In this
dream I need new clothes, and I have an appointment at an exclusive house of
couture. The designer himself, a distinguished, kindly gentleman with
impeccable manners and wearing a finely tailored white suit, greets me at the
door.
He
escorts me into the showroom, where the vaulted glass ceiling offers a clear
view of blue skies and snowy clouds. But my eyes are immediately drawn to the four
dresses. Each is on a dress form in its own mirrored alcove.
The
first gown is of slinky red chiffon, its many pieces practically dripping off
the form to be revealing and seductive. What would people think of me if I wore it?
Despite its obvious appeal, it is garish and even shameful, and would call too
much attention to my shortcomings.
The
second gown appears to hail from the Civil War era and could have stepped from
the pages of Godey’s Ladies’ Book. The green-and-white pin-striped
crinoline is beautifully fashioned into a fitted bodice with puffy sleeves, and
a full hoop skirt with just a hint of starched petticoat modestly peeking from
the hem. Like a refreshing spring breeze, the lilting skirt and joyful colors lift
my spirits. Yet I wonder if the corset under that fitted bodice would be too
confining for comfort.
Evoking
a completely different mood, the third dress hangs stiffly like a mourning
garment. It covers the whole body in black crepe, from its high neck to its
long skirt hiding even the shoes. The jacket has long fitted sleeves and an
endless row of tiny buttons down the front, and there is a black bonnet and
veil shrouding the face. Although I appreciate the painstaking workmanship
underlying this garment, I shy away from its stern, somber look.
But the
fourth dress immediately restores my spirits, giving me a sense of hope and
peace. Fit for a Grecian goddess, the flowing
white silk charmeuse drapes gracefully over the body, allowing freedom and movement
while preserving modesty and nobility.
“Have
you reached a decision?” the designer asks.
“They’re
all beautiful in their own way, and exquisitely made,” I reply. “I especially
like the second gown, and the fourth gown is clearly my favorite. But I’m
afraid I won’t be able to afford any of them.”
He
shook his head sadly. “Oh, no, my dear, you don’t understand. The collection is
not for sale and cannot be broken. It is a gift, but if you accept it, you must
wear all four dresses, in order.”
I awoke
with a sense of regret at a missed opportunity and began to ponder the
symbolism of the dream. The Designer’s last words to me seemed to refer to the
freely given gift of salvation, which we cannot buy with money or with good
works (Romans 11:6; 2 Timothy 1:9).
Only through faith in God’s grace (Ephesians
2:8), in His gift of His only begotten Son (John 3:16);Who paid the price in full through His shed
blood, can we receive forgiveness of our sins and eternal life with Him (Romans 3:25; Ephesians 1:7; Colossians
1:14; Revelation 1:5) .
But sometimes
we forget the process of our Christian walk during our earthly life. It begins
at the moment we repent of our sins and place our faith in the death, burial
and resurrection of Jesus Christ as the only Way to Heaven (1 Corinthians 15:1-4; John 14:6),
and it ends when we see Him in glory, either at our physical death or at the
Rapture (1 Corinthians 15 51-57; 1
Thessalonians 4: 13-17).
The
first gown, suitable for a high-class working girl, represents the need to realize
and renounce our own sinfulness. Until we admit that we are sinners, we cannot
be saved, because Jesus did not come to save the self-righteous (Luke 5:32; 19:10; Matthew 9:13;
Mark 2:17). If we place our faith in our worldly appeal and
trappings of success, we may get recognition from the world, although it will
be of the wrong kind and will never satisfy us. Only when we confess our sins (1 John 1:9) can He wash us clean
in His shed blood (1 John 1:7),
symbolized in the dream by the dripping red cloth.
The
second gown represents the joyful, uplifting experience of being born again (John 3:3-8). Green is the color
of new life, and white of His righteousness, both imparted to us as we are indwelled
by the Holy Spirit (Romans 4:22-25;
2 Corinthians 1:22). But with this joy comes a “civil war” in our
soul, as the old sin nature battles the new creation (Romans 7:14-25; 2 Corinthians 5:17; Galatians 6:15).
The tightly fitted bodice is like the breastplate of faith, love and
righteousness (Ephesians 6:14; 1
Thessalonians 5:8) with which we must guard our heart against the
desires of the flesh.
As Paul
writes, we must “die daily” to our sin nature if we are to live in the Spirit (1
Corinthians 15:31; Romans 7:1-13). The mourning attire represents our daily
death to our own desires, our separation from the world (1 Peter 1:15-16; 1
John 2:15-16), and our willingness to take up the cross of Christ and follow
Him alone (Mark 8:34;10:21; Luke 9:23).
Finally,
when He takes us home, we will wear the robe of His righteousness (Job 29:14; Isaiah
61:10), as pristine and beautiful as a wedding garment, symbolized by the
fourth gown. One day the church, or the bride of Christ (Revelation 21:9), will
forever be united with Him and in His presence eternally. Until then, we must
repent of our sins and be washed in His blood; rejoice in our salvation; and
die to all that would keep us from the fullness of life as His betrothed. May
we put on Christ and be adorned with His meek and quiet Spirit! (Romans
13:14; Galatians 3:27; 1 Peter 3:4)
© 2013 Laurie Collett
