Torn Pants

I will bless them and the places surrounding my hill. I will send down showers in season; there will be showers of blessing. – Ezekiel 34:26

Everybody has something they hate to turn loose of – just got to hold on tight. For some it may be an old car or an old chair. Many of our children are attached to a blanket, a pacifier, or a special toy. The fact is, all of us have white knuckles over something.

Me. Well…..it’s this completely worn out pair of lounging pants. First of all, I love the color – they’re purple plaid, and though plaid is not my favorite, I can live with it because they’re shades of purple. Secondly, they’re way too big. Slouchy is probably the best word for them. Ooh, they are so soft and comfy that it doesn’t matter if I spend my time hiking them up around my waist. I love them.

I pulled them out of the laundry and as I folded them, I noticed a tear – a big three-inch long tear at the knee. Needless to say I was mortified. However, being a “clinger,” I folded them neatly and put them away, pulling them out regularly to wear. Each day I wore them, I noticed the hole becoming a long tear. Recently, I slipped them on and the leg became two separate pieces. I know -- it’s sad. But I love my lounge pants. They fit with that special sort of comfort.

I plopped down in the recliner, kicked up my feet and heard this distinct riipppp. “Ah man. No way.” I whined. My husband laughed then rolled his eyes. He’s been waiting for me to throw them away for sometime. I found myself pulling the edges of the tear together in an attempt to pretend they would magically meld together. To my dismay, that didn’t happen.

Grabbing my floppers, I slipped my feet in and headed out the door to get the newspaper. The wind was howling outside and the one leg of my lounge pants flapped freely like a flag on the mast of a pirate ship. My leg quickly turned cold and I tried frantically to grab the flapping material. That’s when it occurred to me. Why in heavens name do I insist on hanging on to old things that are non-repairable?

How often do we grasp hold of things from our past and cling to it as though there is no tomorrow? There are new things to sink our teeth into.

I asked the Father, as I struggled to hold my lounge pants together, “Why do we do this God?”

He laughed out loud then shook His head. “You tell me. I offer you so much more. Hope, love, peace, forgiveness, yet you insist on hanging on the one thing that causes you the most pain.”

“The pants are comfortable.”

“Yeah, right! I can tell.” He motioned the wind to blow and yank the material from my fingers. “That’s comfortable, heh?”

“Oh, now You’re just showing off.”

“No, I’m making a point. Throw away the old things that are torn and tattered and let me fill you with new things. All that ‘junk’ that hides deep in your soul – trash it.”

I suddenly felt very uncomfortable. I wasn’t sure if I could give up my purple lounge pants. But the Father was right. How comfortable are you when you’re chasing wild material?

“Okay, so I give up the lounge pants. What then?”

God stopped the wind and my leg grew warmer. “Oh. I see.” I said.

He smiled and then did the most amazing thing. He filled me with blessings. My heart danced with excitement as I felt the multitude of abundance He heaped upon me. My friends, my family, good fortune, dreams come true and all for the price of a pair of torn lounge pants. (You realize it’s really NOT about the pants!)

The Father brushed past me as I stepped onto the porch. “I want you joyous and happy. I want to bless you from the inside out. But when you are filled with old and torn items, there’s no room. You have to throw the junk away – finish the tasks you’ve begun so I can bless them.”

I took off my lounge pants when I got in the house. Wadded them into a ball and tossed them in the trash. Sure, they were comfortable, soft – what I knew best. But I liked this feeling of blessing and abundance. It was time to throw out the old. Resolve, so to speak. The new lounge pants are a little stiff, but they’ll soften with time. And they do fit much better. No more hiking them at the waist. My legs are warm. There’s real benefits to having new ones.

The Father joined me in the living room this morning. He kicked His feet up on the recliner, leaned back. “Feels good to have new hope, doesn’t it?”

“Indeed it does.”

“Fit okay?”

“Yep.”

The Father smiled. “Imagine that. And it only cost you the old. Not a bad trade, I’d think.”

“No Sir. It wasn’t. Wish I’d have thrown them away years ago.”

The moral of this story is simple. God waits for us to give our troubles and woes to Him. He wants to replace the old with the new. And when He does, He rains blessings from heaven.