In My Boring Clothes

In the TV Series, The Handmaiden’s Tale (do not watch this show; I’m going to tell you everything worth remembering right here), there’s a haunting scene: A newborn is separated from her mother at birth and is raised in pristine comfort — perfect crib, luxurious linens, careful feeding — save one thing: touch. You guessed it… despite the flawless environment, the baby’s health declines.

Out of desperation, the birth mother is finally allowed near. The birth mother is instructed not to touch the baby, but just to be in the room bustling with nurses, maids, and doctors trying to save the baby from dying. Weary, the scene ends with everyone falling asleep around the baby in its bassinet.

The next morning, everyone wakes to find the birth mother and the infant sitting skin-to-skin in the corner. The baby is awake, red cheeked, and smiling. The birth mother is caressing her back and singing softly to the newborn. All is well. The baby is healed by the power of human touch.

We are not unlike our newborns, Mamas. We can have the tidy house with the newest gadgets, the organized schedule, and the curated activities but without real connection, our spirits wither. We need one another’s presence, not just in passing, but in the messy, vulnerable times to keep our nard jar full.

Trust me, I’ve been there in the trenches wondering, “Might this day just be easier if I cancelled the playdate at CfA? I. Am. So. Tired.”

Even when it feels like a Herculean effort to get out the door, our God created us for community.

A lot of times, Christ’s strength looks like showing up for each other, as Acts 2 says, in common. Messy hair, “boring” clothes, tired eyes, and flip flops.

Emily

Have more time? Text a funny selfie to a friend you miss! We’re fortunate to have technology to connect when our feet can’t get us together.

LOL! Y'all, in the first version of this post I wrote “The Handmaiden’s Tail.” Please laugh with me. It’s been updated. *facepalm