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God Dressed Me



God Dressed Me

I'm someone that really wants to look the part, whether its casual, the corporate look, etc... The problem is, when you've never known how to dress just the correct way for certain events, because you’ve never known anyone having to contend with this particular event, or situation. In this particular fashion. I can say it put me in a pickle.

In March and April of 1993. I was in such the pickle. And it mattered. Oh, it truly mattered. It was practically a matter of life and death. Not necessarily mine, but a possible future victims’.

I was always a conservative dresser. So, that helped. I'm certain of that. However, nothing really prepares you for this level of dressing for what I call a deadly performance. Yes, I know it mattered that much. I had to dress for the audience.

I knew to dress to show the world that not only did I mean business. Yet, also I could not be fooled, be made a fool of, nor manipulated.  Nor would I cry in public. I would lick my wounds in private till the animal was thrown in jail, for a long time.  That’s what I had to dress for.

How it all came to me, that first day I was set to testify without a jury. I decided that since I guessed the defendant wouldn’t be present. He would waive his right to be there. Not because he thought it a frivolous case. Yet, because he was guilty. I dressed in a corporate, yet with a militant edge. It would be mano e mano. That is when the defense attorney would be cross-examining me. And I’d let him know what he was up against.

This successful defense attorney was known for his hijinks and showmanship tactics. He was all in the news. And this time it had been much front page attention he’d gotten. He LOVED being in the spotlight. He WANTED to be famous, in the newspapers and all. From what I’d heard… especially, when it had come to defending certain cases in the state.

Then just weeks before I was to testify, one of my old running coach’s friends who was some kind of high-end lawyer came to me.  He told me I was going to lose and not to testify. And well, me being me. It pissed me off. So, of course then I had to testify, and I had to win. No one tells me what to do, when I know what must be done. I despise cowards, or people who believe it is not their job to do the right thing.

So, here I was the day before I was to testify for the ‘identification’ of the assailant. No jury, just the judge, stenographer, defense attorney, assistants, prosecutor, and news people in the galley, pretty much. Something told me, wear your soul on your outside. And that is how I dressed. My soul straight-forward. Not pretty. Self-righteous to the core. If only my fist could punch through your soul and crush it, well then. That was my attire.

It was hardball. As if I walked into a higher-ups office and said, “We need to fire some people. We’ll save a lot of money. Sir.” And then walk out. Knowing that they would fire some people. And I’d suggested it. I’m not cold. I’m honest and I despise people who take advantage of an employer who is being fair.  That is how I’ve operated in the corporate world. I know when to turn on the charm. I know when to appear gentle. I am low-key. I hide quite often.

So, where I got all that from. The changing gears when I had to? Weeks later testifying in front of a full courtroom jury and all, for two days. Then, I had be soft. I had to appear vulnerable. Almost wear my pain on my sleeve. Yet, this time I went sleeveless. I made certain I had that look of a helpless girl.  I let my stress and pain take me over. It would surely keep me from appearing the way I had before.

In the back room before the second day of testifying, the prosecutor warned me, “Don’t spar with him. You’ll lose.”  I smiled gently and said a soft, “Oh yeah.” Meaning, ‘Sure thing. Sorry you didn’t come from where I came from. And I’m sorry that you don’t believe in God. Because we need a miracle. And I’m just following my lead. It’s inside me, and you haven’t seen it. You haven’t seen it, because you’re like the rest of them. All EGO and not willing to except that a higher Source is dictating this whole thing right here, right now. It’s dictating practically every move I make. Why? Because I know what’s best and I’m allowing it…

Oh, in the end. I sparred just a little. And we won. The people of the state of New Jersey won. We put someone away many had thought was untouchable. But not by God. Because God dressed me.---Jody-Lynn Reicher


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