The thing about modesty is that it all revolves around love.
A love for the LORD that completely satisfies a woman in a such a way that she is able to resist the temptation to be affirmed by the eyes of men.
A love for others that will cause a woman to dress appropriately not only because she knows that a gentle and meek spirit is precious in the sight of God but also to guard the hearts of her brothers in faith, not allowing her body to distract them from honoring the LORD.
A love for women that are younger in the faith that are watching her and learning what it means to be a godly woman by her example. She is either teaching them that it is okay to put her body on display for the world to see or to clothe herself in godliness.
So the question to be asked is, how are you loving God and others with what you are wearing?
She is beautiful, but no man sees her. She is sweet, kind, and loving, yet the other women who run after men are always chosen, instead of her.
Oh beautiful woman, if only you knew that you are hidden and cherished by the Writer of love stories, the One Who is preparing you for a wonderful future.
He sits alone. The kind, caring one who honors the hearts of women and shows what true manhood is. Saving his heart for a lifetime woman, not willing to settle for a moment’s pleasure. Yet the “bad boys” always seem to win the princess, as he quietly waits for his queen.
Oh kind man, if only you knew that you are reserved for the best. If you only knew that God is planning a helpmeet perfect for you, for you are chosen and set apart.
Don’t you know that true love waits? Oh yes. True love waits for all things. Through all things, true love waits.
It’s time for… a controversial topic! Yay!
Some women believe that taking on their husband’s last name is A-OK. Other women believe that it should be mutual, and both spouses should take on the other’s last name. Other women like dashes. Some women just don’t want their husband’s last name at all.
I believe, and it blows my mind knowing other women don’t think this way, that every woman should take on the name of her husband. It baffles me that this is even a topic of discussion! (So why am I talking about it, right?)
We are all born with our father’s last name, for the most part anyway. Why? Because (again, for the most part), we live in our father‘s house, under our father‘s rules, under our father‘s protection, and under our father‘s supervision. Our father then gives us his blessing and then away to our husband but until then, we belong to our father. Once we are married, we belong to our husband, therefore we take on his last name. Then we will live in our husband‘s house, under our husband‘s rules, under our husband‘s protection, and under our husband‘s supervision. Our last name signifies who we belong to. Not as in property, but when you go home at night, whose house are you in? Who is responsible for you? etc.
Of course it’s not always like that anymore. But until we are married, we belong to our father. Once we are married, we belong to our husband. That is why we take on each man’s name. Submission and respect. Simple as that.
This is from January 23, 2013.
Keep in mind that this is a rant. A non-grammar-checked or spell-checked rant.
I get so frustrated sometimes thinking about things that have happened before… I am over it and all is forgiven but sometimes the memories just come out of nowhere. Then my mind likes to play tricks on me. Making me think that this would happen or that could’ve happened. It’s terrible. And all I can do is think about it until it goes away or try really hard to focus my mind on something else. I don’t know why I put up with everything he said to me, everything he did to me. It was my own fault for continuously opening that door. I shouldn’t have. But that was “love.” He loved me and cared for me like no one else ever could or wanted to. He made sure I was always taken care of. How could I ask for anything more than that? So when he wanted something or demanded something, it was hard to say, “No.” And even when I did, it never really mattered, did it? No… it didn’t. He was the man, I was the woman, and I’d better have listened to everything he said and I better have done everything exactly the way he told me to. I couldn’t do anything wrong. I couldn’t make him mad. I couldn’t resist him. I couldn’t push him away. Even when I tried my hardest, it’s like he took all the strength away from me. I’d plead with him and try to get away but I couldn’t. He had me. How could someone tell you they care for you when they completely disrespect you? He could’ve bought me a house, a new car, and a diamond ring but to disrespect me? That’s no form of “love.” And I don’t know why I didn’t see it. “Distance makes us wise.” So when I did realize it and when I actually got the respect I deserved, I couldn’t handle it. I still can’t handle it. I am still waiting for the day when I realize that the wool has been over my eyes this entire time. But it’s not like that. I know it’s not like that. But I’m not sure how to handle the most perfect situation I have ever been put in. Especially when memories from before decide to creep in and especially when I am waiting for the day where I am re-convinced that every male in this world thinks the same things, says the same things, and lacks respect and consideration for females. But it’s not true. I know it’s not true. It can’t be true- are you kidding me? The way I’ve been feeling lately has been an all-time high and I can’t even begin to describe it. I just hope that all this goodness will one day drown out all of the madness from before. It’s not fair that I can’t be completely happy and focused. “Back then” just needs to die already.