month two: clothing

June is the month of clothing. Or, lack thereof. Well, not exactly. I won't be going completely without, but I am going to follow Jen Hatmaker's example in 7, and choose 7 articles of clothing to wear during the month of June. Undergarments don't count, and shoes count as one item. But I did scale it down to three pairs of shoes - work shoes, tennis shoes, and flip flops. My other 6 items are 2 shirts, a sweater, jeans, a skirt, and a pair of black flowy pants that can be dressed up or down. No accessories, no jewelry. No coat.

Again, being pregnant I feel like this month is a little different for me than it would be were I not pregnant. I say that because besides what I just listed, there aren't more than 5-10 other articles of clothing that I own right now that actually fit me. Being pregnant for me is a little like being in perpetual 7 clothes month - constantly aware of how much stock I place in my appearance and how much I feel pressured to look good so that others will like me, not think badly of me, think I am worth talking to, etc. Ugh, sometimes being a woman in America sucks big time! And I wish I could say that my need to look nice is less so within the church than it is without. But unfortunately that is not the case.

A couple years ago, when I was still on staff with our church youth group, I was having a conversation with an adult co-worker, also in youth ministry at her own church, about the desire to be liked by high school students. We were commiserating about the need to dress the part and look the part - you know, cool, trendy, someone a high school student would be drawn to.

I'm not sure why that conversation has continued to stick with me. Suddenly, it rings so very false. I'm no longer doing youth staff, but if I were, would I really want students to look up to me because I wear nice clothes and know the cool things to say to kids now-a-days (oh, I feel so old right now even typing this!). No. I don't. I don't even want students to look up to me. I want them to see Jesus. Isaiah 53 describes Jesus as a man who had no physical beauty to draw people to him, nothing in his appearance that made him attractive. He was not the dark skinned man with wavy black brown hair and rugged features and a shapely physique (sorry, Jesus, is that kosher to discuss your potential attractiveness as a man?), that we might want for the hero of a story. So why do I feel the need to be the female equivalent? Do I want someone to be attracted to me at any level because I'm gorgeous and wear the latest styles? But I was sitting there with my friend, who loves Jesus, and agreeing that this is part of youth leadership. Huh.

Okay, Jesus, here we go. Speak into whatever space is created by simplifying my clothing choices and reducing my life in this area.