A Woman's Honour: The Beauty of Modesty

Funny how you can see Christian girls walking the boardwalk with every inch of their body available for eye perusal except for a few places barely covered with a strap of fabric.  Interesting how the pictures we share on our social pages or hang on our walls state our belief that we have the right to showcase ourselves if we wish.  Ironic how our heroes tell us that the body is art and meant to be uncovered- like hello- why would you veil
the bewitching body contour, the ravishing skin shades, the enticing symmetry of movement?
Maybe this is all a trick to satisfy
us with a fading allure so that we completely miss the real essence of beauty.
Oh, the very delicate issue of modesty.  Perhaps we have heard so much about it that we no longer respect it.  Perhaps we have started to base our standards on the ones around us.  Perhaps we do not understand the true beauty of modesty and have agreed that beauty is bareness.
Growing up, I used to become upset at the way my old-fashioned parents made me dress.  It was so hard to be different.  Don't think that a sixteen year-old girl does not see the way that the other girls look at her because she is not dressed like them.  At that time, I could not see that the guardians of my life were trying to teach me principles so that I would be able to know how to keep my heart and body. 
I'm twenty-three now, my wardrobe is pretty much up to me now.  The decisions are mine.  But when I was finally old enough to make my own choices, I could not bring myself to showcase my body for public display.  Do people still look at me strangely?  Oh yes.  Are family and friends sometimes embarrassed to be seen with me?  Definitely.  Am I saving myself for my King and maybe one-day Prince Charming?  Without a doubt. 
I have heard the old argument that modesty should not matter.  It is the man's fault if he thinks inappropriate thoughts.  Well, yes, the man is responsible- according to what I read in the Bible.  Men however have been taught by today's society to lust after women on the premise of what they can gain for themselves.  To find a man who is fighting for the purity of his mind is a rare thing indeed.  I wish there were more men stepping up to the responsibility of being Knights of the Kingdom.  If our men would step up, the women would undoubtedly follow.  But let's face it, if the men are not going to do that; then we as women can show an example of how modesty is breath-taking.  Just because the world has lowered the standard does not mean that we have to accept it!
I have a nineteen year-old brother and an almost fifty
year-old father that both claim that a woman who covers herself holds a charm and mysterious beauty which is more attractive than when a woman shares everything with the world.
But back to blaming the issue of modesty all on men.  Men and women are different.  Men are attracted by sight; women by emotion. 
So if you as a young lady are falling for a man who is bringing you flowers, sending chocolates, walking on a moonlit beach with you, and taking you to the most romantic restaurants, how will you respond if he then says he is not responsible at all for your attraction towards him, it is completely your fault, you should have controlled yourself? Obviously, you would not agree with him.  I mean he was the one sending the flowers and trying to woo your affection.  However, as a young lady, you are doing the same thing when you unveil your modesty. 
Am I going to tell you the exact blueprints of modesty?  No, that's something between you and God.  You know, that is the first place to start.  If your modesty is only dependent on church or family regulations, it will be a drudgery to maintain.  But if your modesty is based on your love for a King Who is wanting the very best for you, your idea of modesty will suddenly become a freedom instead of a cage.  I love Leslie Ludy's guideline for modesty.  Cover the areas of your body that you would not feel comfortable with a man (that is not your husband) touching. 
Modesty is not just about dress though.  I have seen young ladies with wonderful external modesty, but yet they are undressed in spirit and action.  My brother once was in a group of young people when he noticed something strange.  One of the most modestly-clothed girls there was the most immodest.  She was the one that instantly drew all male attention because of her actions and spirit.    
Is the level of modesty dependant on time or location?  Why would it be?  You are still the same person, serving the same King.
I think the biggest thing to grasp is that modesty is a beautiful thing.  The more a valuable coin or gem is handled, the quicker it loses its value.  The more your body and heart is given away whether physically or through display, the quicker you sell away its worth.  Modesty is one of the key ingredients of purity.  When modesty is not a safeguard wall around the castle of purity, the castle is more likely to be chipped away, entered, and defiled.  When the King comes, I want to invite him into a castle that has been guarded, even though it cost me friends and tears and easy love.  How ashamed would I be if all I had to show Him was a crumbly ruin?  Many men may approach the bulwark that I have guarded.  They want to come and go as they please, each time taking a little bit of the castle.  But if I have the wall of modesty, they will be more quickly held back.  Only the Prince that has received the Key to my castle from the King himself and has slain his the dragons in his own life will be allowed to enter the fortress that I have guarded with all of my heart, soul, and mind.   
I embrace the fact that I can make the choice to fight for my body and to guard my purity.  When the battle of peer pressure breaks loose, I wield my sword and firmly protect the most valuable treasure the King ever gave me.  May we as young women never sacrifice our walls and castle to gawking eyes and bandits, plunderers, and swindlers who will leave us with nothing but brokenness and ashes.

The Lonely Light

It grabbed my attention. 

I was perusing the aisles of Family Dollar, looking for snacks, deodorant, and other important dorm life materials when I saw her- Lady White.  There she sat on a pitiful shelf with other discounted items.  They were the leftovers that no one wanted.  She was slender and delicate, painted a pure shade of ivory.  But she was reduced because she didn't have a lampshade.  I didn't care, a light was all that I needed.

I was at Bible school at the time, and my lamp had died.  Not even changing the light bulb, wiggling the cord, or hitting the base helped to revive its spirit.

So, I knew that God had placed Lady White on the shelf just for me.  I searched the rest of the store for lampshades, but none fit my newly acquired light.  I gave up, and walked out of the store quite happy with my find.

I took her back to my dorm and set her on my shelf.  Finally I had light for those late night studies.  I could have something to turn on when the main light went off and I needed to find my way through the dark to my bed. 

But people couldn't understand Lady White.  They laughed and commented about how incomplete and ugly she was without her lampshade.  Whoever kept a light around with no shade? 

Then someone said, "Guess what, I saw a lamp shade at a garage sale next door.  I think it would fit your light perfectly!"

I grabbed my money and started across the driveway.  There it was.  Ivory colored, pleated, and just the right size for Lady White. 

Once I put the two together, everyone then admired Lady White.  The hurtful comments stopped; for Lady White had found her partner. 

Now that I'm home, I made sure I put Lady White at a special place in my room.  Whenever I see her, I have to stop and think.

Lady White is just like every single woman.  People have a way of putting us on the reduced and leftover pile because we are "missing our partner".  Family and friends think we look awkward and incomplete.  Sometimes we get so desperate to change our singleness, that we go traipsing through the available lampshade aisle.  We are desperate for any shade- even if it clashes with our ivory hue or completely covers the beauty of our light.  We grab the easiest lampshade, but it doesn't make a perfect fit. 

I wonder if Lady White ever tried the other lampshades that I saw at Family Dollar?  I wonder if she ever considered giving away her light bulb- her most valuable possession- so that she could be a match with a lampshade that only wanted her light bulb and not truly her?

But I think that Lady White came to realize that she was truly valuable.  She glowed and brightened a room more than if she would have had a hastily-picked partner.  Everyone could see the beauty of her- shining clearly and undimmed.  She didn't pout and turn off her light because she was different from other lamps.  She did her very best where she was put, and she shone and shone and shone.

And when the perfect lampshade came her way, she accepted it as a new step in her life and not merely a completion. 

Sometimes I wish that I still had the old Lady White without the lampshade; because not every girl will find a partner.  Sometimes God has a plan for them to shine unhindered and focused solely on glorifying Him and helping others.  But then I'm reminded that neither singleness or marriage is better than the other.  We start to look at our marital/single status as what defines us instead of allowing God's beauty shining through us to define us. 

Thanks Lady White for reminding me that happiness and value isn't dependent on whether I have a lampshade or not, but on whether I am shining my very best and enjoying where God has placed me!  

Oops...did I actually spend that much time on pinterest?

It's me again.  Back to the land of blogging after a long disappearance into the realm of life.  Sometimes I feel like a princess captured from my kingdom of writing by the obnoxious dragon of work, bills, and the other drudging things associated with trying to make ends meet. 

But I admit, another thing has captured my attention and time lately - PINTEREST.  Whenever I get a spare moment, I pull out my phone and hit the app that immediately fills my mind with such interesting ideas.  There's delicious entrees, sinfully addicting desserts, mind-blowing cake creations (which I tell myself that I will one day make), adorable photo ideas, great ways to use junk, cutesy secrets for crafting a lovely home, patterns for the perfect dress, motivation for the journey of weight management and control, fun projects to keep even the wildest child entertained, sayings and quotes that inspire, uplift, or just bring a smile to the day, and well, I could go on for hours.

It really isn't a bad thing- there is no sin with cooking, being thrifty, staying encouraged, and getting healthier.... but I had to stop and think.

What if I cut my time online and started actually using my pins to benefit others instead of spending countless hours collecting more that never become reality?

What if I made those enchiladas for the family tonight?  What if I baked a delicious dessert for the church potluck?  What if I made a cake for a cousin's birthday party?  What if I did some photo shoots with a friend just for the fun of it?  What if I focused more on filling my home with joy and happiness instead of worrying so much about the decorations?  What if I valued and spent as much time on my internal beauty as I do on my external?  What if I exercised instead of reading about it?  What if I babysat for the neighbors so they could have the night off?  What if I put those great quotes into action? 

Basically, it comes down to living in the present and not in some make-believe world of pinterest.  It comes down to not letting the internet take priority over my family, not letting hobbies take precedence over relationships with friends, not letting my dates with God be pushed off because I don't have time for Him after spending it all up on other interests.

Am I condemning anyone?  Nope, only myself.  Am I going to pronounce the internet, pinterest, facebook, twitter, linkedin, google+, and whatever else there may be as wrong and ban them from my life?  No, but I need to be careful with how much those things control me.  I am proud that I am not addicted to alcohol and drugs, but I need to remember that there are other addictions that can take time, money, and relationships away from me. 

When I am an old woman and look back on my life, I will only then realize how precious time with God, family, and friends actually is.  Things like pinterest will come and go, but the children whose tears I wiped, the single mother for whom I made meals, the people that I introduced to the Heavenly Father, the ones that I invested into with prayers, sweat, hard work, love, and tears will have left me with smiles and memories and an internal satisfaction that nothing else can bring! 


 

Past and Present, Far and Near

  I finally am getting organized!  Don't laugh.  I'm serious.  Those of you that have seen my desk, sock drawer, and receipt folder don't believe me, I know.  But that's okay; I will prove to the world that MarJanita LaRosa is an organized person (well, at least for a few days anyways). 
  The first item of business was my recipes.  That doesn't sound scary; but in actuality, it is very traumatizing.  I happen to be one of those people who tear good recipes out of magazines and then just let them lay in a disheveled pile on top of my countless recipe books.  Of course, there are quite a few recipe cards gotten from friends and family that are tossed in that heap as well. 
  Then, whenever I need a certain recipe, I dump the whole thing on the floor and rummage through it till, with quite a bit of luck and searching, I find it! 
  Well, that has come to an end.  I took all those loose cards and am currently transferring them to a recipe scrapbook thing that I got for a couple bucks at Ollies.  I also took all those ugly torn pages and copied them onto recipe cards.  Then, to make matters even more complicated, I went through my mother's recipes to find the ones that I really like so I could write them down too.  Let's just say that my right hand doesn't feel the best from all that pen and paper time.  But, I now feel so much better.  I can find my recipes.  And my room doesn't look quite as bad as it did. 
  Of course, I can't forget to tell you about what else I did.  I bought a "Fix It and Don't Forget It Cook Journal" by Phyllis Pellman Good (by the way, I got it for 20% off because I got it over a sale time- who says that being organized is expensive?!); and then went through my cookbooks and wrote down the page numbers of the recipes that I use so I can always keep track of where the good ones are.  Hmm...maybe I should get commission off of each cook journal that sells because of me bragging it up so much!   
  Now, there is one more feat that faces me.  One that would make a dragon slayer look like a coward.  I want to take my Grandmother's recipes and then create a recipe book that can be used and treasured by my aunts and mother.  That however, will be a long and tedious task; and probably will not be accomplished for quite a while.  However, it is always good to have a goal, right?
  I enjoy relating with my readers; so if you have a favorite recipe, I would love to have you share it with the other readers and me.  Just write it on this post.  Doesn't matter if it's a recipe from the 1700's or 2013.  I don't care if it is good ole' Dutch cooking or an ethnic, cultural dish.  It is so much fun to look through a personal collection and see tried and true recipes from friends far and near, past and present.  Of course, I will gladly then respond back to each one that writes with one of my recipes.  Sort of like a chain letter effect- kind of. 
Anyways, hope you have a wonderful day; and don't forget to grab an apron and get cooking.   

Thriftiness, Weakness, and I'm always Right

Isn't it interesting how everyone has a certain area of thriftiness and a certain area of financial temptation?  But- what's even more interesting is how people can vary so much from each other in these areas.

Let me give an example:

My mother absolutely forbids using a dishwasher and dryer.  All dishes are done the old-fashioned way (for those who are so engrossed in the technology of 2013 and may not understand what old-fashioned dish washing means, it is best described by one grabbing a dishcloth, filling a sink with soapy water, and then cleansing away grotesque and unsightly food remnants from the dishes by hand!).  The dryer is also a forbidden luxury.  All clothes, including washclothes, towels, socks, and underwear are hung up to dry.  Summertime laundry is hung up outside, and wintertime laundry is trudged downstairs to the warm basement where it becomes a criss-crossing maze.  If you have ever watched Laurel and Hardy when they join the French Foreign Legion and are made to do the camp's laundry- that is a great picture of how our basement looks.  Okay, that might be stretching it a littllleeee bit.  However, although she is very conscious about saving on such things, her weak spot is on buying sale items even if we don't need them.  It is incredibly hard for her to pass up a good deal- especially if it would make a great gift for someone!  We have quite a few items on hand for just the right gift for just the right person!

My father will not approve of buying equipment new, unless you absolutely have to.  You can use silicon, duct tape, (and whatever else man has created to hold and repair broken items) to fix and make it like brand new.  He also has a struggle to take a vacation and not do something during that time to try and make a little bit of income.  Weak spot- good food and restaurants.  His idea is that there is no reason in the world why you wouldn't save money elsewhere instead of cutting back on the quality of food.  Yes, I love mealtimes around our place.

Of course, I need to make myself vulnerable and tattle on my areas of thriftiness and weakness.  I save money by shopping at Goodwill.  I see no point in spending money on new clothing when there is all kinds of used shirts, sweaters, and skirts just waiting for me to come along, wash them up, and make them look like new.  Another tight spot is on technology- who cares if my computer isn't an Apple, or if I use a mp3 player instead of an Ipod?  Aah- but, ouch, I can spend without thinking on education and books.  My money can be soaked up on the classic literature and arts in a split second.

Some people save money on food, sports, cars, gift giving....yes, the list could go on for quite a ways. 
I remember the first time I heard that some people don't include meat in every meal because of expense (and, no, they weren't vegans).  I just couldn't quite fathom that; for I was raised on ole' home cooking.  The philosophy my great-grandmother, grandmother, and mother held to was that each dinner should include a meat, vegetable, and potato (or pasta or rice).  Then there are others I know that run their vehicles for years and years and years, until it falls apart under them.  Some people save their money on gift giving.  You remember the aunt who never gave a Christmas gift and just sat there while everyone else was buzzing around and handing out their items that they had purchased or made for each other? 

Is there anything wrong with thriftiness?  No, as Christians we are actually called to be wise stewards.  Can thriftiness be wrong?  Yes, when we start to care more about our money than God's commands on giving and sharing.  

But what's the purpose of this post?  The purpose is to say that we are a problem.  That's the plain and simple truth of it.  We tend to criticize others on their areas of thriftiness or weakness.  We make fun of one person for saving money by hand-delivering cards instead of mailing them, while pointing fingers at another for going to Australia on an expensive honeymoon.  Meanwhile, we save money by washing empty sour cream containers, but spend money to buy a Jaguar as our work car. 

Point is- we are all humans still being crafted by a patient God.  Don't judge because someone thinks and budgets differently than you.  It is so easy to do though because, of course, we are always right.  Right?  Nah, unfortunately, we are not always right- especially me.  Sometimes we need to overlook the things that drive us crazy about some one's financial habits, learn from some one's stewardship or sharing, and remember that we are all different and unique!

The Fairytale of "Prince If Only"

  There once was a Prince named "If Only".  He had spent his entire life in the castle, and only went out on business occasions.  Every day, he would look out his window to the world below and dream of being part of it.  He saw the fun clothes they wore, and looked down at his own royal apparel.  He was so tired of his spotless robes.  He was tired of being marked as different because of the princely garments he wore, the drinks he had to abstain from, and the purity to which he was upheld.  He disgustingly threw his crown onto his bed and whispered, "If only I wasn't a Prince!" 
 
He would constantly ask his parents why he had to be so different.  The King and Queen would reply, "Son, you have been born into a royal family.  We have given you the best of tutors to train you in all that you need to know to live as a Prince, and we have fed you and clothed you with the most fitting of food and garments so that people can know who you are.  You feel different than everyone else because you are different.  You have a special calling- one that requires you to live to a higher standard.  Sometimes your calling is lonely, but it is worth it.  Don't keep longing for a different life.  It is not as glamorous as it appears."
 
The Prince would listen with his ears, but the words never reached his heart.  He had heard the mocking words of the townspeople ("reclusive, mamma's baby, coward, scaredy-cat")...and those terms stung too deeply for him to heed any wisdom from his parents.
 
At ten o'clock each evening, the town would come alive with flickering candles, fires, and lanterns.  Delicious aromas would waft up from the parties and into the lonely room to tickle the prince's nose.  Laughter, jesting, music, and dancing would play in his ears.  Scenes of lovers and romance would delight his eyes and stir longing in his soul.  

 Finally, the Prince could no longer take it.  He would no longer just sit and dream about if he wasn't a Prince.  He would no longer sit under teaching that told him to do this, and act this way, and dress a certain way.  He would no longer be held prisoner to the bondage of being different.  He would finally do what his heart wanted to do.
 
Prince If Only pulled a traveling bag from his closet.  He took off his crown, robes, rings, and shoes- until he was down to a simple shirt and pants, just like the townspeople wore.  He stuffed his unnecessary garments under his bed and filled his bag with money and a change of clothes.  Stealthily he crept from his room and down the thirteen flights of stairs.  He crept past the sleeping guards.  By the time the creaking drawbridge had awoken them, the Prince had melted into the busy town. 
 
He was almost dizzy with excitement at his new-found freedom.  "Hey, stranger.  Come join the party,"  a young man said as he slapped the Prince on the back and pulled him over to a nearby table.  "Eat and drink up; the bill's on me."  The Prince did just that.  Oh, the food, the drink...it was so enchanting.  Never before had such surprises touched his mouth.  He ate, and he drank.  And he ate, and he drank.  The lights and music swirled faster and faster around him, until he dropped into a faint.
 
"Wake up; you mustn't get out very much," a woman laughed as she shook the Prince.  The Prince grabbed his head and tried to keep the world from spinning.  "Yup, just as I thought- a real man," she added sarcastically.  When the Prince finally could see properly without everything looking like he was gazing at it through a kaleidoscope, the most mesmerizing scened greeted him.  She looked like a gypsy fairy.  Her black hair hung to the floor with silver and gold strands woven through it.  Her green eyes twinkled seductively.  The Prince had never been in love before, but that strange feeling in his stomach and light-headedness had to be symptoms of infatuation.  She drew closer to him.  Oh, she loved bewitching this innocent young man. 
 
The Prince now no longer had to watch the scenes of romance- he was finally one of the actors in the great play of forbidden love.  Perhaps a Prince should maintain purity and virtue, but he reminded himself that he was no longer a Prince. 
 
The morning arrived.  He awoke and looked around.  His fairy had left just as quickly as she had appeared.  He searched for his bag, but came up empty-handed.  She had made a nice fortune on her time with the Prince. 

Prince If Only looked around. 
 
Somehow, from his castle window, he had failed to see all of this....
 
The broken bottles and kegs lay scattered across the ground.  Men were sprawled along the filthy streets while dogs licked the vomit that trickled down the sides of the drunks' mouths.  The Prince noticed that the same women that had looked so beautiful the night before, now only had despair and betrayal written across their faces.  They looked like old workhorses that had been used and hurt too often.  The children ran unruly through the streets.  Their skin bore marks of beatings from their uncaring parents. 
 
Scene after scene of life surrounded the Prince. 

A child speared his friend to death, a woman worshipped her god, Drug, and constantly offered him her veins, a man idolized his literature and then raped and abused when the perversion had numbed his mind, a teenager sliced herself to try to escape reality. 

The Prince shivered as it finally sunk in- this was life, this was what he had wanted, this is what the town was when the mask was stripped away.  He of the royal family was one of them now, in tattered clothes with broken glass cutting his bare feet. 

 He had always wondered about what life would be like if he wasn't a Prince, and now he knew.

Perhaps fairy tales should always have happy endings, but I prefer sad final scenes.  The ones that end with a melancholy finish are best remembered and thought upon. 
 
The moral of this story?

At some point and time, most everyone has whispered to themselves, "If only I wasn't a 'Christian', I would do this, or be that, or dress like such."  We spend most of our lives looking out the window and longing to be like everyone else.  Why don't we appreciate the fact that we are born-again into a royal family? 

Along with that heritage do come certain responsibilities; but why do we view them as restrictions instead of privileges?  We forget about all the freedoms that come along with being "set-apart". 
 
So go out and live like the Prince or Princess you are called to be.  Instead of sitting wistfully at the window, talk with the King and thank Him for letting you be His child!

Romans 12:2 - And be not conformed to this world: but be ye transformed by the renewing of your mind, that ye may prove what [is] that good, and acceptable, and perfect, will of God.

1 Peter 2:9 - But ye [are] a chosen generation, a royal priesthood, an holy nation, a peculiar people; that ye should shew forth the praises of him who hath called you out of darkness into his marvellous light:

An "All is Calm, All is Bright, Heavenly Peace" kind of Christmas

Ha... all those Christmas songs and stories that waft through the air at Christmas time are just a joke.  I mean, really, who has time to sit by the fireplace in a little log cabin somewhere in the middle of an evergreen forest.  Yeah, it's a nice dream to think about cuddling up in a fuzzy blanket, sipping warm drinks, staring romantically into a special someone's eyes, and taking horse-drawn sleigh rides at night with light snowflakes softly drifting to the ground. 

BUT- reality is- every day from November until Christmas Day finds me creating dozens of lists, scurrying from store to store, frantically cleaning the house from top to bottom to eliminate even the tiniest particles of dirt, pulling down the boxes of decorations from the attic, and baking until I can barely stand the sight of flour.  There's family get-togethers, parties, church programs, and caroling.  I carefully map out each day with a list of things to get done.  Monday- houseclean the kitchen and bathroom.  Tuesday- houseclean the bedrooms.  Wednesday through Friday- bake twenty dozen of cookies.  Oh, the utter mental agony that awaits me if I do not fully complete my item of to-dos.  I mean, it is even hard to go to sleep with all the things that need to be accomplished jumbling around in my head. 

AND THEN...I WAS HIT HARD.  Well, not literally, thankfully; but I was jolted back to what Christmas is really about when I started realizing that I wasn't enjoying the little moments around me.  What happened to celebrating the baby born in the manger, strengthening family relationships, and growing closer to my friends?  I have been so busy that I haven't even been appreciating all the "gifts" that are around me at Christmas time. 

So, this Christmas, I won't stress out if my Sunday School class makes mistakes during the Christmas program; instead I will soak in the excited looks on their faces and remember how special this time of year was when I was a child.  I won't worry if I don't get all the kinds of cookies made that I was intending to; instead I will take joy in the fact of being able to create some holiday cheer in a little round circle of dough.  I won't focus so much on cleaning that I forget to tell my family that I love them.  And when I am with my friends, I will try to keep my mind on what they are saying instead of absentmindedly listening with my ears while my head is spinning and trying to keep my plans in order. 

Yup, that sounds like the kind of Christmas that will mean the most.  The kind of Christmas that isn't focused on me and my plans, but on the ones around me.

Today is a good day to start.  I think I will eliminate some of the needless jobs that I was intending to do and instead spend quality time with my brother, give my mother a hug, tell Dad that I appreciate him and all he does, text my friends to see how they are doing, make some hot chocolate, pull out a good classic that I haven't read for awhile, turn on my colorful snowman decoration that I loved when I was little, fill the bathtub with lots of bubbles, light some candles, listen to the Messiah, and have a date night with the One Who made Christmas possible.

This year, I will have a "Silent Night" Christmas.  It will be an "all is calm, all is bright, heavenly peace" kind of a Christmas!