“We wanted our guests to have something to do as they arrived [while] we took pictures with our families, so we planned a kitten hour,” Colleen told POPSUGAR. “We did a cocktail hour with cocktails named after our cats for the reception, but the Quaker meeting house we used for the ceremony doesn’t allow alcohol on premises. I wanted a wedding falcon, but Iz vetoed that, and so we compromised on kittens.”

https://www.popsugar.com/moms/Couple-Has-Kitten-Hour-Wedding-45498151/amp

Raye: Ohio Yearly Meeting holds our yearly meeting in Barnesville Ohio–some people know us as those Barnesville folks. We have an electronic Outreach Committee and that includes the oversight and ministry associated with our website. We spend time thinking about how to open up to people who might be interested in Friends’ ways and might want to know more about us whether or not they’ve ever read the Journal of George Fox. We’re trying to expand our witness, if you will.

One of the questions that has come up in this electronic outreach group is: what types of communication or video are useful for someone to get to know us but also respectful of the fact that we do worship and that worship is a spiritually intimate time. We’re trying to bridge and deal with respecting the worshippers, the Friends themselves, to not put on a performance and yet to try to communicate what it is that is edifying in practice and worship.

Martin: How do you give newcomers a taste of Quakers without directing it too much? If you just have that silent empty box it’s hard for newcomers to know what should be filling that box.

Raye: One of the things Friends have done for hundreds of years is to publish, to keep journals and to share that. But that’s not all there is to the Friends experience. There are those quiet times and those moments of ministry that we believe are Spirit-inspired. Many of us wish we could give people a little taste of that because that doesn’t show up in a lot of published writings. That spontaneous and timely, and at times prophetic, witness that we see in our Meetings. We have considered digital video as a way to do that.

Martin: I love the video possibilities here. Video can be a way of reaching out to more people.

Raye: It’s not just anything that can be written. Certainly the writings that have been published are very helpful in getting some sort of a glimmer of where we have been, or in some cases where we are headed or where we are. But there is nothing like that experience of being with Friends in meeting. It doesn’t always happen but there are these moments called a covered meeting or a gathered meeting where everybody seems to be in the same place spiritually and when seems to be messages and gifts coming through people. That’s difficult to get across.

We’re hoping that with video we can discuss these kinds of things after the fact. We don’t want to turn it into a spectator sport or performance.

Martin: Authenticity is a key part of the Quaker message. You’re not practicing what you’re going to say for First Day or Sunday. You’re sitting there and waiting for that immediate spirit to come upon you.

Raye: We don’t know when that will happen. There are meetings where everybody is very quiet, where there’s a sense of that spirit and unity but it may be an outwardly quiet meeting. I have been in meetings where someone stood up and began to sing their message or a psalm or someone had a wonderful sermon that was perfect for the moment. These things happen but we don’t know when they will.

I asked KD if I could put his description up as a “guest post.’ I’m hoping a post here can let more seekers and Friends in Baltimore know about it. But beyond that, there’s a definite small movement afoot and I thought Ranter readers might be interested in the example (here are a few others: Laughing Waters and Chattahoochee (thanks to Bill Samuel for the last link, some of these are indexed in his helpful Friends Christian Renewal listing).

From KD:

Before R. got sick and eventually died, we had been thinking of
hosting an informal meeting for worship in the manner of Friends at our
house that would be explicitly Christ-centered. We aren’t talking
Christian Orthodoxy here, but rather with the understanding of all
involved that we come together to explore our faith through the
teachings of Jesus and those who came before and after him.  It would
be Quaker in that we’d follow in the tradition of Quaker Christians,
gaining from their wisdom and experience.

Now, the Spirit is leading me back to this.  

So, what is going on? 

I
very much appreciate universalism as a world view. I in no way believe
that Christianity is the only way. I do believe, however, that Jesus is
the Way, Truth and the Life.  The Way being one of love and compassion,
of justice and sincere seeking of that mystery that I call God.  I
don’t think Jesus was the only one who brought that way, but I do see
his way as leading to God, and that by his Way, we can get to God. It
doesn’t matter to me whether he was or is God; I do see him as a
sacrament, a way to God.  For me he is the way to God.  He is living. I know this experientially.

So
I want to share in this with others. I want to sit in silence, or sing
in praise, or consider a query, scripture or word of advice from
Friends past with others who also want to know God through Christ.  I’m
not concerned about theology.  IT’s about experience for me.  I don’t
mind if those who don’t “know Jesus” come, as I know God can speak
through all.   If those who come and don’t consider themselves
Christian are willing to wrestle with the teachings of Jesus and his
ancestors and his followers, then I say WELCOME!  I’m not set on form
either.  I do prefer unprogrammed worship, but I mean that literally: 
that we don’t necessarily set a program, but that there indeed may be
silence or a query, scripture or advice read at the beginning of
worship. Perhaps candles are lit, maybe even *gasp* incense!  I don’t
feel the need to be bound to our puritan roots and yet I feel the
wisdom of allowing the Spirit to direct the worship is a wisdom we
should continue to follow.  I believe in experiential and experimental
worship. Perhaps we have the Friends hymnal available and one may feel
led to sing from it and others can join if they too feel led.  As for
now, it’s been completely unprogrammed worship as one would find in
most Conservative Friends meetings.   As for community, I hope God will
gather together a community where we do recognize ministries and gifts
perhaps in the way that Friends have done so traditionally but maybe in
radically new ways!   I’m so tired of Evangelical/Liberal/Conservative labels.  Can we just be Friends?

I do so love being Quaker.  I do so love Jesus.  I hope to find a community where these are wed without qualifications.

We meet third Sundays of every month at a home (Mine right now) from 5–6pm and are listed in Quaker Finder:

Downtown Baltimore Worship Group
Christ-centered, unprogrammed worship is generally held on the 3rd Sunday of the month at 5:00 PM in a home. Follow link for current details.

I find that we conservative-leaning Friends in Liberal meetings are often quick to cry out that our meetings must return to our Christian roots or seek to know Christ together. And this is what I personally yearn for in the Society of Friends in many ways. But it is far too often said with a sentiment that WE Christian Friends have to do this. TODAY. NOW. God can’t wait. And we can’t wait for God. We have to convince everyone we are right and Quakerism without Christ is no Quakerism at all. No wonder James and so many other non-theists sometimes worry that Christ-centered Friends are craving an inquisition-like purge!
Corporate change can only occur with corporate leading. It will not and cannot come by a few determined, “enlightened souls” who will attempt to non-violently twist the arm of the meeting until they cry “Jesus!”
I don’t want a purge. And, as a Christ-centered, Liberal Friend, schism is often a tempting daydream for me to dwell in, but I’m doubtful that that is where I will be led anytime soon. We aren’t called to “fix” the Society of Friends on our own. That’s Christ’s work, and it’s hubris to assume it’s all on our shoulders. Our job is to simply bear witness to the measure we’ve been given, open our hearts to receiving the measure given to others, and honor our covenant of membership with one another as we seek to understand the next step in finding our shared faith. And it just so happens that that is everyone’s job in meeting – Christ-centered, universalist, non-theist, or whatever label a Friend might apply to themselves. We will all be used in this process.
I don’t want to leave this at an abstract level, however. Let me offer an extremely personal and dear example:
When I spoke on a panel at my meeting exploring the differences of our community’s languages, experiences and beliefs, I bore witness to Christ in my life as a personal, creative Source of Life and Truth. Afterwards, a couple came up to me and thanked me for offering my ministry. One of them said I spoke of Christ with a “prophetic voice.” This couple identifies themselves and Jewish, non-theist Friends. It meant so much to me.
I continued to deepen my relationship in the Spirit with each of them. When I was welcomed into membership at a small meeting dinner (months after I had become a member, in proper Quaker fashion), one of the members of this couple clearly expressed her commitment to my journey, understood as following Christ. I voiced my commitment to them in their spiritual journey.
Did I make a mistake in that moment? To say I am committed to another’s spiritual journey that doesn’t profess Christ or even God? I think not – because this commitment was not born when I verbalized it to them – it began when I became a member of Friends Meeting at Cambridge, a member of the Religious Society of Friends, and a member of these two Friends. And to that I was clearly led. Our covenant of membership is a call to be members of one another. And I use the word covenant quite intentionally — I believe that one of the ways that God reveals herself to us is through the model of the beloved community. In seeking to honor the covenant we have made with our fellow Friends, we further understand the blessings and challenges of seeking to honor our covenant with God.
This doesn’t mean that I shouldn’t boldly and compassionately speak of the loving work of the Light of Christ within me. It just means being open to the fact that I might have a lot of spiritual wisdom to receive from searches for Truth that don’t involve a recognition of Christ, and I should support those journeys as much as I am clear to. And in doing so, I may find my own understanding of Truth has grown.
I take this commitment of membership very seriously – to labor, nurture, support and challenge my fellow Friends; to walk in the Light together, and to give, receive, and pray with my fellow sojourners when the next step is unclear. My feet are on solid ground. Honestly, I fear my meeting’s are often in sinking sand. But to attempt to force our community into theological flagellations without the hand of the Holy Spirit actively pulling us all up together will only cause us to sink in deeper.
Furthermore, to lose patience and walk alone towards the light before me is to leave others behind. And the next time I lose my way, I don’t want to be alone.

bq. Jeffrey Hipp is a member of Friends Meeting at Cambridge (MA), and is co-clerk of the Young Adult Friends of New England Yearly Meeting.
This piece originated as a response to “What’s God Got to Do, Got to Do With it?”:http://www.nonviolence.org/martink/archives/000577.php. Reproduced as a feature with permission from the author.

There is much expressed in these pages which I can heartily support. Certainly, if Friends are reluctant to speak of God or Christ in the Religious Society of Friends for fear of disapproval or censure, something needs to be corrected. We cannot build deep, loving community in an atmosphere of anxiety and mistrust.
I also discern a sense that the author and many visitors to this site feel that many Friends are more interested in an easy, comfortable, unchallenging social and political club, than a place for serious spiritual growth and challenge. If you wish to call that being “convicted in our sin,” so be it. The phrase does not speak to me, but I think its meaning does.
At the same time, I discern a sense here–rarely explicit, but frequently implied–that what liberal Quakers need is a good purging, a removal of those Friends who don’t believe what “we” think Friends should believe. Who “we” are, and precisely which beliefs are acceptable and unacceptable, is very much in question.
I don’t believe in God, and have spent the last 15 years among Friends trying to understand, among many other things, why I feel so irrestibly drawn to a community and religious society in which the central term is God. My relationship with that community is at the center of my life, and has transformed and improved me in ways that make me deeply grateful and reverent for whatever it is we experience or create together. It has not made me a theist.
In my large and very liberal meeting, a fair number of messages in meeting for worship invoke the name of God or Christ or Jesus. Perhaps a larger percentage do not, including many from Friends I know to be Christians of various sorts. That a message does not invoke the name of God, does not prove or even suggest that God is not present in the message. If I am mistaken and God does exist, surely he is manifest in all creation and humanity, and not merely at those moments when we invoke his name. If I am mistaken and God does exist, surely he is manifest in me, and in what I bring to my meeting, and what my meeting brings to me. Surely your conception of God is not that he is only present in the lives of those who hold certain theological propositions to be true. Or am I mistaken about this as well?
I do experience something mysterious and profound and life-changing in my religious life among Friends. I have a hard time describing it, though I occasionally try in my flawed and halting language. Perhaps the experience I have is the same as, or deeply similar to, that which you call God. For me to use that term would be misleading, even dishonest, because, mysterious as my experience sometimes is, nothing about it strikes me as unnatural. It is something beyond me, naturally, as it springs not from my own doing, but from the encounter or relationship between me and others, between me and the world. It is neither here nor there, but a living bond that comes from being alive in the world with other living beings. There is something sacred in that bond, and acting in ways that tend to violate it is not righteous. I depend on my community for many things, and one of those things is to keep me honest to that bond. I submit myself to that discipline freely and joyfully, and my willingness springs from the faith I have in the goodness of that community. I do not and cannot, however, submit my mind, my beliefs–my measure of the light–to any authority. To do so would be a violation of my integrity, and it is not in the tradition of George Fox or the founders to demand this sort of obedience, nor to deny the blessing of our community to those who will not state agreement with certain theological propositions.
I am confident that Fox and his followers would have been shocked to see the theological diversity that is the reality of modern liberal Friends. He also would have been shocked, I suspect, to learn that the creation story/stories of Genesis, taken literally, would soon be proven by science to be clearly and absolutely false. Given his unshakeable integrity, given the radical nature of his ministry, given 300 more years of light and learning, I think his beliefs would have changed in many ways that are hard to imagine. Should we have not changed during this period?
My goal is not to change Friends, though my presence among them will probably have some small effect. Like Popeye and Luther, I am what I am. At the same time, I applaud and honor the Christians and others whose faith in God is utterly central to everything of value in their lives. It would grieve me deeply if you were reluctant to speak your faith in worship to avoid offending me. Sometimes your language about God speaks to me very deeply, though on a metaphorical level. Other times, not so much. In any case, your beliefs are important to me. I want to know you. I would like for us to remain Friends.
Either way, I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.

This piece originally appeared as a comment on “We’re All Ranters Now”:http://www.nonviolence.org/Quaker/ranters.php.

I see new seekers arriving who are trying to come to terms with September 11. They want more than to be handed a copy of “Friends for 350 Years” and to be told to stick around. Some of us are catching on to that, finally.
I see the 20- and 30-somethings arriving because they have read Woolman or Fox or Kelly and thus already know more than many oldtimers. (I say “many.” Not “all.”)
I see this community of bloggers, reaching out to each other and connecting, when meetings (and here I venture to say “all”) are focused on keeping their pamphlet racks filled, rather than posting URLs on their bulletin boards or creating a newcomer’s URL handout.
I see you(I’m still a nonblogger)trying to support each other in your searching and trying to provide for each other the depth and spiritual friendships that your meetings probably aren’t providing.
I see a real shift among many Friends who came into the Society in the 1960s and early 1970s, the Vietnam generation. Many rabid universalist Friends who couldn’t stand to hear Christ language have become more nearly Christ-centered and are now questioning the rigidity and fundamentalism of the universalist Friends. Some of these Friends are in leadership positions in yearly meetings now.
I see a real interest in and hunger for prophetic voices. I see a renewed interest in the Bible. In dressing plain as a testimony. In discerning spiritual gifts. These younger-than-the-aging-hippie Friends do not have the hair-trigger revulsion against leadership that the 60-somethings do.
Put simply, you don’t want to be Ranters anymore.
These are my reasons for hope.

This piece originally appeared as a comment on “Uh-Oh: Beppe’s Doubts”:/martink/archives/000544.php about a favorite blogger’s questioning of his Quaker faith.
*See also:* Liz Opp’s take on this in “Quakerism, From Generation to Generation”:http://thegoodraisedup.blogspot.com/2005/03/Quakerism-from-generation-to.html on the Good Raised Up, Rob’s “What Keeps Us Quaker?”:http://consider-the-lilies.blogspot.com/2005/03/what-keeps-us-Quaker.html on Consider the Lillies and my own “It’s My Language Now/Thinking About Youth Ministries”:/martink/archives/000555.php

As of late, I’ve been led to consider my outward appearance and how I choose to dress. Without elaborating on that leading in this posting (perhaps later), I have given much thought to clothing and dress generally. How we dress communicates a great deal to others about ourselves—whether or not it’s our intention.

The vain among us put a great deal of emphasis on our clothes and obsess about what it may say to others about our physical or social traits: “Am I hot, or am I not? Do I look smart with these glasses? Do these pants make my butt look big?” The secretly vain (perhaps everyone else) tend to avoid the topic lest they might have to inwardly admit that they are in the former category. Even if we tell ourselves that we don’t mean to communicate much of anything by our attire, it’s certainly true that others understand our clothes to be saying something about us. Let us begin the conversation there to avoid determining whether we are outright vain or just secretly vain. 🙂

Clothing communicates many things about us including perceptions of age, sex, class, and wealth. Clothing can stereotype us as urban or rural; cool or uncool (a subjective measure, of course); hip or hopelessly out of fashion. Some examples: when I wear my best suit to work, I sense that I get a higher level of respect than when I dress more casually. When I go out for a night on the town, I pick my “New York” shoes to convey a certain cosmopolitan image. Also, when I wear my coat collar standing up, it says something different than when I wear my collar flat. In what instances do you dress differently to emphasize a different part of yourself?

On evenings and weekends, I tend to wear the same clothes: a logo-free long-sleeve shirt, corduroy pants and a pair of retro-like sneakers. I do it because it’s comfortable and it’s easy; I always know what to wear, and I get to avoid the dreaded deed of shopping—something I really dislike. (It also means that I do laundry more often!)

Even though I tend to wear that same set of clothes outside of work, that decision says more than that I simply don’t care that my clothes are always the same. The outfit communicates a great deal more: One is just as likely to see a man wearing cords, retro sneakers and a logo-free long-sleeve shirt as one is a woman. Perhaps my clothes communicate androgyny. Maybe they say that I’m an urban dweller—a little bit of a hipster, but not too much. Perhaps they say that I’m cheap. Whatever they communicate, I think it’s fair to say that they say something to others. Once I admit that my clothes indeed say something, I can get past my discomfort (I must be secretly vain) and talk about it openly. Who is the person that I’m called to be and how am I outwardly led to embody those qualities? Through actions, yes, but through dress?

Plain dress, while a statement in and of itself, communicates faith, commitment to that faith, and Otherness. It set a person apart differently than other forms of dress. When prompted by an inner spiritual leading, plain dress isn’t simply the other side of the “cool coin.” It doesn’t vary by day or circumstance, and to some, plain dress is rather ugly. However, plain dress stands for something much different than a rejection of our cultural ideals of beauty and virility. It is an embrace of one’s inner spirit and making that spirit and that faith an outward symbol.

To me, plain dress would serve as a daily reminder of a commitment to lead a more Christian and Quaker life. If I were to dress plain, I would have to sacrifice my coolness (for lack of a better word) and wear plain, and rather unexciting clothes. I wouldn’t have the luxury of dressing for different audiences and circumstances depending on my motivations. In essence, I would outwardly communicate that I am a Quaker first, a person living each moment in the spirit and in the Light, and everything else second. Plain dress would serve as a reminder to me and others that I aspire to live toward God and in the footsteps of Jesus in all places, at all times, and in every circumstance.

What an empowering thought! It is a tremendous leading for anyone to hear and one worth seeking greater discernment.

Originally posted as a comment to “My Experiments with Plainness”, Amanda’s story deserves its own post: “I’ve noticed that I’m becoming really attached to my clothes. As I was grimly and methodically culling my closet, a whiny, desperate voice in my head piped up, and I began to have a serious conversation with myself… [A] reservation I have is that plain dressing may just be another way of telegraphing the image I want the world to have of me. Only instead of that message being ‘I am cool and worthy of your attention and envy’ the message might be ‘I’m so hoooooly’.”

Hi there!

I am 21, and the only member of my family who attends meetings of Friends. (I am not a Friend yet, being young to the whole experience, and an ex-catholic, and having wandered for several years in strange paths!! 🙂 However, I am taking it very seriously, and reading all I can get my hands on. I feel a strong call towards plain dress, and have gone through fits and starts of it spontaneously, even as a Catholic child. At 12, I decided I would no longer wear colours in imitation of all the siants habits I saw in my books, and my friends and I (I grew up in rural Canada, homeschooled, the oldest of 11 kids, an anarchonism to begin with) tried sewing our own clothes ourselves, praire dresses and pinafores.

When I was 14, we moved to the States, to the suburbs, away from our uber-traditional Catholic enclave, and I began to normalize myself out of the “homeschooler uniform” (its own sort of plain dress — those terrible jumpers with ankle socks and canvas sneakers! Ack!) and into mainstream fashion, where I’ve been solidly entrenched ever since, especially since moving to NYC.

I am now in the process of purging a lot of my stuff, and seeking a simpler way of living. I quit smoking, and have decided that drinking as a recreational activity is out unless it’s an organized event. This may become more strict in time, but I have to ease into it a little bit. I got rid of several bags of clothes and a bunch of household items I was hoarding “just in case I might need them someday”. Classic. A lot of things have precipitated this, but one of them is my absolute horror at how I’ve gone from making $12,000 a year to nearly $30,000, and I still am saving no money at all, nor am I making any lasting purchase/investments, etc…I’m just spending it on vain and useless things. I’ve noticed as well, that I’m starting to have more and more big-salary fantasises, and recreationally go to stare in shop windows at clothes, not just to appreciate the asthetic value of some of the most gorgeous garments in the world (after all, this is Manhattan) but also to drool and covet. I found, while examining my concience, that it wasn’t even the thing — the piece of clothing that I wanted, and it wasn’t a simple desire to have something pretty. I saw myself linking these clothes and things to my self worth and future happiness. You know:

“Once I am thin and rich enough to wear this, I will be happy. I will be so happy. So very happy. Everything will be perfect, and my hair will always be straight, and I will have my teeth veneered, and I will have a handsome man who worships the ground I walk on, and three bright-eyed children who appear only on Sunday mornings to snuggle with me in my California-king-sized bed with the white crisp sheets, while I languidly smile at their frolicing and plan to buy them a golden retriever puppy later that afternoon as I stroll through an antique fair and buy a vintage wicker bird cage, which I will fill with finches and hang from my sun-drenched porch in my second house in the south of France, and I be happy. So happy. So very happy, if I am only thin and rich enough to wear those clothes.”

I really, really woke up one afternoon to find myself standing on 5th Ave and 59th street, on my lunch break, staring in a window, and having that fantasy with absolutely no internal ironic monolouge at all. At all.

It completley panicked me.

I’ve noticied that I’m becoming really attatched to my clothes. As I was grimly and methodically culling my closet, a whiney, desperate voice in my head piped up, and I began to have a serious conversation with myself.

“You can’t get rid of so many of your cool clothes. The clothes are you, they’re a huge part of who you are.”

“Wait,” the other voice in my head, the stern one, said (I am a schizophrenic and so am I) “You are saying that I am what I wear. That’s supposed to make me want to keep them? Do you even hear what you’re saying?”

The first voice was totally backtracking.

“No, no, no, I didn’t mean you were your clothes, or that you were only worth as much as your clothes, why do you always have to be so literal? I meant that your clothes tell people about you, about who you are and what you believe in. They’re an outside sign of who you are.”

“Ah.” said the second voice, rather sarcastically, I thought, “So we’d rather have people learn everything they need to know about us by our clothes, instead of having them take the time to get to know us from experience of us.”

“Well, that’s all very well!” said the first voice. “That’s nice in an ideal world. But the truth is, the sad truth is, most people won’t take the time to get to know you if you don’t seem cool.”

“Wow.” said the second voice. “Wow. This has nothing to do with fashion, does it? This totally has to do with your inferiority complex, dating back to about second grade, doesn’t it?”

At this point the first voice began to suck its thumb, and I realized to my horror that the second voice was right. It’s always right.

“Fashion is what you adopt when you don’t know who you are.” ~Quentin Crisp

I’ve actually begun buying my personality in a store, and telling myself that it’s okay because I’m buying it in a thrift store. I know from personal experience that the right headscarf or pair of vintage shoes, or funny t‑shirt will suddenly raise the value of my social currency off the charts. And I’m becoming really dependent on that, to the point where I’ve started to actually feel anxiety around my “style” and my clothes. I ironically played the role of fashion police for a boy at a party who was mocking me for being from Williamsburg, and although I was kidding around when I excoriated him for his American-Eagle shorts and surfer-boy hair, it struck me, I’m spouting all these “rules” as if I’m mocking them, but I actually live by them, don’t I?

And I’ve increasingly begun to obey them out of fear instead of out of a love of neat clothes or a sense of aesthetic. I have cooler clothes than ever, and sudenly I have a need to make more money so that I can keep looking cool, and keep fitting in, and keep proving to everyone, most of all myself, that I should be invited to Angelica’s birthday party because the whole rest of the class is and it’s not fair…oh wait. That was second grade.

Benjamin Franklin wrote: “Money never made a man happy yet, nor will it. There is nothing in its nature to produce happiness. The more a man has, the more he wants. Instead of its filling a vacuum, it makes one. If it satisfies one want, it doubles and trebles that want another way.”

This seems like a huge cliche, but you know, the more I think about it, the more it seems that the modern horror of cliches may have less to do with a love of originality than with a fear of the truth.

So those are the motivations — that much is worked out. But the practice of it is hard. Was I experienceing a genuine calling to plain dress as a child, or did I just read too much “Little House”? (Is there such a thing as too much “Little House”?) And now, am I just a costume-loving poser?

I feel a bizarre attraction to head-covering as well, though I recoil with my whole post-feminist self from those passages in the bible. I don’t think I believe in submission to anybody. In fact, I’m not sure even God wants me submissive ‑I feel he wants my co-operation.

“I will not now call you servants: for the servant knoweth not what his lord doth. But I have called you friends: because all things whatsoever I have heard of my Father, I have made known to you.” John 15:15

Another reservation I have is that plain dressing may just be another way of telegraphing the image I want the world to have of me. Only instead of that message being “I am cool and worthy of your attention and envy” the message might be “I’m so hoooooly”. Or, perhaps more positively, it might be a message that is “witness” — a concept I am struggling with on its own — what if I make mistakes and my witness is mistaken, etc.

My compromise was to get rid of all the clothes I’d bought just for attention, all the clothes I was keeping for purely sentimental reasons, everything that didn’t fit, or match with anything else, etc. And to be honest, that just pared it down to where I can actually fit all my clothes in my 1 closet and dresser, a feat heretofore unknown to me. Also, a big part of this move was to start taking care of my clothes, something I’ve never done. I’ve made an active dicipline of something as simple as hanging up my clothes each night, as an act of respect and gratitude. It occured to me that when I am so fortunate as to have many posessions, it seems extremely wrong that I should mistreat them the way I’ve been doing.

Wow. Forget plain dress, plain speech is going to be an even bigger problem. I’ve written a novel.

* blush *

Anyhow, it is wonderful to see it discussed, sometimes I feel like I’m just nuts. I mean, I know I’m nuts, but I don’t like feeling that way. 🙂

in friendship,
Amanda