Dressed to Belong
“Hey, are you Um Ghalib?” His eyes were bright as he stopped me in the souq, our downtown market area, recognizing me as the mother of his friend from soccer. The boy and his friends gathered around me in the rose gold haze of a summer afternoon. My gauzy head scarf adhered to my cheeks in the heat. I told them that I was indeed Ghalib’s mother and asked if they liked playing soccer with him.
“We do!” they said, with eyes continuing to glisten as they pressed in around me. “But you need to get him something better to wear to practice.”
They spoke in earnest and I leaned down to ask their sartorial advice. They described the exact jersey and black athletic training pants, the ones with the stripe down the side. In their clear Arabic, they emphasized that the jersey must have the name of a certain soccer star written across the back. Carefully, their fingers pointed me to a shop in the souq where I could find said soccer clothes.
BELONGING IN A FOREIGN LAND
I did not waste time and, after spending the equivalent of five US dollars, my son’s own eyes shone later that evening as he tried on his new duds after practice. He belonged.
Mothering in a Middle Eastern border town through the intensity of the Syrian refugee crisis gives me a chance to be creative and resourceful as my children reach the ages where they would normally spend afternoons hitting baseballs off of a tee attended by earnest fathers. Instead of little league, my son plays soccer with sixty refugee children.
The team is headed up by a big-hearted and tough-as-nails local coach. Their teammates are solid athletes, albeit scrappy. They play soccer for hours in dusty lots and most prefer playing barefoot. My sons don’t know what a shin guard is.
Belonging looks different in this setting, but one universal truth rang clear to me that afternoon: clothing matters.
A GOD WHO DRESSES US
In all of our effort to transcend superficial indicators of the inner life, I think we often miss the many biblical references to clothing. Surely God is too deep for such things! Isn’t attention to our garments in conflict with the life we’ve been called to as disciples? Such materialistic worries can certainly take the form of idolatry, but the Bible does seem to tell us that God lovingly clothes us and that it matters how. We need to belong.
God also instructs us to clothe ourselves in his Word. In order to belong to him, he tells us what we must wear: “compassionate hearts, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience. (Col. 3:12-13 ESV). Peter’s letter also reminds us to clothe ourselves with humility (1 Pet. 5:5). Our own contribution to our daily covering involves our relationship with others and our hearts and actions toward them. We have our daily dressing orders.
Perhaps more touching to me, though, is the idea that, like a doting father, God takes the time to dress us himself. Not an ascetic in this matter, he is lavish. He clothes the proverbial woman in strength and dignity and such garments render her fearless and full of laughter (Prov. 31:25).
He adorns us in garments of salvation and robes of righteousness (Isa. 61:10). He removes ashes and heaviness in order to slip a garment of praise over our anointed heads (Isa. 61:3).
DRESSED WITH DIGNITY AND LOVE
Knowing our need for a visual and perhaps to increase our faith, Jesus explained God’s nature when it comes to clothing us (Matt. 6:25-34). In spring in the Middle East, after the numbing desert cold, the fields break out in waves of wildflower blooms. Not shy, bright coral anemones contrast with the green grasses made lush by precious desert rains. Violet wild irises open their petals, boldly revealing deeper purples inside their delicate mouths. Wild lilies wave extravagantly in the breeze.
These blooms are not meant to be hidden.
While the flowers hold the humility of their transience, they make themselves vulnerable to God’s dressing: wild and bright and delightful. Jesus explained to listeners that we, God’s children, are the same. We don humility and he takes our offering and fills the earth with a rainbow of his conspicuous love for us. It appears he is not interested in hiding his pension for beauty and creativity when it comes to dressing his loved ones. We bring humility and patience and he lavishes us, no holds barred. He is so good.
When I first moved to our dusty desert town in the Middle East, I felt shocked to discover I would need to wear a head scarf in town in order to best respect my conservative Muslim neighbors. Summer’s heat rendered me weak as I waddled around in the third trimester of my first pregnancy. It felt so hard to adjust to my gauzy head covering. Sometimes I felt angry about the religious roots and cultural patterns that added such discomfort to my days.
One day as I was walking through my neighborhood with my new son strapped to my chest, some women stopped to chat with me. Asking why I took the time to wear a head scarf though I was a foreigner, my response caught in my throat as I searched my mental file of fledgling Arabic for words like respect and faith.
It’s probably best that my Arabic floundered in that moment, as I was hot and grumpy and might have gotten myself into trouble. Instead, my mental search failed me and I blurted out the only words that would come: “Because I love you.” I caught us all off-guard that day.
DRESSED TO BELONG
A decade later, I’ve been given the precious gift of deep friendships with women like those I met on the street that day. My Arabic grew in their living rooms as I sipped their tea laced with sage. The need for wearing a head scarf has shifted a bit with cultural changes, and sometimes I leave my head uncovered.
I still wear a loose scarf in many settings as the best way to gently and wordlessly show respect for my host culture, especially in rural or conservative settings. This little act is a humble offering to my God and the people he loves.
Most striking to me now, years later, is the way God lovingly dresses me through my host culture. Bedouin friends living in a tent out east prayed quietly with me for another child over the years while my womb lay silent. This summer, we are all full of laughter at the surprise of a baby girl growing big in my belly at the age of forty.
As I visit my friends, sharing stories over tea, one scampers to a back cove in the tent and emerges carrying a little parcel. Pressing it into my arms as we prepare to leave, she whispers that the dress enclosed will cover my growing belly beautifully.
I try it on when I get home. The dress is bright royal blue and covered with gilded flowers. This long traditional garment conveys her spirit of open rejoicing made rich by a seasoned friendship. My heart is full, and I am lavishly dressed in belonging and affection, like a lily by my doting Father.
CHOOSING OUR CLOTHES
Today, what does it look like to clothe ourselves with humility and patience for those around us with all of our quirks and mistakes? How can we offer God our weakness, grumpiness, or need?
When we dress for the day in the simple garments of meekness and compassion, how might he adorn us in his lavish and loving manner, showing the world how we belong to him? Let’s not miss the chance to let him dress us today.
Kelly is a mother and nurse practitioner working for the last decade in the Middle East at a chest disease hospital focusing on the Bedouin and refugee populations. She is most energized by her family and the chance to love and know women in her unique community and by seeing God’s loving hand in simple things around her. She loves to write creatively about these things and her work can be found in a handful of articles as well as in the book Tea and Thread. She also keeps a simple journal about life in the Middle East at www.desertolives.com.