All Dressed Up ~

by Kathy Douglass

I walk through a park every morning on my way to work. It gives me a few moments to breathe in some fresh air, smell the lilac blossoms or kick at the leaves, and watch the squirrels skitter up the tree trunks before I hang my coat on my cubicle wall. The park is just across the street from the courthouse, so people-watching is also available, no extra charge, all day long.

A few mornings ago, a scene in the park caught my attention: a young woman, dressed in a white wedding gown, with the veil pulled back over her head, sat alone on a wooden park bench, her eyes pooling with tears as she held a bouquet of red roses limply across her lap.

It’s not unusual to see a bride in the park; weddings take place at the courthouse every day, simple ceremonies, as well as more elaborate rites. It just seemed out of place to see a bride, alone and sad, at 8 o’clock in the morning. Her body language, her expression told me that there was a story unfolding. Her face was downcast, her shoulders were bowed. As I approached and then walked past her, she looked up and off into the distance once or twice as her fingers absently traced the rose petals in her lap.

I walked as far as the crossing signal, then turned and looked back. A few women, braver than I, approached her as she slumped on the bench. I wasn’t close enough to hear their exchange, but as they bent toward her, as they leaned in with expressions of kindness and concern on their faces, I imagined them asking, “are you alright dear?” “Do you need some help?” “Are you waiting for someone?” “Shall we wait with you?”

The young bride slowly shook her head in response, one of the strangers touched her gently on the shoulder, and they walked away.

I’ve wondered since that morning about that scene in the park. That young woman seemed to share her park bench with the pain of disappointment, the fear of humiliation, the ache of wondering and waiting, the anxiousness of uncertainty.

I wonder how often we feel just like her… all dressed up and nowhere to go. Ready to be the bride, but no bridegroom in sight. Weary of waiting. Bracing for disappointment. Turning the page in our own story to find a twist of character or plot or setting that we didn’t want or anticipate.

It can be difficult in those moments to do anything but look off into the distance and absently trace what feels like a limp hold on our hopes.

When we come to these moments, we have to face a truth that is never far off: the way things unfold sometimes is simply not what we had in mind, not how we thought it would look, not what we had hoped for.

Joel 2:21-27

The word of the Lord that came to Joel:

O children of Zion, be glad and rejoice in the LORD your God;

For he has given the early rain for your vindication,

He has poured down for you abundant rain,

The early and the later rain, as before.

The threshing floors shall be full of grain; the vats shall overflow with wine and oil.

I will repay you for the years that the swarming locust has eaten,

The hopper, the destroyer, and the cutter, my great army, which I sent against you.

You shall eat in plenty and be satisfied, and praise the name of the LORD your God,

Who has dealt wondrously with you. And my people shall never again be put to shame. You shall know that I am in the midst of Israel, and that I, the LORD, am your God and there is no other. And my people shall never again be put to shame.

When I read the prophets, so much of what I read is beyond my understanding. I believe that context matters, and while I am interested in the interpretations of people who are wiser than I am, I just have to keep searching the Scriptures for the same thing I’ve always searched for: a glimpse of God's heart. Just as sheep begin to recognize the voice of their Shepherd, I believe that the Beloved begin to recognize the heart of their Lover.

When I read this passage from Joel, the glimpse I get of God’s heart is that it understands that we have, at times, felt jilted, disappointed, ashamed. I glimpse a heart that feels the losses we have felt, cares about the moments, the days, the years that seem, on the surface, to have been wasted. I glimpse a heart that knows the pangs we have endured, the hunger, the thirst, the want.

And I glimpse a heart that is set to make things right one day, a heart that will bring plenty where there was want, overflow where there was scarcity, and gladness where there was despair.

I don't know why that young bride was in tears on that park bench. I only know that there was something about the scene that resonated with familiarity. We wait and we wonder. We hope and we hang on. We brace ourselves for a twist in our own story.

God is greater than the reasons we sit alone with tears pooling in our eyes. “He is the Lord our God, who deals wondrously with us”, as He spoke to Joel. He will make us glad, He will. He will come to us now, He will come for us then, just as He promised He would.

We’ll be dressed in white, as a Bride adorned for her Bridegroom, and we will have somewhere to go.

When He cometh, when He cometh to make up His jewels,

All His jewels, precious jewels, His loved and His own.

Like the stars of the morning, His brightness adorning,

They shall shine in their beauty, bright gems for His crown

He will gather, He will gather the gems for His kingdom,

All the pure ones, all the bright ones, His loved and His own.

Like the stars of the morning, His brightness adorning,

They shall shine in their beauty, bright gems for His crown. (William O. Cushing)