The dress looked cute. Not too conservative, not too contemporary. It was going to be the right one for my first job interview in 10 years. I was going to choose some happy, colorful summer pants and a black shirt but I thought I needed to look extra professional. After Facetiming with my husband I made the final decision on the cute dress. To make matters better, it was $10 cheaper than the sale price.
I took the dress home and my almost kindergartner thought it was a night gown. One of the old school ones that Mama Walton wore right before she said “Good night John Boy!” I told her it was a great observation, but that was my new, cute dress. I hung the dress in my closet, relieved that I was closer to getting done with that job interview.
The following morning I drank two cups of dark roast coffee with almond milk. There was no time for breakfast. I didn’t want a heavy meal to be seen under that cute interview dress. My idea of an outfit worked: low shoes, the necklace I got for under $2 at the Goodwill and bracelets that different friends gave me. I felt as if I was carrying a little piece of each friend with me as I accessorized my cute dress. Off we went. It took me a whole Podcast to get there and I was feeling excited. I proceeded to get out of the parking garage just to find out I was lost. I got back in my car after asking for directions and found the right place.
It felt good to be there. Almost as if I belonged. I proceeded to find the reception area. I saw a lot of different people there waiting to be helped. The whole place was under construction and there was an impecunious vibe about it. I know hopelessness when I see it and I pray that feeling changed once those sweet people got to the other side of that waiting room.
I made it to the receptionist who tried to find the person with whom I had the appointment. I was told to wait. After a few minutes she passed by the reception area with an opulent air about herself. She gave me the feeble hand shake, the one you give when you’re really not trying to touch someone. She looked at me up and down with a demeaning look. She glanced at the cute dress but she could not belittle me: I’m allergic to pretentiousness, mostly due to my acceptance in the Beloved.
She proceeded to explain I made an error, all with a defensive tone. I joyfully reminded her of the unanswered email and phone call from the day before. She paused, a dry apology followed. I received it with the joy of the Lord. I was looking her in the eyes and I had appreciation. She told me they had moved on to other candidates. Before she breathed again, I said “that’s what I came here to hear, thank you for your time and have a blessed day.”
I didn’t feel my cute dress on the way home. That feeling of newness and expectation stayed in that waiting room, with those people without hope. All I could feel was my heart beating underneath the cute dress and my vision opening up like never before.
I got back to my senses when a friend led me to pray and thank God for answering prayers. All I could do was agree and say Amen. I hung my dress backwards in my bathroom and I put on my t-shirt and comfortable pants. The dress still looks cute and the woman who owns it is a little bit stronger after accepting that a big No is God’s way of telling her the greater Yes He has in mind is the best way to go.