Little Cabin in the Woods

There is a certain irony in the fact that last week's sermon was about modesty.  Honestly, I had no idea it was coming up in our sermon series, even though I've been thinking about it for a very long time.  I am more convinced than ever that this is a serious issue in society at large; but in the church specifically.

Lest you get the wrong impression, you should know that this is an issue that requires regular personal evaluation and application on my part.  In fact, I began scribbling notes for this blog post 2 weeks ago when I realized that I had broken my own modesty rule in my choice of church wardrobe. 

So, here's the "rule" I've come up with that applies for makeup, hairstyle, clothes, shoes, and jewelry:

If I have to think about it after I've put it on, it cannot be truly modest.

Harsh?  I don't really think so, and here's why.  Modesty isn't simply about making sure you show more clothing than skin - although that matters greatly in regards to the purity of our boys and girls - modesty is more accurately associated with humility.  Even Wikipedia says "The word is used as an antonym of boastfulness; a modest person does not draw attention to their own real or supposed accomplishments and desirable attributes."

So, you see, I'm not even talking about whether women should wear skirts or pants (something that bears thinking about and deciding for yourself).  A more helpful and broadly applicable standard is to ask if this "style choice" requires ongoing attention to yourself.

Is the shirt a bit short, such that I have to adjust it every time I stand up? Is the hairstyle going to be unsightly and distractingly messy once an affectionate husband or child touches it?   Does my sundress fall forward when I bend down to talk to a little person, or pull off my shoulder when I pick up my handbag or have an armful of groceries?  Does the skirt require assistance  to cover my upper leg when I sit down?  Do I feel self conscious because I know that I was just barely able to zip into this one? 

That first one is personally applicable, it's EXACTLY the poor choice I made a few weeks ago.    I truly couldn't settle into worship and prayer because I was worried about my shirt being all bunchy in the back.  How silly and unnecessary.

We have to be honest with ourselves and each other about this one, ladies.  Do I REALLY think anybody cares if I never have a hair out of place?  Or if my lipstick is always perfectly applied?  And as long as I'm waxing eloquent - do I really want to be the lady who leaves lipstick on little children and coffee cups?  Nope.  Not worth it.

Now, you know how I am about being misunderstood... eek!!  I am not by any means suggesting that we should all wear flour sack skirts with long sleeve tunics, unstyled hair and no makeup or jewelry.  How sad that would be.  

Beloved preacher husband hit the nail on the head last week with his third reason for practicing modesty:  We practice modesty because to do otherwise is to allow pride to rule in our hearts.    Women, we are intended to beautify our world through careful presentation of ourselves.  The important thing is that it is all for the purpose of bringing glory to God through pleasing the eye of our husbands (or fathers, for the unmarried).  We glorify God by showing that His ways and means for our pleasure and affirmation are right, and never steal the attention for ourselves.

The most beautiful women I have ever known are the ones who truly have no idea that I think of them as such.  They are so completely unaware of their appearance, like a sweet cottage in the woods that attracts passers by not by the paint job or flower beds; but by the light shining from inside that says, "Come closer - there's room for you here."

Seeking Maturity

One thing we often miss about life in Ukraine is Borscht.  Yes, really.  If that surprises you, maybe you've never had a really good one.  The most fascinating thing about it is that there is no reliable recipe, really.  Each woman seems to have her way of making it: a special ingredient or secret method.  I learned to make it myself by watching it made over and over, talking it through, understanding the differences, and perfecting it for the palate of my nestlings.

Going into last week's sermon,  K and I had some really good conversations about what it means to be an example in community.  It's hard, I'm sure you've all realized that by now in your own lives.  As we choose examples to follow, must they be without fault?  Must they be ones, whom we would emulate in every way?  If someone is an example to me, ought I seek to be a carbon copy of her?  I think not. 

I'm beginning to think that in some ways, community is like good cooking.  We share recipes, and we usually follow them.  Over time, however, I realize that maybe we prefer a bit more curry in this dish, or less pepper in another one.  Isn't that how influence should work?  We try things out and see how they fit into our individual families, lifestyles, budgets, stewardships. 

As wife to Lead Pastor, I am just figuring out the uncountable variations of influence I am wielding.  Of the people who are paying attention at all, there maybe some who assume that my behavior is somehow the standard for feminine behavior in our community, that they must do as I do and think as I think in every way - oh my, the pressure and danger therein.  Hopefully there are many who realize that I am just a regular girl in a visible position.  I am always learning, failing, faltering, and growing.  Sometimes I am trying on behaviors I think may be required of a developing conviction, only to decide that I'm not required to carry it forward.

So, what to do?  What if I never wear dresses to church? What if I only listen to hymns?  What if we don't have television in our home?  What if we stop allowing playdates? What if we start having wine with dinner each evening?  What if my kids each have a computer in their bedroom? These are just examples of the sorts of things believers can disagree about.

A few weeks ago, I covered my head during prayer in church.  I don't know how many people noticed, or what they thought if they did.  I do know that it is a habit developed in Ukraine, and still beneficial to me at times.  That particular day I was feeling so distracted and prideful in my heart, I needed a blinder... like the mother's hand on the face of a flighty toddler.  That's why I pulled the pinkish shroud around my head, somewhat thoughtlessly as regards the perception of others.

Do you see what I mean?  I want to be an ever-more-mature and godly woman.  I want to live my convictions with poise and aplomb - never compromising, always discerning; but never judging.  I long to be just one in a spiritual family of sharpening irons.  I want to read God's Word and do what it says.

Dearest Father, may you never grow weary of me.  Make my heart and ears sensitive to the sound of YOUR voice, and guard me against the slithering whispers of my Enemy.  Lord, won't you have Your way in my life, and in my community?  Grant me wisdom and discernment as I live each day under the shadow of Your wings. May I stoutly defend Your ways, and by your Spirit may I be found flexible in my maturing understanding of the same.  Amen.