There is something about denim that pulls me. One of my special friends says she always knows what to get me as long as it has some kind of “denim” color scheme to it. I laughed at the time, but the next time I looked in my closet – sure enough – there was a rainbow of color, but the dominate color was … you guessed it … denim blue. Lapis stones in my jewelry box, denim sweaters in my drawer, denim jacket, denim poncho, denim bedspread, denim rugs…ugh – she nailed me.
Growing up in the 50’s, denim – and especially – denim jeans were not the main fashion accessory for a little girl. I still remember being totally dumbfounded the first time I walked into a high school and saw girls wearing pants…and they weren’t even denim. That particular freedom would come to the schools a decade later.
Today was my “free” day. It was a denim blue day. No responsibilities. No scheduled activities. No one depending on me to come up with food ideas – no “be here” – or “go there” (unless we count the dogs who are very negotiable in most things except letting them on the couch and chasing ball and a million hugs) and most of all – no pressure to accomplish one tiny, itsy, bitsy thing. Definitely, a denim blues kind of day.
Back in college when I had nothing to do, I would put on my embroidered (didn’t
everyone embroider their own jeans back in the 7o’s?”) rag-tailed, patched bell-bottomed jeans, throw on a tie-dyed shirt, sit under the nearest tree while listening to the transistor radio and read or write to my heart’s content. Even though I read and wrote a lot for my classes, reading and writing was as much a part of denim days as the denim. Pen touching paper. Shades of blue denim.
I read recently that eternity is a ball of yarn that God holds in the palm of His hand. He can see it from all sides – past, present, future. God is God; He can behold it all without a problem. Humans are a little weaker in the “beholding” part, so God unravels it in a straight line so that we don’t go crazy while walking upon this tiny world that He created just for us.
I like that metaphor because it opened up so many paths of new thought that I wanted to unravel. Denim blue days are meant for introspection. So grabbing my favorite pair of denims (no longer embroidered by me or machine) but still rag-tailed (because they are my favorite) but not bad enough to earn a patch yet, threw on my softest denim shirt (the first one I bought after our house fire 5+ years ago, so it is also getting rag-tailed and frayed around the cuffs and collar) and head out to the nearest group of trees. Dogs with their ball; me with my thoughts; music on my phone; a yarn ball in my back pocket.
“…Speak unto the children of Israel, and bid them that they make them fringes in the borders of their garments throughout their generations, and that they put upon the fringe of the borders a ribband of blue: And it shall be unto you for a fringe, that ye may look upon it, and remember all the commandments of the LORD, and do them; and that ye seek not after your own heart and your own eyes, after which ye use to go a whoring: That ye may remember, and do all my commandments, and be holy unto your God. I am the LORD your God, which brought you out of the land of Egypt, to be your God: I am the LORD your God.” Num 15:38-41 KJV
God gives us denim blue days as a gift of remembrance. Denim, initially, is a tough material. From the beginning, it was designed for those who had a hard job and needed the protection. As it is worn, the material softens, stretches and shreds. I think that is why I love denim. It reflects me as I have worked on my real mission in life – that mission that we all are born with: to know Our Father. The tough outer shell that He gave to protect me in this fallen realm has softened. As I’ve toiled to see through His eyes, I have stretched in unbelievable ways, and I have a feeling that He ain’t done stretching me yet. I have become rag-tailed as well. As my faith has been pulled, twisted, lashed and nailed by the society in which we all must function, parts of me have been torn away, parts have become dirty, and parts have only threads struggling to remain attached.
Denim blues are my colors. (Thanks, Wolf, for your insight.) Denim blue days are a gift to me from My Father…a gift of remembrance…a gift to know Him a little more. 
(Google Images)
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