I chuckled to myself when I realized what that cold, wet nose meant: she was doing fine. A warm, dry nose would have had me stopping in my tracks to check her out, but a cold wet one kept me headed for my destination without a second thought.
Funny the things that signal to us that everything is all right. Out here in the country we lose our power so often that as we near home after a long trip I start looking at the neighbors’ houses to make sure their lights are on. Nothing worse than coming home dog-tired and finding no power and no water. The warmly lighted windows along the highway ease my mind.
Did you ever think what must have been the signal to God that things were not fine in Eden? Yes, God knew it the moment it happened, but for a moment give me a little poetic license. God looks down and what does He see? Fig leaves where there should be nothing. Even Genesis remarks on that first. She took of its fruit and ate, and she also gave some to her husband who was with her, and he ate. Then the eyes of both were opened, and they knew that they were naked and they sewed fig leaves together…
God looked at His children in their perfect home and knew that they were no longer fit to live there—those fig leaves gave them away. “Who told you you were naked?” He asked Adam, and the jig was up. I wonder if now He isn’t saddened by seeing us this way, if the very clothes we wear aren’t a constant reminder of His original intentions for us, and the sin we so willfully brought into this world. Now He sees us and sighs for what could have been.
Even worse, those very clothes that He made to cover the sign of our iniquity, have become objects of sin themselves—apparel that causes men to lust with its lascivious intent, attire that brings division to His Son’s body when the self-righteous try to legislate what is right and wrong to wear in the group worship, more or finer clothing that causes envy in others.
I wonder what God thinks when He looks down on our brimming closets, where we stand moaning that we “have nothing to wear?” Surely when He sees our clothes he must think of what it cost Him and His Son. Surely those piles of shoes remind Him of the piles of sin His children have committed.
Who would have thought that, just like those aprons of fig leaves, the dress I wore Sunday morning, and the suit my husband chose and the tie he so carefully knotted would be a sign that everything is not all right? Dressing every morning should remind us of what we have lost and the price tag attached to those clothes.
How much does that designer label matter to you now?
Do not let your adorning be external--the braiding of hair and the putting on of gold jewelry, or the clothing you wear-- but let your adorning be the hidden person of the heart with the imperishable beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which in God's sight is very precious, 1 Peter 3:3-4.