an endangered population

With sagging eyelids, I finished my overnight shift and stopped by Meijer to pick up a 9V battery for the ever-nagging smoke alarm. During the months in which the sun rises early, it is not uncommon to see office folk on the road early. I was struggling to provide the motor skills necessary to remove my badge and grab my wallet, when I looked towards the Meijer exit. Making her way back to her car was one of the most beautiful women I've seen in a long time.

A 20-something with a noble face and dark curls dangling to the middle of her back, she walked unassumingly with a modest glow. She wore an appropriately fitted black top with a youthful white skirt that fell to her ankles. For a brief moment, I admired this rare occurrence of God's beauty manifested. As she approached her car, I caught her glance back in my peripheral vision without a hint of affirmation or judgment, and she moved along.

What began in admiration soon transitioned to a state of grief. My grief was not personal: I believe the quick, mutual recognition of one another was all God planned to offer us this morning -- a humble reminder that His greater beauty needs not flirt nor flaunt. No, I attribute my grief to the rarity of such a demonstration: a woman that carries the dignity of a princess with the innocence and wonder of a child.

Have you ever known the hope, grace, and faith of an individual without so much as a conversation? This is a possession of the pure at heart. The pure understand both elements of their humility: the God so mighty that they shrink in comparison, and the relationship with Him that defines their infinite worth. This acknowledgement is not one of boasting, but in recognition of identity in their Creator. A woman that recognizes her value does not offer herself to the masses or to the persistent. She welcomes and encourages the man that worships her Maker.

I remember feeling like a wide-eyed child in a candy store during my first year at Bethel. There were plenty of women trying to be noticed, but there were also a disproportionate number of the pure at heart. Having never understood this intent for creation while in high school, I easily took it for granted. I developed friendships with beautiful women, and I never had to concern myself with the sting of lust or a word of temptation. They were considerate for their own purity, but more surprisingly for ours as men.

I'm not sure if this reflects the time or the place. Perhaps Christian campuses still uphold the value of purity, and I have moved into a darker world; my last years in youth ministry would seem to indicate otherwise. Perhaps culture itself has shifted to impurity for the sake of fashion or attention. Whatever the case, it's gone. But now, with so rare an occurrence, I feel the need to pray for its return. The worst kind of loss is the one I hadn't noticed was missing.