I became a Christian when I was seventeen. I was fully immersed in the world at that time, and this Christian thing was all new to me. But I knew there was a change in me comparable to an earthquake when I asked Jesus Christ into my life, a wonderful earthquake that left me standing in a pile of rubble that I was glad to lose. Still, I didn’t quite have the details of what the Christian life looked like. God revealed that to me a little at a time, because, I believe, He did not want me to see my new Christian faith as a list of do’s and don’ts, but rather as a relationship with Himself.
Here’s how I learned the concept of modesty in two sentences: I was asked out on a date as a new Christian, by a young man a little older than myself. He came to pick me up for the pizza date and I answered the door in a backless dress, kind of a hippie dress, I suppose, quite in style at the time. He asked me to sit down, looked at my face, and said, “Would you mind changing your clothes? It will be hard for me to treat you the way you deserve to be treated if you wear that dress.”
I did change, and I didn’t feel insulted. I felt that for the first time in my life, a young man saw my face and the inside of me, and cared that I was a daughter of the King. And I never, from that day, wore anything that might cause a man to see me any other way.
I only wish that someone cared enough about the young women of our time to tell them that they are precious to God, and that there is way more to them than their outside appearance. I only wish that perhaps a young man might have the bravery and kind-heartedness to tell them what my date told me that evening. I never saw myself the same from that moment. I knew that I had a sparkle that will never fade and that comes from the inside, that God Himself put there.