shorts." And as I stepped into the shower, I was struck by a revelation ... for as perfect as my current pajama shorts are, I can't say that I will ever love them more than I did my old, red flannel PJs. The perfect PJ shorts feel good against my hypersensitive skin, but the imperfect flannel pajamas felt good against my soul. As I drove into work, I couldn't help but think about the way God loves me ... He didn't send His Son to die for me because I was perfect ... He sent Him to die for me because I wasn't. He doesn't love me because I'm the perfect fit or made from the perfect material ... He loves me because I'm not. He doesn't command me to love others because they do or say the perfect thing ... He commands me to love them because they don't.

The perfect PJs ... the perfect love ... the perfect God.