Set apart and holy. Not-too-crazy and approachable.

Does it have to be either/or?

I got stared at a lot when I worked with Jen at George Fox. No one else there looked like me, not even remotely. It kind of made me feel like I was from another planet. But one day another lady who worked there walked by me on her way out, and she said, “Your shoes are awesome.” [Or something along those lines.] And that made my day. It made me feel like a normal person. I smiled at her, and she smiled at me, and it didn’t matter that we looked different from each other. I was just a girl with cool shoes, and she was just a girl who liked them. Normal.

Those same red plaid shoes got a similar response at a garage sale that Eric and I went to. The lady whose sale it was told me I had cute shoes and wondered if we didn’t have rules about shoes. That opened up a conversation about being Mennonite, and more importantly Christian, that was both a blessing to us and to her and a couple others there. They were Christians as well, and we connected on that level and were not so different after all.

But then there was the day Eric and I were walking through Fred Meyer and one of Dora’s coworkers saw us. She told Dora later that “he didn’t match,” as in Eric didn’t look as conservative as I did. And that bothered both of us. There was nothing wrong with what Eric was wearing. Apparently though, blue jeans and flip flops and a polo shirt didn’t match a grey cape dress and flip flops and a covering in her mind. In a way, I felt judged unfairly. And in another way, it made me wonder.

Are we to be so set apart that we are no longer approachable? Or are we to somehow reveal something in our demeanor that speaks past the “old-fashioned” clothes we’re wearing and that beckons seekers to come?

I don’t like being stared at for a number of reasons. It makes me feel insecure. It makes me feel out of place. It makes me feel looked down on. It makes me want to hide. It makes me feel like I have to measure up.

It makes me feel like an example.

Which is what I am called to be.

“Let no man despise thy youth; but be thou an example of the believers, in word, in conversation, in charity, in spirit, in faith, in purity.” (1 Timothy 4:12)

Sometimes though, I don’t know how far to take it. Does being an example mean I shouldn’t walk through a store like PacSun even though they have shoes that I really like? Does it mean I shouldn’t wear those shoes I really like because of the culture they represent? Does it mean I shouldn’t use a gas station restroom without buying something from them because I don’t want to be seen as taking advantage of them? Does it mean I should feel obligated to leave a large tip at a restaurant because I don’t want to seem stingy or ungrateful? Does it mean I should shy away from being silly and/or affectionate with my husband in public because people don’t know if we’re married or not? Does it mean I shouldn’t linger over the pistols counter at Cabela’s because no one knows if I’m looking at pistols for self-protection or for going hunting?

So many activities in life can be taken so many different ways. One person views something as being okay and doesn’t think twice about seeing a Mennonite girl doing it. Another person views something else differently and is appalled when they see me taking part.

And there’s no way to know who is watching or what they will think. There’s no way to know if what I am doing will draw them to God or push them away from Him.

After all, maybe the laughter they hear as I play laser-tag will reveal to them that I am just a normal person, despite the different clothes and the head covering. Or maybe it will disgust them that someone who goes so far to appear different from the world is actually just like the world deep down inside.

Who knows.

And so, there are things I would rather not do, stores I would rather not enter, places I would rather not be seen, because I don’t want to leave a bad taste in people’s mouths. They look at me, and they see my covered head and my conservative dress, and they draw their conclusions based on what I look like. They likely know without asking that I represent God. And so for me to leave a bad taste in their mouth by doing something that doesn’t line up with the way I look in a way leaves a bad taste in their mouth about God.

But some things are okay to do, and I still have trouble making myself do them for fear of what those around me will think. And maybe that’s when my reluctance changes its focus from God to Mennonite. I don’t want to leave a bad taste in people’s mouths about the Mennonites either. So I shy away from things that are okay in and of themselves but that make me feel conspicuous while doing them in a cape dress.

And I don’t know where to draw the line. Is it fear that drives me? Sometimes it is, and that’s something I need to overcome. But is it sometimes a justifiable fear? Because while not as important as affecting the way people view God, affecting the way people view God’s people is kind of like affecting the way people view God. We are, after all, supposed to be doing what we do out of a love for God and a desire to follow His commandments.

But does that mean we’re not supposed to have fun and that we’re only supposed to do things that “line up” with the way we look? How far do I take this thing of being a light? And am I taking the full responsibility of God’s light in me upon my own shoulders? I’m realizing they are far too frail for that.

I don’t have answers for my questions. Every question just breeds another question. But I read something yesterday morning that comforted and encouraged me and reminded me that any light I have is not of my own making. And that God can use even an imperfect light. Perhaps He even likes to use those best because then there is no question about where the light came from.

“We are not meant to be seen as God’s perfect, bright-shining examples, but to be seen as the everyday essence of ordinary life exhibiting the miracle of His grace.” Oswald Chambers, My Utmost for His Highest

All this to say, I don’t want to be out in the world as a drab, dry, boring person. I want to have a smile on my face. I want to be heard laughing. I want people to see that beneath the strange clothes and the white cap I am just like them, that I am approachable and normal and accepting. And I want them to wonder what it is inside that makes me different, not what it is outside. I want them to wonder and to search and to find the Light that gives me freedom.

It’s a hard line to walk, this being in the world but not of it. Sometimes it feels like the Mennonite clothes get in the way and are more of a distraction than a witness. Other times it feels like they speak louder than anything I could say. And as the world grows darker and darker, the smile and the clothes and the light that reflects the Light will speak louder and louder, and the mistakes that we make along the way will somehow be remedied by the Father if we are in tune with Him.

It’s comforting to me that God uses imperfect people, that He works through our mistakes. And in using imperfect people, I think He shows other imperfect people that there is a place for them at His side as well.

Set apart and approachable. It’s a high goal we strive to attain.

 

[A quote from Jen that shows a simplicity and an acceptance that we would all do well to copy: Oh, I love your hat! (and then in a pout) My mom won’t even let me wear a hat to church.]