Why I'm Not Waiting for Mr. Right

If you were raised like me, you were raised to believe that women are created to be helpers... helpers to God, their husband, children, orphans, widows. Helpers. But ultimately helpers to their husbands. Husbands. We learn to cook, clean, raise children, housekeep, shop, do laundry, etc. etc. etc. with the expectation that one day will be able to fulfill these duties for our husbands.

But then I look around and I see a lot of single girls in their early/late twenties who are still waiting for their man to show up. "Houston, we have a problem..." The problem is not the lack of older guys, or the lack of "mature" guys, or the lack of financially stable guys, or the lack of tall guys (*hint hint*), or even just the lack of guys in general. Let me explain.

Many young Christian women are raised from the beginning to belive that their ultimate purpose in life is to serve a husband. While this is a righteous calling, it is not who we are called to be as Christian women. Being a wife is not our end goal. Or, rather, it shouldn't be.

 

Hold on, don't freak out. Let me explain by asking you a question.

Who are we called to be? As single Christian women, who are we called to be biblically?

We are called to be noble in character, worthy of the confidence others have in us, always doing good, productive with our time, cooks, frugal with money, willing to do (and capable of doing) hard work, generous to the poor, putting thought into and planning for the future. Striving to bring honor to our families, strong and dignified, optimistic, wise and willing to give faithful instruction to others, not remiss or idle, cherished by children, and fearing the LORD not putting stock in external beauty or vanity. (Pr. 31:10-31)

I was raised to believe that it is important for a me to be these things so that I can be a helper to my future husband... noble, so he is not scorned. Productive, so he is not required to do housework. Cook so he has something to eat... etc. However, I contend that while these teachings are not unfounded biblically, women should not strive to be these things solely for the purpose of preparing for marriage. While the Proverbs 31 woman is married, she was these things before she was married. For God is calling men to seek such women for their wives.

Let me say it again. She had these qualities before marriage. Every one of those things listed are characteristics which God outlines for a righteous woman. These things are worthy of recognition. Girls, not so we can catch a husband. So we can further the Kingdom of God.

Let me explain further.

I am currently reading a book that redefines our approach to romantic relationships, and it brought up a very poignant question (which spawned the conception of this paper). If we are seeking a spouse to complete us, to be our "better half," to be the "yin to our yang," aren't we basically telling God that He is not enough for us?  We are still yearning for something more, that thing that is missing... this emptiness we expect to be filled by a flawed and sinful man ("...for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God").

Let's think about this for a minute. It's good to have a life dream, a goal, something to set your sights on. I know for me, it's motherhood. Nothing beats the feeling of a baby falling asleep in my arms. Nothing makes me happier than that baby smiling at me, or hearing that girgly little laugh... chasing down the fleet-footed one year old who is headed for the stairs and hearing the first perfectly read sentence ever to pass that child's lips. That is what I want. That is what I believe God is calling me to do. Goals are good, but goals talk about the what, not the who.

Who do I want to be? I want to be a woman who is noble, righteous, strong, frugal, kind, generous, cherished by children... I want to be God's servant, the hand that reaches out to the poor, the orphans, the needy. I want to be WHO I am, and WHO I strive to be every day, whether I am married or not. Getting married will not complete me anymore than buying a 2015 electric blue Corvette Stingray will make me a better driver. I have to work hard to become who I desire to be, who God calls me to be. Then, if at some point, a man enters the picture, I hope to be who God calls him to search for in a wife.

My point in all this? I believe many of us were raised with a flawed mindset. I am hundreds of different things – I am a homeschooler, I am an artist, a singer, dancer, sister, daughter, friend, reader, writer, cook, dishwasher, an archer, movie watcher, and a hopelessly curious soul. I am made up of bad memories, reoccurring nightmares, countless bad decisions, and the source of many peoples' pain. I am all these things and so much more... because WHO we are cannot truly be defined. Who we are can never be wrapped up neatly into a list that can be handed to someone. And who we are definitely does not hinge on future aspirations. Who we are is defined every day by the decisions we make, the words we speak, the things we laugh at, and the way we approach life.

Not being married does not make you any less powerful in the hands of God. Not having children does not make your years of child-rearing training a waste. Because whether you're chasing a one-year-old that you brought into this world, or the one year old of the exhausted mother next door who just needed one hour to take a shower and do her hair before her husband comes home, you are being who you were made to be.

Don't squander this time of singleness. It's precious. Learn to drive your 1990s Toyota pickup, so that when the keys of that electric blue Corvette are handed to you, you're not afraid to drive it because you're confident that you've done everything you can to become the best driver possible.

NaNoWriMo and What Resulted

Just as many other writers did (and are still doing) this month, I participated in National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo).  My goal was to reach 50,000 words before Thanksgiving, but things went well and I reached my goal at 1:30am on Thursday, November 19th.  I am terribly thankful to have reached my goal... so I decided to write some more!  :)  I'd love to tell you a little bit about the story that took up all my free time for the past 20 days.

Oh, and by the way, I hope to finish it before the end of November, but we'll see if that happens.

But now on to the fun part.  My NaNo Novel last year focused on Kellen (you can read about it on the Books page above).  This year, I focused on Kellen's sister, Jenna, in the story Jenna.  (I'm not very original with titles as you can tell... but there's time to work on that.)   Here's a summery of Jenna's story in her own words. 

 

My name is Jenna Lynn Fayette and I'm a lover of many random things... old movies, new games, dry humor, and practically anything that makes me laugh or think outside the box.  My story unfolds on an evening, just like any other.  At least, that's what I thought, until I descended the stairs after my evening shower to find both my parents lying dead on the floor in the living room of my family's old Denver townhome. 

 

Needless to say, that was the last day of my life as I knew it.  After a blur of florescent lights, questioning, IDing mug shots, and trying not to think about the horror I'd seen just hours before, I agreed to being enrolled in the National Witness Protection Program, also known as WITSEC (for Witness Security, I guess).  My death would be faked and an empty coffin would be buried beside my parent's in the cemetery not far from our house.  Friends and family would attend the funeral... it would be sad, them thinking me dead, but I knew faking my death was the only option.  

 

But first I had to testify.  Until the trial, they told me I would be kept at a safehouse in the Rocky Mountains, protected by four deputy marshals. I had no idea what I was in for.  Not that things were terribly different than I expected.  The days were long, the food became monotonous (when it was edible - it all depended on who cooked it), and the company....well, quite honestly, that's what surprised me the most. 

 

Jason, married with an adorable daughter, offered me the only shred of conversational entertainment in the entire safehouse.  We joked, insulted each other, and warred at our favorite childhood board games.  I'll remember him forever.  

 

Next were Pete and lane, and I lump them together because they are practically clones of each other.  Mum is the only way to describe them.  Mum and dull.  They possessed no entertainment value whatsoever.  As you can see, the paragraph describing them both is quite short. 

 

Lastly, Agent Tael Dante (and I use his full titled name because it describes his character better, perhaps, than I can).  I call him Man in Black, partially because I'm a stickler for old movies and partially because he never wears anything but black.  He intrigues me, possibly too much for my own good.  He seems to me a walking contradiction, a paradox, my friend and my enemy at the same time.  So, of course, me being who I am, I set about unveiling the mysteries that surround this altogether mysterious man.  

 

The day of the trial comes and goes, but I never make it to the courthouse.  Instead, I'm whisked away to another hideout in the mountains... however, in contrast, this one is not safe, a house, nor am I taken there with my consent.  The day goes from long to torturous in length.  Mostly, I just want to die, but no matter how hard I try, I can't.  Tael won't let me. 

 

 

That's pretty much all that can be said without exposing spoilers, so I'll end the summery there.  However, I will leave the first chapter here, in case you're interested in taking a peak at Jenna's world.

 

 

JENNA - CHAPTER ONE

“Look at you, so dashing and beautiful.” It would have sounded better if it wasn't her own voice saying it, but the frizzy haired, half-drowned looking rat of a twenty year old needed all the encouragement she could get. “With a little work...” she drew a brush through her wet hair, “you will take Mr. Darcy's breath away.”

Leaning close to the mirror she investigated a suspicious redness on her forehead. “Ah, perhaps a bit of apple cider vinegar will be needed on that bambino of a pimple.” Not that it mattered much... Mr. Darcy wouldn't be looking at her, only Elizabeth.

“Well, at least Rick Blaine needs a new leading lady.” Then mimicking Humphrey Bogart's voice as best she could, “Here's looking at you, kid.”

Sighing with resignation, she finished taming her mop of thick almost-black hair. Casablanca was an option for tomorrow, but she already promised her parents that Pride and Prejudice, the five hour version, would finally play in their living room theatre tonight. No use upsetting the public for a small childhood infatuation.

Glancing at her bathrobe hanging on the back of the door she twisted up her face. Bathrobe or blanket? “I'm already dressed.” Though a t-shirt and jeans didn't really flatter her figure, it was almost as comfy as a robe. “Blanket it is, then.”

Her father often complained about the extended length of the Pride and Prejudice, but Jenna shook her head as she descended the stairs. She whispered, “Too much of a good thing is probably just the right amount.” Yes, she talked to herself all the time, but she didn't want to worry her parents. Mental stability had very little to do with who one talked to, despite what most people believed.

As she rounded the landing halfway between the first story and the second story in their old-fashioned Denver town home, she expected to see her parents sitting on the couch waiting for her.

First her eyes caught two large men, tattoos shadowed their faces.  Her feet stuck on the stairs.

Blood. That's what she saw next. Lots of it. The man kneeling beside the couch stood, an eight inch long knife dripped blood like a leaky faucet leaks water.

God, no. This wasn't happening. Her father lay across the couch, her mother on the floor at the second man's feet. Blood poured from gashes in their necks.

Three seconds passed, maybe less. Fear, the kind that lends you wings, gripped her insides. It was too late, the men already saw her.

Run!

Her feet fled, but her mind stuck on the image of her parents. A single bound carried her over the banister and onto the tile floor of the dining room. Four more steps to the kitchen door. Three, she was off the porch. Right? Left?

The men pounded behind her but she barely heard them over the thundering of her heart. Across the grass, the porch lights faded as she plunged further into the yard. Darkness reached out to her. She dashed between the fence and the shed, using a wooden crate to help her over the six foot privacy fence that hid them from their neighbors.

The men's voices faded into the night as she ran. She didn't know where she was going, but she didn't stop until she no longer recognized any of the houses around her. Her muscles cramped and her lungs burned as she slowed to a walk.

An Elm tree stood between two houses, shading the ground from moonlight. Jenna stopped beneath it, listening for the first time. Crickets. The sound of distant sirens.

Sinking onto the grass, she leaned against the trunk of the tree as she hugged her knees tightly. The air wasn't cold, but she shook uncontrollably. Her mind was blank. Somehow, not even the image of her parent's mangled bodies found its way there. Nothing. Simply the silence of the night, the wailing of the sirens, the blackness before her. Nothing else.

By the time she stood again, her joints ached from her position. How long had she sat there?

The sirens fell silent sometime between then and now, all was peaceful again. She felt trapped, knowing the horror that faced her back in her living room but unable to prevent her feet from taking her there. It was like a magnet drew her back to the scene that was her worst nightmare made a reality. Bile soured her mouth at the thought of what stood before her as she stopped in front of her house. Yellow crime tape stretched out into the front yard, emergency vehicles took up the rest of the street. Red, white, blue flashed constantly, dizzyingly. Floodlights lit up the house like a dancer on stage.

Her eyes drifted and stuck to the front window of the living room where they remained.

She couldn't even feel her feet, her body was completely numb. How was she still standing? Her eyes couldn't move. There. That's where her entire life lay, bleeding out on the carpet. Disappearing from life like snow melting in spring. Nothing left but a muddy mess. Sticky red mud.

“Miss? Miss, are you alright?” A hand touched her shoulder and she flinched. The man was tall, dressed in a black uniform, a peaked cap set precisely on his head. “Are you alright?” He repeated his question, but she didn't need him to.

Glancing back at the house, she folded her arms tightly over her chest, as if that would keep her heart from breaking. A deep breath – the night air chafed her throat. “Yes.” Her voice was strong, fake.

“Are you Jenna?” He spoke carefully so as not to scare her, though she didn't spook easily.

“I am.” With a blink and a hard swallow, she turned toward the officer. You can do this.

“Will you come to the station with me? I have some questions for you.” He motioned towards a squad car parked across the street.

Looking down at her bare feet, she nodded. Where else would she go? “My shoes... they're inside the front door...”

He nodded quickly, reaching out and taking her elbow. “I'll get them for you. Would you please climb into the car?”

Another deep breath. A step off the curb, the magnet was reversed now. Walking this way was hard.

The officer matched her pace, allowing her slow tight steps to carry her across the street. She climbed in and soon after, her shoes were handed to her. She half expected them to be covered with blood, too, but they weren't. Not a drop. Not even a freaking speck.

She leaned back against the seat as the drone of the wheels against the asphalt hummed constantly. The darkness covered her like a blanket. Warm. Safe.

The next several hours blurred together. She told the story at least a dozen times. Blood, tattoos, the knife... she ran. She ran. How she hated that fact. Florescents flooded every inch of the police station with yellow light. People spoke incessantly. With every recounting, the blood turned redder. Her head ached. Her heart lay in pieces at the pit of her stomach.

She just kept remembering the night, the darkness, warm, safe.

Finally, darkness came with a blanket that smelled strangely like sourdough. But it came. She settled on a short couch in a back room. With the door closed, only a slice of light peeked beneath. Her eyes wouldn't close, so she didn't force them. The darkness was enough. The quiet, though she could still hear lots of activity beyond the door. At least it didn't involve her.

Witness Protection was being arranged. “WITSEC.” She whispered the word to herself. Somehow, somewhere along the way, she had agreed to give up her old life for a new one. Whatever that meant. A safehouse until the trial, and then a new life. What is left of my life to salvage? She never made many friends. The guys were too pompous and the girls too giggly. Her parents were her best friends. But now?

She rolled over and pressed her face against the cool leather of the couch back. Now, she would sleep. But sleep didn't come.

   

Why Are Mothers Worth Less In Society's Eyes?

Some of you know me well enough to know that I don't plan to go to college, others may have guessed, and the rest are hearing this for the first time. I'm very open about that fact and am comfortable with my decision. However, a lot of people don't understand, they struggle to grasp the reasoning behind this – my – thought processes of being a stay-at-home mom.

 

Just the other day, a young man told me, "It's none of my business, but I think you're really intelligent and I think you're doing yourself a disservice by not pursuing higher education."

Is he right? I've thought about his comment a lot. Oftentimes, when we're taught something from a very young age, we unconsciously lose the ability to think about it (and related subjects) objectively. I see it a lot both in society and homeschool circles. Knowing this, in order to be as objective as possible, it's important to start from the very beginning, back so far you're not sure you've ever been there before.

First of all, what gives our lives worth (notice I refrain from placing the worth directly on the individual as in most society, human life is automatically assumed to be "worth" something)? Some of the most common answers would be, religion, family, money, career, public service, and scholastic achievements. The question is then, why do we believe that these things give our lives worth? I believe I can safely divide the list into two categories.

Self-Fulfilling                                                                   Self-Sacrificing

*Scholastic Achievements                                             *Religion

*Career                                                                              *Family

*Money (and/or Possessions)                                      *Public Service

       

I think, herein lies the secret. It seems that society takes up the list on the left while Christian/homeschool circles wholeheartedly embrace the one on the right. At the root, this is where we differ... where I differ from the aforementioned young man.

In his eyes, if one does not spend hours upon hours writing papers, listening to lectures, and eventually gaining a piece of paper that says they've done so, than their life is somehow worth less than someone who does. Gaining knowledge through a structured system from an (oftentimes) biased set of people is an appropriate and possibly the only way to improve and apply oneself in order to become successful. Because, without scholastic achievements, one cannot get a worthwhile career, which in turn prevents one from earning large amounts of money. And in today's society, money and happiness are often thought to go hand in hand... you cannot have one without the other.

On the flipside (see the list on the right), religious (specifically Christian/homeschool) groups believe that true worth comes from servanthood. In the form of religion, you must recognize your overall significance (or insignificance) in relation to the bigger picture due to a higher power. With family, one must oftentimes sacrifice self in order to maintain healthy relationships with those one is related to (which includes choosing them over personal needs or desires). Finally, some people even add public service to this, which comes as a way to reach out even further to those who may not be receiving adequate amounts of personal care and love. This public service is not in lieu of but in addition to the others, coming alongside religion and family.

For the sake of clarity and brevity, I will stop there, though there are many more points that could be added to both sides of the argument.

 These two trains of thought both have pros and cons, and I believe a healthy balance is important. I will readily clarify that I do not have a problem with higher education, nor do I believe that it is wrong to go to college and get a degree. I believe that within the Will of God we are given significant freedom to make decisions based on our situations, tendencies, and position in life. However, at the same time, I do not believe that higher education is the answer to all of the problems we face now as a nation, especially as it is taught at community colleges and universities. What is the answer, then?

Each person must decide for themselves what they decide to make of their lives. What is most important to them? For some, it may be defending the rights of homeschoolers in court (HSLDA), becoming and RN or MD to heal people physically, or perhaps joining the military in order to preserve the rights and freedoms we still have in this country.

The first two examples require many years of schooling and can easily accrue large amount of debt.  The third simply requires a highschool diploma but years of dedication and sacrifice. Are some life-decisions, namely concerning career paths, more earth shaking than others? I would venture to say, only in the eye of the beholder. Where would we be without doctors, to heal not only citizens but also our military members? Where would we be without military/law enforcement to keep us safe? And without lawyers, who would represent those hard-fought-for freedoms. Each one needs the other in order to be worth anything at all.

Now, I ask you. Who grows up to become lawyers, doctors, and soldiers? Children do... children are the very foundation of our country. As such, I find it very surprising that they are cast aside so frequently, left in daycare, enrolled in school, required to partake in sports, and left almost wholly without the loving guidance of their parents (the only people who truly care about the wellbeing of their child as an individual).   

This, in turn, adds stay-at-home mother and wife to the list of important career choices.  It is not any more or less important than other careers.  It is equal, because without children raised with good morals and strong work ethics, who will become lawyers, doctors, and soldiers?  And without those careers awaiting them, what are those children to set their sights on?

So, the statement, "It's none of my business, but I think you're really intelligent and I think you're doing yourself a disservice by not pursuing higher education," essentially contradicts itself. If I am believed to be an intelligent person, why do you automatically assume that I would purposefully make such an (obviously) stupid decision?

Each side can take steps to remedy this. If the asker truly wants his words to make a difference, the statement should be changed to, "I think you're a really intelligent person, but I don't quite understand a certain decision you've made. Would you mind explaining it to me?" However, if the question is not asked in such a way, that doesn't leave people like me without recourse. Perhaps we, as the rebel to the status quo, should reply, "Thank you so much for sharing your honest opinion with me, I truly appreciate your concern. I would love to explain the reasoning behind my decision if you are interested in listening." In doing so, perhaps the chasm between the two sides of society can be bridged, even just for a moment.

                                              

What do you think?  Do you agree, disagree, or have additional thoughts to add? 

The First Day of the Rest of Your Life

Oftentimes at highschool and college graduations, and then again sometimes at weddings, you will hear the phrase "This is the first day of the rest of your life."  While this paints and interesting picture in the mind of those who hear it, I believe it points out the fact that we've lost sight of the real lives we live on a daily basis.

I've recently noticed the rush to grow up, the rush to graduate highschool, the rush to graduate college, the rush to get married, the rush to have kids, the rush to have a 25th wedding anniversary, the rush to have daughter/son in laws, the rush to have grand kids, the rush to have great grand kids... and then what?  By the time you get there, your entire life is gone.  It's been spent constantly racing toward the next big thing.

As a homeschool graduate and a staunch Christ follower, I have be raised to be a stay-at-home wife and mother.  From the very beginning, I learned thing to do things now that will improve my future life.  I learned to cook so I can one day cook for my family, I learned to sew so I can make clothes for my kids, I took Advanced Mathematics so that I can teach my own children up through highschool (and beyond, if needed), I even run the house and "babysit" my siblings for weeks on end to afford me practice for what my future may hold.

I highly recommend traveling...

However, I would venture to say this mindset of preparing for a currently-nonexistent future, has severely damaged my outlook on life.

My eighteenth birthday came and went, but there isn't a reasonable marriage prospect in sight.  (In reality, it takes the guys longer to "get ready" for marriage than it does the women, but that doesn't change the fact that my life is currently prospect-less.)  Pretty much, I've just been waiting... waiting for my knight in shining armor, waiting for my life to start, waiting for a chance to use all these skills I've learned.  But should I be waiting?  And more importantly, should I be rushing toward my future?

... and cliff jumping!

In reality, today is the future of your yesterday.  And tomorrow is the future of today.  Future doesn't have to mean five, twenty, or fifty years.  But how many of us wake up in the morning and think, "Yes!  This is my future.  This is what I've been striving for my whole life!"?  You may if you've suddenly woken up to the sun rising over your college graduation or your wedding day.  However, how many of us do that on a daily basis?

To all the single girls out there, you are precious for who you are and what you do on a daily basis - not because of the wife and mother you will one day be, not because in a year you will be a published author, not because you have graduated with honors and plan to achieve great success in your homeschooling... you are an integral part of God's plan right now.  You are the key piece to your neighborhood, school, choir, and family.  You don't need a man to make you worthy of life, you don't need a family to make you important in God's grand plan, you don't need children in order to be a success in your Christian community.

This is your life.  Here.  Now.  Today.  Not tomorrow, not next week, not next year.  This is [hopefully] the only time in your life you will be single.  Do you embrace your singleness as fully as you should?  This is the only time in your life when you can earn anything and everything you want without fear of failing your overwhelming familial duties at home.  Are you taking this opportunity to experience life?  This is the only time in your life when you can serve God with your abundant time.  Do you clear your schedule to make way for His work?  And most of all, are you living life fully, without a doubt experiencing, living, loving, and learning everything you possibly can?  You will never ever get this day back, you will never ever get this phase of your life back.  Don't waste it waiting for your future.  You are living your future right now. 

I strive to embrace my life, one day, one hour, one minute, one second at a time.  I encourage you to do the same, because if you don't... it will pass before you know it.

 

Femininity - Biblical or Cultural?

Recently I've read some posts on the subject of femininity that make me cringe.  Meant with the best of intentions, I fear they do more harm than good.  So, this made me start thinking.  What is femininity as it pertains to Christian women?

First, (because I am a writer and words seem like a logical place to start) let's see what Google says.

fem-i-nin-i-ty
noun: femininity, plural noun: femininities

1. the quality of being female, womanliness
          "she celebrates her femininity by wearing makeup and high heels"
synonyms: womanliness, feminineness, womanly qualities, feminine qualities
          "she was a woman truly comfortable in her femininity"

The American Heritage Dictionary says: 1. The quality or condition of being feminine, womanliness. 2. A female characteristic or trait. 3. Womankind. 4. Womanishness; effeminacy

I think we can safely say the word "Femininity" means to conduct oneself as a woman would, pertaining to the following areas - appearance, attitude, actions, and behavior.  Let's see what the Bibles says are appropriate ways for a woman to conduct herself. 

1 Tim. 2:11-12 - Let a woman learn quietly with all submissiveness.  I do not permit a woman to teach or to exercise authority over a man; rather, she is to remain quiet. 

Prov. 31:30 - Charm is deceitful, and beauty is vain, but a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised.

Prov. 31:26 - She opens her mouth with wisdom, and the teachings of kindness are on her tongue.  

Prov. 31:20 - She opens her hand to the poor and reaches out her hands to the needy. 

These verses paint a powerful picture of what a Godly woman should be.  Still, where does femininity fit into all of this? 

The majority of posts I've read on this subject push makeup, skirts, curled hair, perfume, nail polish, etc.  They go so far as to plainly state that outward appearance is key to being feminine.  

Certainly, outward appearance is one aspect of being feminine, but not the only one... nor, in my opinion, the most important.

This begs the question, what about those girls who are not comfortable wearing dresses/skirts, prefer short(er) hair, can't afford/choose not to spend their money on makeup, or simply prefer to spend their time improving other aspects of their lives? Are these individuals any less feminine?

I would contend that 95% of "femininity" is apparent in the way women act, their frame of mind, their grace and thoughtfulness in social situations, their willingness to serve (even if it causes them to appear less feminine), and the words they choose to speak.

I genuinely fear that spending too much time on ones appearance can hinder your ability to be an effective witness.  I know someone who always dresses nicely when he goes places – slacks and a button up shirt. He's nice to everyone and is very personable. However, it wasn't until one day when he accidentally spilled bbq sauce on his white shirt that someone (who had been watching him for a while) dared to approach and talk to him. This flaw in his normally perfect appearance gave him a human quality that had been lacking before; a little bbq on his shirt made him more approachable than his nice clothes or his combed hair. We, as Christians, should be careful that we aren't working so hard on improving our outward appearance that we cause others to feel like we are purposefully elevating ourselves above them.  In our endeavor to appear put-together, we should constantly be aware of the fact that at some point we cross over the line of appearing human to others and effectively push them away... snuffing out any chance we may have had at showing them the love of Christ.

When I think of the feminine women in my life, I think of those who thank men that hold doors for them, who take children on 4-wheeler rides, who help their brothers put the body of a twelve passenger van back on its chassis, who play Capture The Flag because the team needs one more player... but still curl their hair and wear a dress to a fancy dinner party. Those women who smile at everyone, love everyone, and serve everyone. 

To answer my own question, I believe that Biblical femininity is far more than personal appearance.  Femininity is a strong but quiet woman, a willing servant, a graceful conversationalist, a joyful giver and a humble receiver.  And then, on top of that, if you want to wear makeup... please feel free.  However, I believe a woman wearing a t-shirt and ponytail is possibly more equipped to tackle the world God has set in front of her and is most definitely not of any less value to Him.