my new shirt

Last weekend me and the family went to the mall to do a little summer clothes shopping. We're headed to the beach in a couple of weeks so we had to get new bathing suits for growing children and mom and dad could use a little updating as well. I got a few shirts that were nice enough to preach in at our new little fellowship and at the same time night out at the beach worthy. The best thing about the whole deal was that most of the stuff was on sale. It was a win win, we got some needed new threads while at the same time saving a little coin. I was excited about my new shirt and even wore it Sunday night. I got so excited about it I wore it again Tuesday night to the baseball game and then by the end of that night I was ready to throw the shirt away like a used up paper towel. Why the sudden change of heart? Am I that fickle? I hope not. Did I develop some new found conviction concerning shirts from Old Navy? Not on this budget. Did I gain twenty pounds in two days and it no longer fits? Possibly...but no. You see what happened involved my two year old little girl. She was playing on the play ground and got whacked in the noggin and to make a long story short she ended up having to have three stitches right between her pretty little eyes. There was a good amount of blood and nothing with which to wipe it. That's where my shirt comes in. Between carrying her to the van and into the hospital lets just say my shirt got a little stained. But that shirt had never dreamed of being so used. Certainly it was just an ordinary shirt and when I put it on all I wanted was for it to make me look good. But it came to bear the marks of that which is most precious to me. When I put it on I thought looking good mattered, when I took it off it reminded me of what really matters.