A good fit.

Saul said to David, “Go, and the Lord be with you.” Then Saul dressed David in his own tunic. He put a coat of armor on him and a bronze helmet on his head. David fastened on his sword over the tunic and tried walking around, because he was not used to them.

“I cannot go in these,” he said to Saul, “because I am not used to them.” So he took them off.

Today I received a very, very special gift. And I don't think I can keep it.

I have a wonderful uncle who is a second-career pastor, now in retirement. I remember, in his "first life," he worked for a major corporation engaged in strip-mining in the Rocky Mountains. We would go visit him, and I remember seeing these huge trucks, so tall that this five-foot-six woman barely came up to the bottom of the rim on a tire!

And then God got hold of him. I really don't know exactly how long he was a pastor. But I know he "gave it his all."

And that is what makes it so special, that he chose to send me, a reluctant second-career "pastorette," his preaching robe.

It's a beauty! Soft, black velvet with a pair of United Methodist cross-and-flame decorations emblazoned in brilliant white on either side of the front. Just gorgeous-- and filled with the Spirit.

So when this robe arrived today, in a big box cushioned with bubble wrap, like a kid I took it out of its zipper bag, caught my breath at its beauty-- and tried it on, in front of a mirror.

My uncle is at least six feet tall. Did I mention I am but five-feet-six?

The shoulders hung low off mine. The length of the robe? It rested gently in folds on the floor as I stood in my bare feet. 

Oh, it's beautiful, all right. And it is huge on my frame.

Just as Saul sought to outfit David for his gig with Goliath by dressing him up in Saul's armor and helmet, the thought was a good one, but it just was not going to work.

I will never be six feet tall. My girlish shoulders will never be able to properly fill this robe. 

I bring my own style, my own Call to answer-- and that is okay. And I know my uncle will understand when I offer this beautiful, Spirit-filled robe to a dear Brother in Christ who is six feet tall and broad-shouldered.

Along with the robe, my uncle also sent an off-white stole, embroidered with a cross and flame.

I have not yet been ordained, so I am not allowed to wear it-- yet. But this piece I will hang on to, and wear with joy and humility when the time comes.

We are all outfitted with the same Spirit of Christ. But the way we "wear" that presence is different, one from another.

Gracious Holy One, thank you for family of flesh, and for Family of Spirit. Whatever our Call, may we pursue it-- and you-- outfitted with your love and grace, anointed in your Spirit in all we do. Amen.

Postscript: The first sermon I wrote for my Homiletics class was on David and Goliath, and this very theme of being who we are, not who someone else would have us be. Seems I am coming full circle.