Words of Hope – Daily Devotional – Man Well Dressed

Read: Ephesians 4:17-24

Taught . . . to put on the new self. (vv. 21, 24)

The meaning of yesterday’s quotation, “heaven in ordinary” may not have been obvious to us, but we need have no doubts about today’s phrase “man well drest,” or “man well dressed”—what it means, what it has to do with prayer, and why it is here bracketed with that previous phrase.

“Putting on Christ” is regular New Testament language for what you actually did in becoming a Christian. So once you belong to Jesus, it’s not something you have to do again, let alone do repeatedly; it’s something you have already done. You could rightly say that the whole character of your wardrobe is now different from what it was before. So far as your witness to the world around is concerned, what you are “wearing” these days will be what you might call a uniform, showing other people what you are. But so far as your prayer life is concerned (that being the focus of these readings), what you are “wearing” these days will always be your best clothes, recognizing what a privilege it is to be meeting God and talking with him.

About that meeting, yesterday’s phrase (“heaven in ordinary”) was about how God comes to me; today’s phrase (“man well drest”) is about how I come to him. They are two ways of describing what is happening when I pray. The first consideration moved me to humble worship, this second one gives me happy confidence.

Here is the poem in its entirety:

Prayer (I)


Prayer the Church’s banquet, Angels’ age,

God’s breath in man returning to his birth,

The soul in paraphrase, heart in pilgrimage,

The Christian plummet sounding heav’n and earth;

Engine against th’ Almighty, sinner’s tower,

Reversed thunder, Christ-side-piercing spear,

The six-days-world transposing in an hour,

A kind of tune, which all things hear and fear;

Softness, and peace, and joy, and love, and bliss,

Exalted Manna, gladness of the best,

Heaven in ordinary, man well drest,

The milky way, the bird of Paradise,

Church-bells beyond the stars heard, the soul’s blood.

The land of spices; something understood.


Make me worthy of this daily privilege.

Author: Michael Wilcock



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