Is it mine to wear? . . . Truly?
My rags are gone? The past is washed away? Sin is but a memory? Ahh, this is what it means to be clothed in white linen.
I like it. It feels clean. It feels wonderful. It feels new—NEW!! New-beginnings new. Yesterdays-are-gone new. Fresh-as-spring-rain new. And I did not have to buy it . . . or earn it . . . or beg for it. Shall I ever understand this love of His? I do not think so.
Artwork: St. Agnes in Prison by Frank Cadogan Cowper