Ever since I was a child, my mother instilled in me that there was never an excuse not to look your best. I wore my first pair of pants to school when I was 12. It was a jumper. I wore hair bows until I went to middle school, and a ribbon until I was a junior in high school. It's just part of who I am now that I am either overdressed, or at least at par with the occasion. And always with at least some mascara. I sometimes wish I wasn't this way, and often think about if people think I'm superficial because of it. Probably so, but I don't do it as something to make myself feel better about myself (even though it's a proven fact that if you dress up for a test or big presentation, you'll do better because your confidence is increased). I do it because from a young age, I was taught that it was a sign of respect. Slow your roll, killer. I'm not saying wearing some yoga pants and a baggy t-shirt is disrespectful all the time any time, but in certain situations, I am.
I work for a church. It's a like a family community of staff, because it's more than just work: it's our passion, our faith, and our God that we work for everyday. The other day, I was walking down the hallway, and one of the older men on staff stopped me to tell me how much he appreciated how I dressed. He said even on Sunday mornings, I dressed like I was going to church which with my age, is a dying art. He left me with saying that it was more than the clothes. It was a sign of respect for the church and my God. I was flattered, and then had flashbacks of all of the times I've been told I dress like a soccer mom/grandma. I realized how right he was.
We, as a church of many generations, constantly battle the line of traditional vs. trendy. His generation sees church as a time of reverence and respect. Our generation sees church as a time of fellowship and extreme, head-banging faith. It's the difference between worship services: choir or band? Or the difference between groups of community: small groups or Sunday school? Or the difference in Sunday morning attire: suit and tie or jeans and a plaid button-down?
Last Wednesday, Tim (our college pastor) spoke on "Truth over Trends": how traditions and trends matter, but Biblical truth is what's important. He talked about how truths are the things we hold on to with a clinched fist, while trends and traditions can rest on an open palm.
I love that I work in an environment where people are passionate about their work, and opinions and open-discussions are welcomed. I love that we've come to this point where we have to hash out our values, and what truly does matter to us, and what is expendable. The truth is Generation X and Y have different personal make-up than the Millennial Generation. We were born in different times, taught different things, worship in different ways. A heart and a brain are two very different organs, but they both keep me alive. I can't live without either. And each of them can't survive on their own. So, who cares how we get to the Truth? I love that my church is saying, "Let's just get there together." Whether it's in an a-line skirt or uggs.
I'm a Southern girl. Born and raised in the great state of Tennessee. Go Vols. I drink sweet tea, love big porches, and expect for a man to open my door. It's common courtesy, of course. All of this concludes one thing about all southern woman that I am no exception to: I love mason jars. I moved into my own apartment this year in which I had to provide everything. The furniture, the dishes, the vacuum, the trashcan, the everything. Luckily, at the last minute I got a roommate, but I still had everything already picked out and done. The one thing I wanted was mason jars as cups. Oddly, my step-dad had an entire case of them in our basement. I love my mason jars. Some of them still have some of the paper for whatever they were still used for back in the day peeling off. They add just a touch of charm to my cabinet of dishes.
A few days ago, my boyfriend very sweetly gave me a dozen roses for no good reason at all. He's a gentleman, something all good Southern women also love. I don't spend much time in my apartment, so I cut them stems off, stuck them in a mason jar, and brought them to my desk at work. You have no idea the smile that that mason jar and roses brings to my face just by being there. It's the little things. I know that it has meaning behind it, but it's so awesome to me how something so simple can brighten my whole day.
Our Christian fellowship is like this presence. I feel bad when someone is having a bad day, and I don't know what to do to console them. I feel like a Christian failure when the right Bible verse to tell someone in their time of need. It's a constant battle in my mind when I'm listening to someone who has a need or is having a bad day to truly listen and fight the temptation to think about "the perfect thing to say" at that moment. It's a great feeling when a friend later in life remembers some great spiritual knowledge that you shed on them by the grace of the Holy Spirit, but I've found the times that are the most binding and helpful are the times that I'm just willing to be a presence. Just to show I want to be there. That in itself has meaning. Just like Wal-Mart flowers in a Mason Jar.
