When I was a kid, in the (ahem) 70s, it was getting to the end of a legalistic battle of generations. The culture of rules defining the evidence of your faith was struggling. Even though my family wasn't big on the rule scene, it permeated the landscape and my grandparents were definitely in the old school camp.
So slacks or jeans at church were bad for women. Missing church was bad. The judge was still out on pierced ears. Movie theaters could keep you from the rapture (not in my family but in my friend's). Rock music was blasted by many as of the devil though some would tolerate "Christian" rock. Drinking and smoking were straight tracks to...well you get the idea.
So somewhere in all of that without really meaning for it to happen a subliminal idea of "holiness" lodged in my mind. So as a (ahem) 30 something person God started dealing with to become a missionary, I felt at a distinct disadvantage. I am not all these "holiness" things that my mind would tell me I must be to fit the "missionary" mold.
I mean "real" missionaries would never watch movies or listen to *gulp* rock music. Right? Or prefer jeans over skirts and high heels? Or like reading secular novels?
It seems the deeper I go with God, the more I realize that by some remarkable miracle God uses damaged people. Even more amazing, He redeems us bit by bit from our brokenness and occasionally we do something good for his kingdom with a vast amount of His mercy and help. But that's the point, He did the miracle and we are evidence of His love.