We live in a sexually saturated age. Anyone can see that. From deodorant advertisements to children’s clothing, our culture has become shockingly sexualized. Even people who have fully embraced the Sexual Revolution express concern that we may have gone too far. Not surprisingly, Christians have observed this frightening trend and tried to respond to it. Often at the heart of this response is a conversation about modesty.
Sweet Home. It’s more than just a lovely sentiment on a cross-stitched pillow. You might say it’s engraved, embedded, etched on our very souls. From the time we are little and draw a crayon square with a triangle on top to the day we leave home for college or set up our first apartment or purchase a house for the first time or bring that first baby home, we are ever consumed with a desire for a place of our own, indeed a place to make our own.
When it came to school, my mom believed that if you can get your children to love learning then the rest of their education will work itself out. That’s when I came along. Ten hours of labor, followed by a nasty reputation in the church nursery, and I let my mom know quickly that if she made me do anything unpleasant, I would fight her on it. This put a tiny crimp in her homeschooling plans. Maybe it was impossible to make math and science entertaining to a little girl who hated numbers and bugs, but surely there were plenty of ways to make history fun and exciting, right?
Israel lived through centuries of Divine silence; then came the Word and angels sang. Hundreds of years of stillness ended when God spoke Himself into the world. This occurrence, like so many of those in Scripture, serves not only as an historical account but as an instructive tale: It admonishes us, “Wait! Be silent!”
Be still, God says, and in that stillness you will come to know Me (Psalm 46:10).
Like most readers, I’m often asked to recommend books or name my favorite authors. These questions are fun and generally easy to answer, but that little skeptic inside me wants to know why I have seldom answered these questions the same way. Do I really not know the answer? Am I trying to impress or please my interrogator? Am I unconsciously sizing her up and offering her a book or author I think she’ll enjoy?