Let Go, Let God.

Full Moon -

No photoshop. This is part of a science exhibition in my town, this massive moon sculpture is suspended in the local church and was quite surreal to behold - 

“Measuring seven metres in diameter, the moon features 120dpi detailed NASA imagery of the lunar surface. At an approximate scale of 1:500,000, each centimetre of the internally lit spherical sculpture represents 5km of the moon’s surface*.“

Fischer Schmieder - Müller Schmieder house, Fraxern 2017. Photos © Adolf Bereuter.

I think modesty, however it’s defined, or applied, has to be a very personal decision. I feel strongly about that because for so long, my body and my friends bodies were up for the commentary and the criticism of adults in leadership positions as well as by one another and it had such a toxic impact on me.

I grew up in a very intense modesty/purity culture that policed the girls’ attire and enforced the “don’t cause your brother to stumble” thing to an extreme that, in practice, coddled boys and shamed girls. I cared deeply about being a godly woman, so I took it very seriously. To give some context, one of my favorite T-shirt’s from middle school was from Lifeway and it said “modest is hottest” haha! All of us girls wore t-shirts over our swimsuits. And all of those experiences added up, and they had a really harmful impact on my self-concept. It also developed a really dehumanizing, animalistic view of men for me—this idea that they are unable to exercise control over themselves. I received the message that lust was the result of a woman’s carelessness (or deviousness), and purity is ultimately a woman’s responsibility because men just can’t help themselves. I received the message that if I was not conscientious, Satan would use me as a tool of temptation. It taught me to see myself as a distraction and a danger to my male friend’s hearts. It instilled a chronic self-consciousness, and a deeply internalized sense of shame that took years to shed. Remnants of that overly emphasized virtue still mess with me.

But for the sake of freedom in Christ, and because I deeply hold to the belief that men and women are equal in value and dignity, I no longer think that a man’s thoughts are my responsibility. I no longer think they are slaves to their testosterone. I used to think that way, and to me, that’s such a reductionistic view of men that’s really unfair to them and only contributes to the problem.

I’ve learned that being or feeling or wanting to be attractive is not a sin, or something I need to minimize. My husband has been the one to free me from so many of these views, and he has taught me that he is in full control of his eyes and his mind, and that if a naked woman walks in front of him, it is his responsibility to not mentally violate her by diluting her existence to an object of lust. I know that’s a bold stance, but objectification happens when one chooses to devalue another person for their own consumption. Granted, that takes intentionality and self-control (especially in our highly pornographic culture), but that is the godliness we should require of men—they’re capable! It is not a sin to see something and find it attractive. It is sinful to dwell, to ruminate, to objectify, or to give the mental energy of coveting or fantasizing about what is not for you.

Back to my point about modesty being a very personal decision…In order for me to live a sane and emotionally healthy life, I no longer worry myself with things I can’t control, like the minds of men. I am not a stumbling block. My body is not a curse, and I am not more godly for hiding it or less godly for showing it. I care about feeling comfortable and confident, because that’s when I feel most myself, and that looks differently based on context. I care about being known as more than whatever I look like on a given day.

As for strangers, whose eyes I do feel lingering on me sometimes, I‘m not interested in or responsible for their thoughts about me. Their thoughts—whether they’re god honoring or not—are a reflection of their own heart and not a reflection of my dignity or morality.