Why I Don't Wear Pants

When I was a teenager in high school, I made fun of girls who wore skirts down to their ankles. Although I didn’t attend a church at that time, my parents instilled some Christian teaching into me and my sisters. I knew that clothes can't get you into heaven. And they can’t. The bible clearly teaches that Jesus is THE way. No matter what we do or what we wear, we can’t earn a place in heaven. Our righteousness is as filthy rags. So why do some denominations have such a strict dress code? It didn’t make sense to me then and it doesn’t make sense to me now.

 Recently, I cohosted a radio show entitled Denominational Divides. It was a great show and great fun. But towards the end of the show, when the listeners heard that I didn’t wear pants, they attacked. I found myself on the defensive and I didn’t quite know how to answer.

 Let this blog post serve as my answer.

Why don’t I wear pants?

Let me say upfront that, I know many women of God who wear pants. I don’t doubt their salvation. I have seen God work through their lives to touch others. 

 

I have identified myself as a Pentecostal, but there are many different variations of my denomination. I would like to clarify my beliefs and why I believe them. Though I have many friends that are, I am NOT Apostolic. I am NOT Holiness*. I am definitely NOT Oneness.

 

Because I grew up with a mixed Christian heritage, I have studied many doctrines and visited many different churches. I have found that congregational beliefs are best determined by examining church leadership rather than their ordinances and bylaws. For example, I know of a Baptist preacher who speaks in tongues, and I know a Holiness preacher who doesn’t. I agree with the original 16 Fundamental Truths of the Assemblies of God, therefore I attend an AofG church. We do not have a dress code, but we do believe in sanctification.

 So, why don’t I wear pants?

To completely answer that question, I have to revisit the wonderful day Jesus saved me. My life was a wreck. I had everything that I wanted, but nothing that satisfied me. I had a great job, plenty of money, tons of friends, designer clothes, and about fifty pairs of shoes. I was miserable. Like Nicodemus, I went to Jesus and asked, “What must I do to be saved?” Jesus’ answer hadn’t changed in 2000 years. “You must be born again.” So at an altar I gave Jesus my life and let Him make me new. I was reborn. Over the next few years, radical changes took place in my life. I let Jesus place me on the potter’s wheel and mold me. Some changes were immediate and easy, some changes were difficult and occurred over time. But I am His and though I am not perfect, I try to be who He wants me to be.

A couple of years after I got saved and after I received the baptism of the Holy Ghost—with the evidence of speaking in tongues—I noticed that most of the ladies in our church didn’t wear pants. I wondered why, so I asked my pastor’s wife and she gave me her explanation with scriptural references. I went home and researched her answers. I didn’t agree with her opinions. I didn’t agree with her answers and decided skirt wearing wasn’t for me. But then a strange thing happened. Whenever I would dress in pants and leave the house an unseen hand would squeeze my heart. I couldn’t breathe. But if I wore a skirt, an inexplicable joy settled in my soul. I recognized this as conviction from God. Since I love Jesus, I changed the way I dressed to please Him. I have never regretted my decision. It was part of my sanctification, and because of it I grew closer to my Lord.

 I have since been criticized because my skirts are too short, because I cut my hair, because I color my hair, and because the female characters in my Pentecostal books wear pants. How I dress is between me and God. I don’t dress to please men. When I stand in judgment, I will stand alone before God. My goal is to hear Him say, “Well done.”

 

What is your goal? To please men or God? I know of some ladies who dress a certain way and are miserable, because they are pleasing their pastor, their parents, or their husband. This breaks my heart, because Jesus said, “Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.” Matthew 11:28

Though we should dress modestly, we shouldn’t be burdened down by people’s expectations. I believe in modesty and personal sanctification* NOT legalism.

*In I Peter 1:16, Peter references Leviticus 20:7
"Sanctify yourselves therefore, and be ye holy: for I am the LORD your God."

I believe in Holiness living, because God calls his people to a higher standard.  I don't advocate dressing a certain way to please others. You will only make yourself miserable. I do believe we should strive to please our Savior. This includes our choice of clothing. Before I dress in the morning, I ask Him what He wants me to wear. 

I fell in love with Jesus, and I try to do the Father's will to please Him.

This is my story. Leave a comment and share yours.
 

The Answer?

The answer to the world’s problems is...

 

 

Addictions?                            Jesus delivers.

Alcohol bound?                      Jesus frees.

Unloved?                                Jesus loves.

Unwanted?                             Jesus cares.

Orphaned?                              Jesus adopts.

Abandoned?                           Jesus rescues.

Lonely?                                   Jesus indwells.

Confused?                               Jesus enlightens.

Hungry?                                  Jesus feeds.

Lost?                                       Jesus saves.

Never apologize for obeying God

The bible says, “Obedience is better than sacrifice.”

Oftentimes God uses strange vessels. A burning bush. A talking donkey. But what about us? How does He use His people?

Obedience sometimes comes with a higher price than sacrifice. Take for instance, the heartache suffered by Hosea when he married the harlot Gomer, the persecution of the first Christians when they preached the gospel, Peter criticized by the church for obeying the vision and going to Cornelius’s house, Jeremiah put in a pit for prophesying the truth, or the prophets of old punished and killed.

What about Phillip? Have you ever wondered why the early church didn’t reprimand him for preaching to the Samaritans? Was it because the Samaritans were half Jews? I don’t know. But I do know that when we obey God, we sometimes face persecution from the world and from the church.

One night, in a service years ago, the Spirit was moving and God told me to open the double doors to the entrance of the church. Immediately, Satan whispered in my ears, “Don’t.” He named three people and told me what they would think if I obeyed God. One would complain about the cool air escaping into the night. Another would be angry because of the insects entering the sanctuary, and yet another would worry about the young children wandering outside.

When I told God that I couldn’t open the doors because people would be mad, he didn’t contradict me. He didn’t tell me that everyone would be happy and applaud my efforts. No. He said some people won’t like it, but do it anyway.

I did. And he poured out an awesome blessing that night. A few nights later, I learned that the three people did complain about the wasted electricity, the bugs, and the danger to the children. (Though none escaped into the night.)

With this blog post, I’m reminding myself of God’s words. With everything that he’s done for me, how could I choose to do what men say over what God says? And though some people will complain, I will obey God and I won’t apologize.

JESUS IS MORE THAN A BANDAID!

A few months ago, a well known Christian lady purchased my novel, Whatever He Wants. Shortly thereafter, I received a phone call. She said, “I cannot believe you wrote a book full of sex, drugs, and alcohol. Why?”

 

My response was weak. Since the release of the book, I had heard many great testimonies from readers about how the story had helped them by giving them hope or giving them a hunger for God's presence. I wasn’t expecting an attack from fellow Christians. I know with absolute certainty this was a Jesus story. A story God gave me to write. A story that I prayed and fasted for.  Since then, others have questioned my work. "Why did you depict sin so that the reader is almost tempted?"

 

This blog post is an answer to that question.

 

 

 

The book, Whatever He Wants, opens at a party scene.
Drugs, alcohol, and hook-ups are center stage.
This is reality.

Like many of us, James Preston struggles with consequences of past sins.
He searches for his young son and his son's drug addicted mother,
a woman James has no intention of marrying.

Many pew dwellers write James off.

They say he got what he deserved when he rebelled against his Christian heritage and sinned.

But, thank God, Jesus doesn’t give up that quickly.

He rescues us from our mistakes and calls us to repentance.
 

Jesus also protects us from our own good intentions.

Joni Maher attends the party with one goal, to destroy the curse of her virginity.

Today’s society portrays innocence as a weakness, but God says it is a treasure.

How can we fault young girls for giving themselves away,

when we haven’t taught them the value of their bodies?

While we give them a list of dos and don’ts,

 the world whispers lies in their ears.

 Satan seduces them with promises of beauty and temporary love.
 

Yes, the novels I write are full of sin.
 

“…But where sin abounded, grace did much more abound:” Romans 5:20

They are also full of the convicting presence of God, His mercy, His grace,
and the awesome power of the Holy Ghost.

Why?
 
Jesus is more than a band aid. He can handle the tough issues.
The ones we encounter in real life., not the façade we wear to church.
Real people are tempted. And real people need the blood of Jesus,
magnified by the Holy Ghost to overcome those temptations.

 

Let's Talk!

I'm guest hosting with Parker J Cole

on WLUV Radio tonight @ 6pm.

Join us as we discuss

Denominational Divides in Christian publishing,

Why I chose to Indie Publish,

and writing a fast rough draft.

Let's Talk!

 

http://www.blogtalkradio.com/wluvradio/2013/07/09/cross-wars--denominational-divides

 

 

Leave a blog comment to win one of two copies

of the first book in The Whatever Series.

Whatever He Wants

Second Edition

(July, 10, 2013)

 

 

 

www.empoweredpublicationsinc.com

 

Foot Washing - A personal Testimony

Being new to the Pentecostal domination I love to hear testimonies of brush arbors and six-week tent revivals. Fire running through the rafters. Goiters falling off. But foot washings? Not something I aspired to do. Who wants to wash someone’s dirty nasty feet? Thank God it is not required anymore. Or is it?

 

One Sunday, instructed by our Pastor the adult Sunday school teacher deviated from curriculum and taught on communion. Her first question—What does communion mean to you?—prompted various answers. Ranging from the humorous (grape juice in a cup and a stale cracker) to the serious (check point - a time to reflect on the sacrifice Jesus made on the cross).

How could grape juice signify the blood? How can a stale cracker do justice to the broken body of Jesus? Our finite minds failed to grasp the full concept of communion. A pondering hush settle over the sanctuary.

Until a frail feminine voice from in the back said, “You know… used to be when we took communion… afterward… we’d have a foot washing.”

What? A foot washing? What did washing feet have to do with taking communion?

The elderly sister in the back quoted John 13:14 “If I then, your Lord and Master, have washed your feet; ye also ought to wash one another’s feet.” KJV

Pages quickly turned to John chapter thirteen. Led by our teacher, we we’re reminded that Jesus washed his disciples’ feet during the Passover supper. The first foot washing took place during the first communion. Although I knew both events occurred, I never realized they went hand-in-hand or hand-in-feet.

The class began to reminisce of foot washings in the past. And how the Holy Ghost moved in such services. Did I mention I love hearing about such things?

As the bell sounded indicating the end of Sunday school our teacher vowed to hold a communion/foot washing service during the adult class. All participating in the discussion agreed. We needed to have a foot washing sometime during the next few weeks.

But isn’t it great when God’s ideas supersede our own? Church services began. The choir sang. Before the pastor could begin his sermon people began to testify of the good things the Lord had done. The Holy Ghost gently breezed into the sanctuary. Conviction fell and the people, myself included, flooded the altars.

It’s impossible to describe the presence of the Lord. You either feel him or you don’t. His greatness surrounded me and I realized the smallness of myself in comparison. Dirty and unclean in my sinful nature, urgent for a cleansing, burdened for a foot washing, I prayed. The Holy Ghost whispered a vision of my Sunday school teacher washing my feet. I wanted to run for a basin of water but fear of disrupting the service held me in place. The urge intensified, yet I doubted. Did God want basins of water in his sanctuary or did I?

Our pastor discerning of the Holy Ghost spoke into the microphone. “The Holy Ghost just spoke to someone to get up and do something. Do it now, in the name of Jesus.”

Thank God for confirmation. In the fellowship hall two dishpans fell to the floor as I opened the cabinet. The words “one for the men and one for the women” whispered through my heart. Quickly (thinking only of myself and my need to be cleansed) I threw two dish cloths into the pans, tossed two towels over my shoulder, filled the pans, and hurried back to the sanctuary with one of them.

Miraculously not one drop of water sloshed over the side of the pans during the two trips to the sanctuary. The people praying in the altars didn’t notice the pans of water placed in front of the communion table. Two folding chairs from the fellowship hall completed the vision.

Back at my place in the altars, desperately praying for permission to sit in one of the chairs, a hand tapped my shoulder. With tears in her eyes, my Sunday school teacher pointed to one of the chairs. The pastor sat in the second chair removing his shoes as a male church member knelt waiting to wash his feet.

Anxiously wanting to experience something new in the Lord, I smiled and sat in the chair. But as my sister in Christ knelt down in front of me and lifted my foot in her hand, humiliation washed over me. Tears began to pour. Why should she be on the floor in her beautiful Sunday dress while I sat high above her in my ordinary one?

A trickle of water hit the top of my foot and the anointing flowed from the top of my head to the soles of my feet. I began to weep uncontrollably. My sister spoke in a heavenly language. As she bathed my feet, first one then the other, a semblance of the humiliation Christ felt hanging on the cross swept over me. Unworthy and unclean, I wanted to spring from the chair. Covering my face with my hands, I tried to hide. My voice mingled with hers as Christ’s love washed over me. In that moment, lost in the Holy Ghost, the depth of Christ sacrifice and his love for me became abundantly clear.

After she dried my feet, we quickly switched places. Bathing her feet, the privilege of being Christ’s servant hit me. I didn’t deserve to be here feeling his presence. I didn’t deserve to be a vessel. But yet, Christ saw fit to humble himself on a cross to lift me from the pit of sin and place me in a position to bring him glory.

The sweet mist of the Holy Ghost surrounded us both. Afterward we both stood worshipping and praising the Lamb. Two other women quickly took our place in the chair and pan of water. They too began to weep and groan in the Spirit. Others stood nearby with looks of longing on their faces. The men likewise spoke with tongues and wept as they bathed one another’s feet. As soon as the chairs were vacated they quickly filled. No one ran. No one shouted. None danced in the Spirit. Strong men wept. Tongues were spoken. In the atmosphere of Jehovah, I wondered if my brothers and sisters felt the awe of the cross or the glory of his resurrection as I did.

 

Today, I still love to hear about the good old days. But I’m glad I experienced the humbling power of a foot washing first hand. How ironic that while elevated in the chair, I was humbled, but while kneeling, the privileges of serving was made real to me.

My finite mind could not understand how grape juice, a stale cracker, and a basin of water represented the sacrifice of the cross. But the power of the Holy Ghost allowed my soul to commune with the humility and serving-love of my savior, the Lord Jesus Christ.                                               

~ Bridgett Henson

July 4th, 2013

HAPPY 4TH OF JULY