I woke up this morning and put on joy as a garment.
Dave and I were up and down until 4:30AM last night. We were waiting for someone who was coming over, waiting for someone who needed us. I finally fell asleep from 4:30AM to 7:30 AM and awoke groggy and selfish.
But the thing was, as much as I wanted to lay there and grovel....I couldn't. These God-words kept whispering, "a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair" (Isa. 61:3) and "the joy of the Lord is your strength." (Neh. 8:10)
And I put it on, pulled it to me and slipped into it. The joy of the Lord fit perfectly.
All the mornings, of all the days, of all the weeks, of all the months, of this summer and fall, I've sought each morning to turn my eyes to Him first thing, to spend time in His presence immediately. And this morning, when I struggled to gain perspective, He was there, reaching down the hand that I needed, putting out my garment for the day. He found me soul-naked and He dressed me.
The things that greet me today, whether it be my mother screaming into my answering machine that there's a snake in her kitchen "a real one" (as if that pitch could have been obtained through a plastic one), or a note to Santa on my desk asking for a baby because the asker has given up on asking God for one, or another close-call in my tiara, or a drama of sharpie meets Persian rug acted out by Rose, whatever comes.....
I am dressed for the occasion.