I’ve written about it before, but it’s worth saying again: Modesty makes me feel free. I can bend over. I can play with my kids on the floor. I can walk outside on a windy day without having to hold my clothes in place.
I never ever have to worry about what I might be accidentally revealing.
Do you know how good that feels?
It enables the kind of life I’m always trying to live—a no hands on the handle bars kind of life, a running barefoot kind of life, an unlined paper kind of life.
It may sound paradoxical, but the truth is that some rules make most rules unnecessary. Modesty works that way. When I dress modestly I get to (mostly) forget about my posture, about what is and isn’t lady like, about reservation and propriety.
It makes me think of being in Christ, the way Christ’s blood frees us from the letter of the law, not by abolishing all the rules, not exactly, but rather by changing us fundamentally through the spirit so that the rules are easier to follow (or, in some cases, irrelevant). Maybe this is a tangent, but I think it’s interesting that putting on Christ is depicted that way, as if we’re dressing ourselves in Christ. In other places, we’re “covered” by the blood of Christ.
You’d think a free people would be a naked people, but that’s not the case. Jesus covers His children and the covering makes them free.