Shopping for clothes is not my happy place. The moment I walk into TJ Maxx, it’s like I’ve entered a labyrinth of clingy hangers, fluorescent lights, and racks crammed with too many options. Like they’re daring me to make a decision.
I freeze in place, my brain locking up like my laptop with too many tabs open. My pulse picks up, my breath gets shallow, and a rash starts creeping up my neck. That’s my signal. It’s time to head for the nearest bookstore.
Once I recover from the sensory overload and manage to unfreeze, my shopping strategy is simple: if it’s brightly colored and fits, it’s coming home with me. If the shoes are flat and they don’t pinch my toes? Toss them in my cart.
Thank heavens my sister, Julie, has a great sense of style, loves to shop, and isn’t afraid to tell me when my “look” needs a little freshening up. (It was a sad day when she gently suggested that my favorite blue sweater had crossed the line from “well-loved” to “well-pilled.” I didn’t even know “pilling” was a thing.)
But. Even though I’m not a fashionista, one thing I do know is this: clothes and shoes eventually wear out. Which is why this particular verse from the Good Book has always caught my attention:
“During the forty years that I led you through the desert,
your clothes did not wear out,
nor did the sandals on your feet.”
(Deuteronomy 29:5)
Forty years of wandering through the desert – dust storms, scorching heat, and no washing machines – and their clothes didn’t wear out? That’s pretty amazing.
I can’t help but see a connection here. The Israelites’ 40-year trek through the wilderness into the Promised Land? It reminds me of my own wanderings. Those seasons when I feel like I’m circling the same mountain, waiting for a breakthrough, or just trying to find my footing. I’m worn out after a couple weeks. I mean, I lose my mind if my Wi-Fi acts up for a day, so 40 years? Yeah, that’s a whole different level of wandering.
Remember when the Israelites escaped from Egypt? As the Egyptians closed in behind them, God parted the Red Sea, opening a dry path to freedom. Quite a miracle, right? But just three days later, they were already grumbling and whining. “Just let us go back to what we know.” Slavery. Oppression. Beatings.
Why? Because the unknown ahead of them felt too big. They were scared. Their imaginations ran wild with “what if’s?” and they forgot that God was right there, providing everything they needed.
Yup. Been there. Done that. Bought the t-shirt and the matching tote bag.
For 40 years God provided them with everything they needed. Food. Shelter. Protection. Blessings.
And clothes and shoes that did not wear out.
This tells me that self-sufficiency will only get us so far. Leaning on our own strength, grit, and “I’ve got this” attitude isn’t enough. We must—and can—trust God for every part of our lives. Besides, self-sufficiency is just another way of saying, “I’ll handle this, Lord,” right before we end up in the fetal position, stress-eating Oreos. Right?
Have you had moments like the Israelites? Times when you’ve seen God’s faithfulness, but he bumps up against your happy place when his timing feels off or his plan seems too risky. Your heart is restless, your spirit fidgety, and you’re not sure where to go.
That verse about clothes and sandals reminds me of the peace in Psalm 23:1 “The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not be in want.”
Repeating it so I don’t forget: I shall not be in want.
And then this truth comes to mind: “For the Lord God is our sun and our shield. He gives us grace and glory. The Lord will withhold no good thing from those who do what is right.” (Psalm 84:11)
All these years later, God is still meeting us where we are. He knows what you’re facing. He’s there, faithful and true, right in the middle of your wandering.
Clothes. Shoes.
Food. Shelter.
Peace. Hope.
We can stop wandering.
We can settle our restless hearts.
God provides.
