What I learned in church when I was young.
The Holy Spirit had a dress code. The fruits of the spirit, such as goodness and grace wove their way through fabric and had their own design.
I remember wearing long skirts. I remember that the boys kept their hair short, like military recruits. But, somehow, I had forgotten all about the culottes.
Culottes billow out like skirts but have legs like pants.
I now realize that there is nothing sacred or secular about wearing such apparel. People wear just about any combination of styles these days.
But, when I was young it was a totally different story. A woman who wore pants was wanton. Her only recourse was to wear a skirt or dress. It was impractical apparel to wear for sports and hikes.
Hence, the culottes.
They were fashioned to appease the wrath of an angry God.
The wearing of them actually made me feel holy. Set apart. I felt much more sanctified than girls who wore pants.
I dared to compare myself to people I hardly knew. It was, and still is, very unwise.
But fixating on outward appearance is a tendency of all human beings. What we say. What we do. What we wear.
Thankfully, God sees the heart.
The disturbing part?
Actually, its not the culottes, although some are hideous to behold.
What troubles me is how easily I qualify my redemption, as if I have done something to deserve it or could do something to destroy it. I am ashamed at my audacity to think I could diminish the power of God’s love.