I am blessed and grateful to have a husband who loves me.
He met and fell in love with me knowing I was far from a fashionista. I would love to dress in fashion but I'm generally too behind the times and too cheap to look fabulous all the time. I did my best back then.
As a high school teacher, I tried to not look too frumpy and boring and amassed a sort-of fashionable work wardrobe.
Fast forward to being a part-time employee and a part-time stay at home mom to my newborn son. Read: part-time nice dresser and part-time sweatpants and t-shirts.
For the first time late last summer my husband gave me a wardrobe suggestion. Our newborn was about six weeks old and I could still only fit comfortably in maternity clothes. He said, "I'm kinda tired of seeing you in those sweat-shorts. Just go buy some new clothes". He wasn't talking about the size of clothes I was wearing, but it was clear that seeing me in the same gray or black maternity sweat shorts every day of the week was getting a little old.
I do love and respect my husband, but... I didn't buy new clothes... and I spent the following winter in sweatpants and long sleeved t-shirts. Unless I was at work, of course, but believe me: If I could garner respect from college-age students while wearing sweatpants, I would do so.
In my defense, I shower every day. If I'm sick? I shower. Tired and want to sleep in? I still get up before the kids and shower. Kids sick? Still I find a way to sneak in a shower. I'm clean, the (frumpy) clothes I'm wearing are clean, and the house is clean, so who cares if I'm fashionable, right? Also in my defense, my husband enjoys paring down to a white t-shirt and a certain pair of black sweatpants after work...
So, I'm not a great dresser. I do have a nice, new summer wardrobe that has gotten me out of sweatshorts. Today I'm going no place in particular and I'm wearing a shirt with a collar and khaki shorts. What?!?
I know that God cares about what is in my heart and what shows in my actions, not the clothes I wear. That's what I kept reminding myself on a recent Sunday night when I took the kids out for a walk still wearing my church clothes - knee-length casual skirt and casual top, sport sandals, and a pony tail. Little Lady was wearing a dress with no shoes (she was in the stroller), and she was sporting a Sumo-wrestler ponytail in her sweaty hair. Mini Me was wearing a too-small shirt drenched in sweat. We looked a sight.
But God loves me no matter what I wear... and so does my husband.
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