Purity After Promiscuity: What It Really Looks Like

It looks a lot like tug-o-war. 

Sometimes, it’s running to the nearest bathroom stall in the middle of a night out because you’re so tempted to give in. It’s clasping both your hands tightly into a prayer as you whisper to the wind—God, help me, for my flesh seems to be winning.

It's the few seconds pause when responding to an ex-hook up via chat, and the back and forth typing and deleting because you're not sure if you want to engage or ignore.

It’s the stewing of both anxiety and desire at the bottom of your gut because you know you have to run but you’re enjoying the moment, no matter how sick it is in your head.

It’s your soul wrestling against your flesh—
Danah, flee. You know you aren’t strong enough. Danah, stay. It’s been a while.

It’s the black dog and white dog waging war inside of you and you fearing, because in the end, someone’s gotta win.

It looks a lot like self-doubt.

It looks like long stares in front of the mirror, your eyes tracing every detail of your outfit, thinking you’re pretty much invisible because your neckline is too high. It’s questioning why you threw out your mini skirts and chest-baring dresses when they were instant head-turners. It’s how your bright light of confidence gets dimmed almost in an instant, as you wonder why the guy you were engaging conversation with all of a sudden stopped responding the moment a skinnier, scantily clad woman sat next to him. It’s the cracking of your voice when someone asks you what’s the ring on your left hand for, and you coyly tell them it’s a purity ring.

It’s uncertainty swirling around your head, asking if modesty is truly attractive, when the entire world shouts otherwise. It’s interrogating yourself why you’re even pursuing this, when society and culture says it’s 'womanhood suicide' when you don’t use your sexuality for your gain.

It’s prolonged internal dialogues during quiet mornings—God’s got this. Singleness is a gift.
It’s affirming yourself you lack no good thing in your solo season because you doubt if there’s still a man out there who will respect your boundaries and rejoice in your chastity. It’s imagining what that relationship looks like. It’s imagining writing your vows and sealing it with a kiss.

Sometimes, it’s daydreaming. Sometimes, it’s reality check.

It looks a lot like compromise.

It looks like tears-stained pillows in the middle of the night when you’ve stumbled in your sin of lust. It feels like deep sorrow as you drown in dubiousness if repentance is truly enough. It’s late-night, gut-wrenching despair after you click on a link you know you shouldn’t have. It’s the feeling of hollowness after you’ve succumbed to your flesh, knowing you’ve satisfied its appetite but still feeling hungry after.

It’s knowing you’re never going to be perfect, but you’re still going to keep obeying anyway.

It looks a lot like hope.

It’s knowing that tomorrow is a new day and you have a clean, fresh slate to start over again. It’s reading verses and memorizing scripture because you aim to beat temptation the next time it knocks on your soul’s door. It’s understanding that the call of sin will still ring, but you no longer have to answer it. It’s believing that God fulfils His promises to His children, and since He says He is the Author and Perfecter of faith, you trust He will pull you through. It’s looking to Christ over and over and over again despite the strong desire to put the spotlight on your weakness and shortcomings.

It looks a lot like grace.

It’s the final breath of your crying and the deep sigh of relief it brings. It’s calling your guy friend in the middle of the night who gives you the harsh reality of your wretchedness and then reminds you of God’s mercy and forgiveness right after. It’s the sense of empowerment to keep trying and to keep picking yourself up because you know full well that even though you stumble, you can choose to stumble towards God. It’s your mentor reminding you of who you are and whose you are via messenger call, because she’s 6,000 miles away. It’s the warm sunlight caressing your face as it wakes you, knowing that you have another day to live and another opportunity to worship God. It's knowing that reconciliation with Christ is real and true.

It’s the patience you extend to a girl friend who keeps running to you about the same boy issues because you know you’ve only been extended patience to as well.

It’s the joy that transcends all understanding because thank God, it’s not about you.

It looks a lot like freedom.

It’s the internal high fives when you decide to say yes to His prodding instead of saying no to temptation (and knowing that there's a big difference). It’s the appreciation of good, godly men in your life with no malice or prurience. It’s enjoying warm, brotherly hugs and feeling grateful for the friendship they give. It’s the ability to choose prayer in the middle of uninvited wild thoughts and fantasies because you choose not to feed the lust inside of you. It’s choosing to honor God and your brothers in modesty because you know that you’re more than a body and you don’t need to be validated that way. It’s living out the reality that you are already redeemed from porn addiction, masturbation, and promiscuity in all aspects because of what Christ did on the cross.

It’s dancing a little jig of praise when you remember how far you’ve come in your commitment to purity, because you understand that true freedom is not being able to do whatever you want, but it’s being able to freely choose what God wants for you, no matter how the world sees you.

In the end, it's all about honoring God with all of you, because He is Love, and He is Truth.