In order to be irreplaceable, one must be different--Coco Chanel
It called to me from the coffe table like a Siren at sea. It was if I heard intoxicating songs about French fashion with a Parisian accent as I lifted up the most recent edition of the holy grain of fashion. Yes, it was if Jean Paul Gaultier himself lured me to sea only to die from desire. I flipped through fashion magazines and drooled over dresses that I foolishly believed were going to make me a haute couture woman who spent hundreds of thousands of dollars on garments designed to tailor-fit my waist, hips, and [not so long] legs. The magazine documented waif-like woman on the Parisian runway who stopped and did a little turn on the catwalk… and I was undone!
In that nanosecond I truly believed that if I put on that dress, I will be the envy of every woman and the desire of every man. Coco Chanel would applaud me and Christian Lacroix would nod at my fashion saavy decision to pair a vintage Valentino piece with a Balenciaga heel. I would bask in my prowess and pride and stand before the world because I had something no one else had: haute couture clothing. A one-of-kind, hand-sewn, pain-stakingly difficult garment made through the blood, sweat, and tears of a little Italian woman hunkered over a pile of priceless material and thread.
I shut the magazine and I was convicted. The one letter boldly printed on the cover stared back at me in silence as if letting me know W stood for Wanton or Wishing, but definitely not Wisdom. I’m not a fashionista, I’m not a wealthy heiress, or socialite. But I realized something profound in the glossy pages of a fashion magazine: I am a haute couture woman. I have a one-of-a-kind Savior who has tailor-fit to my soul and has pain-stakingly created a piece of art through blood (Matthew 26:28), sweat (Luke 22:43), and tears (John 11:35). By the avant-garde holes in His wrists and pierced side, He has designed a robe of righteousness for me that no one else could create for me. Yes, I love adorning the exterior, but more importantly than any robe I can put on, is the fact that the Creator of the Universe lives inside of me. Therefore I am and heiress; an heiress to the kingdom of God (James 2:5).
Today I will walk down the catwalk of Life sharing my haute couture relationship with my Savior. And if I’m feeling up to it, I may just do a little turn on the catwalk. Why not?
Trackbacks/Pingbacks