The Resolution for Women

by Priscilla Shirer

Even in the most justifiable form. That’s the phrase that sort of cut beneath the skin. Caused a noticeable flinch. Involuntary. Ouch. Most women don’t have trouble avoiding (or at least recognizing the problem with) the conspicuously evil things, the outright no-no’s. It’s those undercover, low-key matters, the ones that cloak themselves in the guise of entertainment—those are the ones that hook us. They’re unobtrusive. Quiet. Too comfortable and familiar, really, to be asked to leave. Just there. Justifiable.

  Yet when seen in the stark black-and-white of a resolution list like this, they strangely lose their cover and camouflage. Many of the women running their finger along the page suddenly found themselves yanking it back, as if brushing against a hot iron. The burn in their fingertips matched with an eerie chill of conviction down their backs. Seemed like a good time to put these papers away or at least move on to something less painful, less penetrating.

  No doubt, this point of resolution calls for an intimate, personal, introspective look at what’s going on in our hearts and homes. It touches on some of those allowances we make behind closed doors, in the quiet of our dens and living rooms, where laziness and leniency have been known to hang around after dinner and stay up into the wee hours. That’s why, honestly, it often requires a resolution like this before we recognize that these things we’ve been sanctioning with our time and attention are a glaring contradiction of who we are and what we say we believe.

  Once the shock wore off, my group of friends and I agreed. With our lives standing exposed beneath the spotlight of this resolution, out came a parade of confessions about the television shows we’ve watched, the novels we’ve lost ourselves in, the magazines that have laced our coffee tables, the music we’ve pumped through our headphones and car speakers.

  Willing to dig a little deeper, one sister awoke to the fact that the fun, friendly connection she was maintaining with an old flame was carrying an undercurrent of emotional infidelity and potential disaster. Another came clean about a stash of wine she deceptively kept in the back of a hallway closet and frequently pulled out to overindulge in when no one else was around.

  No big deal? Easily justifiable?

  But each of these whispered cases of compromise was, on varying levels, dulling and muting the spiritual senses of every woman who admitted to them. Even if just a little bit, these choices were enough to cause a nudge of conscience. If ignored and allowed, they represented even more—a deliberate refusal to grant God access to this area of life, to this two-hour time slot, to this understandable indulgence.

  What starts with a sliver becomes a river.

  Obviously a lot of the lifestyle choices exhibited and lauded on this show or in that book are things we would never agree with in person, activities we would never engage in. And while it would be legalistic and impersonal to tell people exactly what types of shows they should or shouldn’t watch, exactly what kinds of movies and books they should or shouldn’t like, we all know the difference between valuing honest discourse and being entertained by sin. We know when we’re not just observing the grittiness of real-life issues but are finding it personally provocative, enjoyable, almost (almost?) desirable. Instead of being repulsed by certain behaviors and grieved at the lies being foisted on our generation, we find ourselves more accepting of them, willing to watch and laugh, considering them suitable viewing with a side of popcorn.

  And what does that make us but the hypocrites we never wanted to be. Discouraging one thing in public while finding it addictively exciting in private.

  This speaks to the essence of integrity.

  Integrity means being the same underneath as we are on the outside. Unimpaired, whole, and sound. It’s what the engineer is intent on achieving by designing a bridge that not only looks like it can handle the traffic flowing across it but is architecturally able to support the weight of it, day after day, year after year. Structural integrity.

  That’s what we’re after.

  And that’s why this resolution is not for the flippant and faint of heart.

  You don’t just slap something together, basing your design on whatever feels good at the moment, building with whatever materials are readily available. Those who are careful about structural integrity build with the long-term goal of being blameless before God and others, not just on lightly traveled Sundays but at peak hours, all week long.

  This is serious.

  I don’t mind admitting, sister, this resolution has caused me to step back and look again at my own life. Don’t feel like you’re the only one whose toes are feeling stepped on here. I, too, want to be a woman of distinction, marked by God’s Spirit. I desire to be the wife, mother, and woman God created me to become. I want my spiritual ears clear to hear His voice, my spiritual eyes unblurred to His presence. I want to be here to receive the peace His presence can bring to my home. I want to experience His power pulsating through our family and ministry.

  But I know this type of practical, day-to-day blessing will never coexist with some of the lewd, lascivious nonsense that’s spouted from today’s most popular channels, reading materials, and media portals. I must realize, as the mother of evangelist John Wesley is said to have written to her son:

  Whatever weakens your reason, impairs the tenderness of your conscience, obscures your sense of God, or takes off the relish of spiritual things—in short, whatever increases the strength and authority of your body over your mind—that thing is sin to you, however innocent it may be in itself.1

  So we must decide—you must decide . . .

  Which do we want more?

  God’s best, or our personal favorites?

  Maybe this was the type of bare-bones, bottom-line question that drove King David to resolve so seriously about living a life of integrity:

  I will be careful to live a blameless life—when will you come to help me? I will lead a life of integrity in my own home. I will refuse to look at anything vile and vulgar. . . . I will have nothing to do with them. (Psalm 101:2–3 NLT)

  This was not the norm for the kings of ancient nations. Powerful and highly unaccountable, these monarchs felt free to live as they pleased anywhere they went, especially within the confines of their personal living quarters. Unchecked. Unbridled. No one had the right to tell them what to do. King David, however, wanted to be different, and he expressed several of the commitments he employed to help him achieve his goal—ones that we can make as well.

  1. Have no tolerance for evil. “I will refuse to look at anything vile and vulgar,” he wrote (v. 3). He was unwilling for anything that went against the standards and statutes of God to be paraded before him as entertainment. He promised not to engage in any activity that could slowly, progressively cause him to be desensitized to sin.

  2. Closely monitor the type of people you allow to influence you. “I hate all who deal crookedly; I will have nothing to do with them. I will reject perverse ideas and stay away from every evil” (vv. 3–4). No one who was slanderous, proud, or lacking in integrity would be able to live in close relationship with him. He was not about to let their poor character and counsel become a loud, persistent voice in his head or discourage him from the upright path.

  3. Recognize your need for divine help. “I will be careful to live a blameless life—when will you come to help me?” (v. 2). David knew he could never keep the demands of this resolution in his own strength. Only with God’s empowerment and encouragement did he stand a chance against the enemy’s wiles and his own fleshly tendencies. Never expect that you can recalibrate the frequency settings on your life without lots and lots of God’s help, grace, and shepherding. He will be sure to alert you to changes that need to be made and then will eagerly empower you to carry them out.

  These are extreme resolutions, but truth be told, I don’t think I’ve ever met a woman of godly, admirable character—one who in my moments of clearest, most serious thinking I longed to pattern my life after—who was not a person of extreme action and resolutions. Those who enjoy the extra meas
ure of God’s blessing and favor, who truly navigate their lives well, are those who discipline themselves in ways that many of us would consider borderline ridiculous. But like David, they’ve found it necessary to be as extreme in one direction as the culture has chosen to be in the other.

  Honestly, I’m not meaning to thrust a cloak of guilt around your shoulders or to legalistically stamp out every freedom God has given you to enjoy in life. Not everything that bothers one believer is necessarily forbidden for all. Just because some wouldn’t consider it “good” doesn’t mean it’s worthy of being “slandered” (Romans 14:16). But as you consider your own structural soundness, would you say it’s able to bear the weight of your Christian profession? Would it hold up if some of your fellow church members arrived at your door unannounced?

  Are you who you claim to be?

  If this has been an ongoing question and dilemma for you, as it is for most of us—for all of us at one time or another—then do this: commit to being sensitive and responsive to any conviction the Spirit may be impressing on your heart right now in regard to a particular pursuit, decision, or activity. Listen to His promptings. Don’t ignore His leadings. Be willing to change your temporary wants for His much better alternatives as He directs you that way through His personal knowledge of you and what He wants to accomplish in you. His goal is not to steal your fun but to position you as a clean, pure, available recipient of His best, most fulfilling blessings.

  By His power you can resolve.

  By His strength you can walk blamelessly.

  By His might you can expect to be a woman who pursues in the dark what she proclaims in the light.

  • In light of what John Wesley’s mother wrote to him (page 149), what do you participate in right now that . . .

  weakens your reason.

  impairs the tenderness of your conscience.

  obscures your sense of God.

  takes the relish off spiritual things.

  The Three Percent Difference

  Be on your guard, so that your minds are not dulled. (Luke 21:34)

  Rat poison.

  I’ve never really paid much attention to it . . . until today, when I found out from a friend that most varieties are made up of 97 percent food and only three percent poison. These products lure those nasty rodents by the smell and taste of something they actually like, a delectable treat that feels good going down. But along with a tasty meal, they also ingest trace amounts of fatal toxins that are enough to end their reign of trash-induced terror. Rats die (and aren’t we glad they do) because of a small thread of poison laced within an enticing serving of food.

  Three percent.

  Couldn’t this also describe the way our virtue is stolen? Our integrity compromised? Our hearts hardened? Our spirits desensitized to the things of the Lord? Lured in by something seemingly harmless—an enjoyable form of entertainment, the camaraderie of an initially innocent relationship—but then . . .

  Poison.

  Strategically hidden, craftily disguised. Underneath the surface, just below radar. We lick our lips and go about our business, thinking that everything’s going fine. It may take days, maybe weeks, before we begin to notice. But eventually our spiritual organs start to fail. Our passion quells. Our sensitivity and discernment wane. We lose our gag reflex.

  We’re dying a slow death.

  Three percent at a time.

  You’ve seen this in other people too. Perhaps a celebrity, sports star, or political figure, obviously not meaning to destroy their lives and careers, but who chased a particular pleasure or experience and ended up in the crosshairs of the national tabloid camera. Exposed, laid bare, melting in the spotlight of unwanted attention and unintended consequences, they’re a picture of the damage that three little percentage points can inflict. You’re shocked they’d do this, that they’d throw their lives away for so little.

  But is this something the enemy is doing with you? What has he cleverly used to seduce you into a web woven too tightly for you to escape, just the way he designed it? Where has he hidden even the smallest dots and deposits of poison, undetected until you suddenly realize the terminal effect it’s having on you?

  Even on the ones you love.

  I’ll never forget sitting down to watch the season premiere of a television series I had really enjoyed and kept up with during its opening run the year before. I’d been pleasantly surprised at how clean and uncorrupted it was, and I’d eagerly waited for the second season to begin in the fall. On the night it was set to debut, I sat my three-year-old on the sofa beside me. Settled in. Clicked it on. Just in time to catch the preview highlights, ready to be enthralled. But in less than fifteen seconds, the screen lit up with a raucous sexual scene that took me completely by surprise. Frantically, I snatched at the remote, fumbled for the right button to change the channel. But it was too late. That split-second image had been seared into my little boy’s eyes and mind. How could I have let that happen . . . to him?

  Now let me say that even when we’re trying as hard as we can, our kids or even we can hear things, see things, and be exposed to things that we wish they hadn’t. Certainly when we’re not being diligent in the integrity department, of course, we make it that much easier for the window of polluting possibilities to swing open. Once it’s done, however—whether by the logical consequences of our actions or by pure accident—we can’t undo everything. But we can and should pray that God in His mercy and favor would thwart the Enemy from turning these moments of weakness into the makings of a stronghold in their lives. We can boldly ask that any potential, long-term harm and confusion be covered by Christ’s blood and dissolved before it takes root and becomes any kind of hindrance to them. Thankfully, Christ’s power can cover that.

  Yet the fact that something like this can so easily happen is one reason I think Paul went to such lengths to tell us that “among you there must not be even a hint of sexual immorality, or of any kind of impurity, or of greed, because these are improper for God’s holy people” (Ephesians 5:3 NIV). Even a slight, indirect glance. Even a trace or suggestion. Even that much is too much for God’s people—we who have been made holy through His deliberate act of grace, and who bear the responsibility to protect the tender hearts and minds of those we dearly love.

  Three percent is where it starts.

  Who knows where it might lead?

  And while the first part of Paul’s admonishment speaks of “sexual immorality”—a spiritual poison that permeated the culture in which Paul lived—his use of the catchall phrase “any kind of impurity” broadens the scope to all the other polluting activities that need to be completely foreign to the believer’s lifestyle. These, he says, have no place in our lives. None. He knew what “even a hint” could do. “A little yeast,” he once said, “leavens the whole lump of dough” (Galatians 5:9).

  So if you’re serious about this, I’m going to suggest that you do more than just make this promise to God and to yourself. Make it to (and with) others as well. Because try as we might to wage our own integrity battles, this kind of living requires accountability. It just does. In a culture saturated with opportunities to be swayed in opposition to purity, the woman resolved to integrity must be girded about with other sisters who are walking with her, holding her accountable to a holy standard.

  I am grateful to the Lord for giving me friendships that provide this accountability framework and network for me. Several of us women enjoy getting together to share one another’s lives. We talk. We ask questions. We laugh. We cry. We don’t just commiserate. We hold ourselves and one another up to the counsel of God’s Word.

  On occasion, when we’ve gone to see a movie, even while sitting there thoroughly supplied with Coke and popcorn, one of us has grown uncomfortable with the direction the film is taking. Caught in a wave of conviction, sometimes I’ve been the one who’s needed to slip out for a while. Sometimes we’ve all come to the same conclusion and left as a pack in mid-reel. I don’t know how to thank God e
nough for friends who don’t make me feel embarrassed for being spiritually sensitive, who provide me a place where my resolution to live pure before Him is never under pressure, never a point of ridicule, never ganged up against. Our willingness to support one another helps us remain strong in our promises.

  We need this.

  We can’t make it without this.

  Because it doesn’t take a lot of poison to take us down. Three percent is all it takes. Three percent can kill.

  But by spreading it out among a whole group of us who are constantly helping each other whittle that 3 percent down to 2, to 1, till it’s not “even a hint,” we’re able to stand strong to our feet again. By living our lives openly before others, we women—both single and married—allow ourselves to be searched and known by another who has our best interest in mind, someone who has a nose for spotting poison. If you don’t have an accountability relationship like this, make it a matter of prayer. I believe the Lord will honor your desire and will answer your request. He wants you blessed and pure and peacefully enjoying a life that is fully pleasing and honoring to Him.

  That’s the kind of life that’s safe for you, safe for the whole family.

  I’m 103 percent sure of it.

  • Is there an area of your life that you’d be embarrassed or ashamed for others to find out about?

  • How would a deeper, more vulnerable, more comprehensive type of accountability be of use to you in maintaining a high level of integrity? What would that look like, and would you be willing to submit to it?

  From Strength to Strength

  There’s a gorgeous piece of property behind a neighbor’s house where my boys and I love to play. Thankfully, my friend never minds us showing up and helping ourselves. The thick brush and wide, tall trees seem to close it off from intruders. But my boys are crafty and inquisitive. They’ve found a hidden pathway just up the perimeter that gets us around the daunting tree line. Entering at this narrow, weathered trail, we can lose ourselves in the curvy adventure of this wooded wonderland, embarking on another timbered escapade. We soon turn into explorers—building forts, ducking under fallen branches, and hiding from hostile enemies in little coves.