There is so much exploration to be done in childhood, whether it’s giving yourself that first free haircut, shifting a running vehicle out of park just for curiosity’s sake or pushing the boundaries of stylish attire, we’ve all tested a few limits.
For me, I enjoyed testing the boundaries of tasteful attire. Sometimes, this occurred accidentally, like when I got a cool looking pair of shoes in the fifth grade, sporting a rugged, boot-like quality. The shape in front was almost square, much like a boot. I looked pretty hot in them, I’m certain. However, the unusual shape was perplexing when it came time to determine the left shoe from the right one.
Not one for spending too much time in deep thought, I took a stab at it one morning and flew out the door to school. It wasn’t long before my toes began expressing disbelief and disappointment in my left/right placement, as I had clearly gotten it painfully wrong. My pride insisted that half a dozen blisters were a small price to pay to keep from acknowledging my mistake by changing the shoes in front of my friends.
This calculation turned out to be terribly awry of wisdom, as my friends noticed the shoe blunder anyway and began to laugh so hysterically that I assumed they might soon need oxygen because they clearly weren’t breathing.
You might think I would take advantage of this opportunity to switch my shoes, but you would be wrong. I was determined to seem correct, though my toes were now requesting amputation or any available form of euthanasia. I declared that my friends simply lacked the discernment to see that this latest style was meant to appear as if the left shoe was on the right foot and vice versa.
By day’s end, I crawled back home, hoping the Red Cross would meet me to administer CPR to my feet, which had completely denied knowing me at this point. Nothing an epsom-salt soaking, three layers of bandaids and a thick pair of socks couldn’t fix. You better believe those shoes soon found a new home in the far recesses of my closet as I returned to my faithful Converse All-Stars.
While I became remarkably astute at putting my shoes on correctly, other challenges arose. I once represented my beloved North Florida Junior College in an intramural table tennis tournament in Tallahassee. I was decent at the sport, with good reflexes and a competitive spirit that made up for some of my weaknesses. My greatest accolade may be that I was the first player in modern history that contracted tennis elbow from playing ping pong.
I had the honor of playing Tallahassee’s finest, a handsome young Iranian exchange student who ate at least 12 cloves of garlic for breakfast. He put so many different spins on the ball that I became too dizzy to notice that my zipper was down following my recent trip to the restroom. So, I played the entire match surrounded by about 50 adoring fans who didn’t have the courage to notify me of this unpleasant development, but one I am certain they were delightfully aware of. Thus, I managed to lose the match and my dignity simultaneously.
These wardrobe malfunctions were recollected due to my recent study in the book of Genesis, where I was reminded that God’s original plan for clothing humanity was simply His glory, no shoes or zippers required. It wasn’t until sin entered the picture that Adam and Eve headed over to the largest tree leaves they could find and took up sewing to cover their new-found nakedness, born of shame.
In discovering evil, they lost the ability to discern good. Everything they suddenly desired became contrary to the wise ways learned on those daily walks through the garden with their Father, His voice slowly fading amidst the clamor of the new-found self.
But, Father does know best, and He never forgot His purpose and delight for His favorite creation. We see it well in Luke, chapter 23, in the face of the first convert. He is a lowly, unnamed thief who beholds on the cross beside him a royal servant, come to become his substitute and a most suitable scapegoat, carrying far away everything that could ever warrant a sentence of death.
The happy thief forgets the agony of his cross, lost in the gaze of the One his new soul suddenly loves beyond measure. This Holy Savior has done a complete work in the twinkling of an eye, restoring in His nakedness, the original attire of the thief and all who would follow him. Shattered shame, encapsulated in the safe confines of blameless blood, loses all claims as the royal robe of presence is restored.
Can you see it? Jesus, winking at a returning friend, as He whispers, “See, I make all things new. Today, you will rejoin Me for a leisurely walk in Paradise, hiding no more, needing nothing, again letting Me be your everything. Welcome home!”
The restored and properly attired thief, turned prince, does indeed have a name: Us.