Being Holy

One Easter, circa 1970, my family took a trip from San Antonio to Dallas, Texas to see my Aunt, Uncle and cousins: Missy & Beverly.  I was extremely excited about this trip!  I hadn't visited with my cousins before and looked forward to playing with cousins closer to my age.

 

Growing up in a Christian home, with a Southern Belle for a mom, I was taught at a very young age to be lady like.  Being eager to please, I tried my childish best to be lady like.  Let me tell you, it is really hard to act like a lady and climb trees.  It is equally hard to make mud pies and emulate qualities befitting a lady.  Also, holding in your tummy when you needed to use the powder room was, at times, quite agonizing...especially for a child often characterized as a bucket full of worms!

 

My sister and I didn't wear pants until we moved to California in 1971.  Even then, it was a rare occasion.  Mom would sew coulottes for us (a fashion nightmare) and encourage us to wear those divided skirts rather than pants and, for heaven's sake, never shorts (in public anyway).  By the time I was about 3 months into my new Junior High School, pants entered my wardrobe (circa 1975).

 

Back to 1970.  My Aunt Mary was an exceptional hostess, house cleaner and exuded sweetness to every person she met.  She often reminded me of sweet, gentle, Cousin Melanie from Gone with the Wind...while my mom, could, at times, identify with spitfire, "jest cannot sleep a wink as I don't want to miss a thang" Scarlett O'Hara....all the while being true Southern belles.  Within 10 minutes of our arrival, I raced to my cousins' room and the plan of riding a bicycle was hatched.

 

Enter hurricane Mistress Mary.  No sooner had the words escaped my cousins' lips, "you can ride my bike," did I generate light speed acceleration and zip through the house through the family room sliding glass door.  Which was closed, mind you.  And, though I was still in my light speed trajectory, everything seemed to slow down.

 

One millisecond I was going through the glass and the next I was bounced abruptly onto my bottom with shattered glass sprinkling around me like confetti.  The rest is quite hazy in my recollection of events.  I am told my Uncle Bob was the first to grab me and make some unofficial diagnosis about my right eye being gone (which might have looked that way when covered in blood and shards of glass protruding from my forehead in a Lady Gaga kind of way).

 

My next clear memory is being cradled in my dad's arms.  This point is super important...as it was of the ultimate embarrassment and of the gravest concern to me.  My head was by the passenger door and my legs were folded next to my handsome older cousin, Gary, who was carefully driving us to the emergency room.  To you, this may seem insignificant.  To me, it was the end of my "lady like" world.  I was wearing a dress. 

 

It is terribly challenging to be a lady, a tomboy and climb trees (as has been previously mentioned).  My mom had rightly instructed me that young ladies hold their dresses down when in windy conditions, scooting onto a chair or church pew, entering or exiting a vehicle and rather than bending over to pick up a fallen cupcake, a young lady holds her dress down with one hand, bends at the knees to a crouching position and retrieves said fallen cupcake to deposit into the trash bin.  Which, in my opinion, was a terrible waste of a perfectly good cupcake.

 

One afternoon I complained rather intelligently to my mother on the logistics and difficulties young ladies have when trying to climb trees while keeping one hand on their dress so as to prevent their britches from being viewed by God and His creation.  I deftly argued that if young ladies were allowed to wear shorts under their dresses they could achieve such wonderful adventures and still retain their lady like attributes.  To which my mother replied, "young ladies shouldn't climb trees."  To which I replied, "then I shall NOT be a lady."  Which is very hard to do when it has been ingrained into every fiber of your being on what it means to be a lady and act like one.

 

Back to the car ride to the emergency room and my dress.  It was hiked up precariously in such a fashion that one might see my britches.  And, that someone could've been my cute cousin Gary!  This seriously concerned me and caused me to fuss and fidget, all the while trying to pull down my dress.  Apparently everyone thought I was having a seizure. Some urgent comment was shrilly made (that would've been by my mother) about me biting my tongue which caused my dad to unceremoniously stick something in my mouth.  What, I do not recall.  Maybe his belt? Of the rest of the trip, I don't really remember the seventeen stitches to my noggin, nor the nice nurses, nor the concerned family members.  I do recall how nice it would've been had I been wearing shorts underneath my dress.  The embarrassment of lacking shorts overwhelmed my senses and shut out the real emergency of the situation.  The real issue was I was focused on behaving lady like.

 

I wonder if we wrestle with being holy in the same way I wrestled with being ladylike.  I think sometimes we believe if we are to be holy, we will have to give up climbing trees!  Or, rather, having fun.  This is a lie!  And, you will live quite the miserable Christian life if you beleive it.

 

Somewhere in our noggins, we've misunderstood the call to be holy with a call to give up all fun, all play and to live a solemn, we are not amused life.

 

As His children, God does call us to be holy:

 

I Peter 1:13-16

Therefore, prepare your minds for action, keep sober in spirit, fix your hope completely on the grace to be brought to you at the revelation of Jesus Christ.  As obedient children, do not be conformed to the former lusts which were yours in your ignorance, but like the Holy One who called you, be holy yourselves also in your behavior; because it is written, "You shall be holy, for I am holy."

 

Being holy means we don't live wordly-like, but Godly-like.  We are to be different from the world around us.  We are not to look like the world, we are to look like Jesus.  This means we will look different, sound different and act differently. What does it mean to be holy? To be different.  Set apart for God.  Ready to be used by God for His plans, His glory and His purpose.

 

If we love God, if we love Jesus, we will want to live holy lives.  This will bring glory to God. 

 

You won't know how to be holy if you don't spend time reading God's Word, the Bible.  Just like my mother taught me to be ladylike, God's Word can teach us how to be holy.  As we study the Bible, God's Truth will become so ingrained in us that we will be more concerned with pleasing God in our holiness than pleasing the world or ourselves in our unholiness.

 

Where did you get the idea living a holy life would be boring and not fun?

When did you believe the lie that living for the world would be more satisfying than living for God?

Do you believe it is possible to be holy?

 

Be holy.  Read the book of John.  Then, read the book of Philippians.  Ask God to help you live a holy life.

 

I hope to see you all Friday night at Youth Group!  It is our last Youth Group meeting before we leave for Pismo!   
--
Mary E.Hickcox
www.CalvaryBaptistSM.org
http://mary-neotes.blogspot.com/