Category: Uncategorized

  • Monday Mourning

    Someone once said to me, “I pray for you harder on Mondays. They seem to be really tough on you.” He was right. They are, and I’m not 100% sure why. It’s like the spirit world collides with my emotions and suddenly I’m very aware of the sorrows and hardships around me. Sometimes I get the hard hitting news on Monday, and sometimes I feel the pain of sorrowful news I will receive at the end of the week. I’m not sure why and what it is all about, but I know that I always find myself on my knees and interceding on Mondays.

    I wish that I were a more entertaining writer, that my content was light and airy, but the truth is, I write when I am burdened. See, I learned this method of processing from David. I figure someone who was King and was tagged as “One after God’s own heart” must have some wisdom in how he vented. David would get upset or sad or mad and he would run to God. He would let him know how he was hurting the source of his pain and his desire for resolution and as he sang, or played, or wrote, God revealed the Truth. He does the same with me. When I get hurt or or hurt for others or feel the pain that has no name or sometimes origin, I run to Daddy God…and I pour out my heart to Him, and as I write He speaks.

    This Monday was no different. He met me with one amazing message. He met me in my shower with tear stained cheeks and shaking shoulders prostrate at His feet with one and only one word. It hit me so hard it literally took my labored breath away, and I wailed with the revelation of it. It was simply this – LOVE.

    We don’t get this. We really don’t. We can’t see this amazing, all consuming love because our pain overrides it’s truth. He loves us! Not with a fickle human love that ebbs and flows with emotion, but He has for us an eternal love, an enduring love – a love that always hopes, always believes, never fails. It’s an extravagant love, and our circumstances do not change that. He gives and He takes away, blessed be the name of the Lord!

    It’s hard to swallow at times…in the ICU watching your loved ones labored breath, asking “WHY??” When you get the news that your loved one is dead, dying, or not expected to make it, or you find out you’ve miscarried, or your unable to have children, or your child has been molested, or your son is an alcoholic, or your daughter has cancer, or you’ve lost your only friend, or your husband filed for divorce, or your teen ran away, again, or you discovered a lump…whatever it is where we find ourselves begging, pleading, searching, needing…we must always remember that He is Love.

    We must believe that He is with us even in the pain of it all. We must believe that He has the power to turn tragedy into beauty. We must trust that He can make all things new. We must cling to His promises. We must realize that nothing is impossible with Him. We must have faith that He is Who He says He is. We must believe that He hears our prayers, He feels our pain, He knows our hearts, and those groans that we cannot express find expression through His Spirit. We must.

    I have heard His heart tonight…I have cried human tears for His superhuman sorrow, and what I have felt in my own little community and world, is but the tiniest fraction of what He feels and knows and breaks His heart the world over. Our God is vulnerable to our emotions…we see testament of this throughout the Word of God. We move Him with our expression and what we feel does make a difference. He cares for us. More than we will ever know. More than we can ever believe. He cares and He loves us. It doesn’t mean our afflictions go away…it means He is our Hope, that there is beauty in ashes, and joy does come in the morning…even on Mondays.

  • Everything means EVERYTHING

    This evening is bitter sweet. I put my precious husband on a plane for 8 days this morning. You never realize exactly how much you are attached to another human being until they are gone and you cannot reach them and they cannot reach you, and you know that as advanced as technology has become sometimes you gotta feel the distance. That’s when His assurance washes over you, re-assures you.

    I was pondering my situation and feeling my loneliness when God reminded me, my husband may be gone but my Groom stands beside me. He does not sleep nor slumber, He watches me knowing that I am His. Everything is His. Psalm 24 reminds us that all the world is His and EVERYTHING in it. Everything means EVERYTHING. It means the man or woman that want nothing to do with Him. It means the little bird in the tree waiting for his mother to return that only God can see. It means the orphaned child that somehow knows he or she is loved. It means the family that has just said their final goodbyes to the one they love. It means the magnificent flowers in the jungle that no human eye will ever see. It means the ocean roaring with life to pick up the surfers waiting for the next curl. It means the little girl sitting at the window watching the rain wondering if she will ever live happily ever after, and the woman in her thirties sitting on her bed with tearstained eyes fearful that she won’t. It means the baby struggling for breath in the NICU and the man finishing his final lap of a 10 hour marathon. It means the grass of the field and the butterflies that flutter, the cow that moos and the mouse that squeaks. Everything means EVERYTHING.

    Everything means my precious husband, tired from a plane ride and expectant for the week that comes. It means my daughter who has already sent three texts because it doesn’t matter that Daddy won’t get them, she’s going to send them. It means me… the tired, lonely wife that even in her longing for the love of her life, knows the comfort only my First Love can give. It means you…who ever you are, reading this right now.

    Everything means EVERYTHING, and we can rest assured that we are His.

  • Fool’s Gold

    I’ve been pondering Matthew 25 today. Specifically, I have been dissecting the parable of the talents. It’s an interesting story to me –

    Basically this boss is going on a trip. Before he leaves he bestows his servants with a portion of his wealth. The first guy he gives a considerably large amount, five bags of gold (in the Message). The second guy he gives a moderate amount, three bags of gold, and the third guy gets the least, one bag of gold, which in the scope of things is still more than he would have had. The master goes away and leaves them to their business. After a while, he comes back to find what his servants have done with what he gave them.

    The first guy, the one that was given the most, comes and proudly shows the master what he has earned…he’s doubled the investment! The master is thrilled and says that he will be given more and he is welcome to join in the happiness! The second guy also cheerfully hands over his doubling, and the master again rejoices and tells him he will give him more, and he’s also welcomed to join. Finally we come to the last guy, the one who was given the smallest amount, and here is where I want to sit awhile because a lot is found in this account.

    I want to look at the character of the man. This is where the reaction of the master lies, I believe. The master turns to the third man and asks, “And what have you to give?” The guy goes immediately on the defensive. “Well, first of all, ALL you gave me was one bag of gold.” The insinuation here is, “You didn’t give me much to work with.” But, his audacity doesn’t end there; he continues, “And I know that you are a mean and hard man and that you aren’t fair in your dealings, so I was afraid.” Can you imagine the master’s formerly understanding face by that point?! But he continues, he finishes digging his grave by telling the “hard unyielding” master that because of that fear, he dug a hole and buried what he had, and probably with a smug look, the fool hands him back the bag of gold. The tone of the master completely changes. He is described as “Furious!” (Well, wouldn’t you be?) He looks at the guy and says, “Are you that foolish and lazy?! If I WERE such a master as you’ve believed, to do the unfair things of which you’ve accused me, at the very least you could have taken this gold to the bank and at least returned it to me with interest! But you were lazy and you were foolish and you have no part in my Kingdom!” Ouch.

    Do you wonder what Servant 1 and Servant 2 are thinking as they over hear this? I do, because, we get a glimpse of their character, too. The first guy was excited about two things: he was grateful for the money, and he eagerly went out and invested it. The second guy, though given less, is just as excited and eager. They didn’t seem to bicker over what each of them had; they simply and eagerly took what they were given and put it to work – not for themselves, but for the master. There was never a doubt as to who was going to receive the reward from that investment. They know the master is coming back. They know they have been entrusted with his wealth, and they know that whatever comes of it belongs to him when he returns. They never question his character or his motives. They don’t try to make him out to be “unyielding or hard.” You get the idea that they want to please him. They are grateful for what they have been given, and they want him to see that they are good servants. And, He does.

    The correlation with this story Jesus tells us is that this is a picture of the Kingdom of Heaven. Jesus is telling this story to His disciples in an attempt to get them to understand what is coming and what is expected. This is where we come in. This is a lesson for all of us, and today, this is what I am learning.

    First of all, the amounts given weren’t the issue. The man with five and the man with three bags of gold were given the same reward. Secondly, we all know that the master is The Master…this is Jesus. He is gone on a journey, but He will be back. (Please try not to picture him on a motorcycle with shades and a Swartzenegger accent as you read that.) And finally, we, like the servants, have all been entrusted with His wealth, and we will be held accountable for what we do with it.

    Now, let’s look at this parable in today’s terms. Upon Jesus’ departure He left us the Holy Spirit Who gives us gifts. Jesus tells us that these “gifts” are the Father’s that are imparted to us. Our gifts vary, as do their quantities, but each of us is left with something. These gifts are to be shared and extended, multiplying the Kingdom of Heaven, increasing the Master’s wealth. Let’s look at the two servants that are rewarded. What did it take? First of all, they received the gift and happily put it to use. This would be like the children of God that have multiple gifts of the Spirit. They eagerly use these gifts, doing good, and sharing the abundance and encouraging others to do the same. They enjoy the gift and don’t fear the outcome, fully trusting that He Who entrusted it will bless it. This is a beautiful picture of how God wants us to use what we’ve been given – freely, selflessly, eagerly, fearlessly.

    The next picture we get is of the “lazy and foolish” servant. This is the child of God that is fearful and skeptical. This is the child of God that fears not only the Father and what He might require of them, but this child also fears the gifting. Perhaps he or she questions the worth of what they have. Perhaps they look around at others and think, “Look what all they have, and all I have is this. I can never do that. So I will do nothing.” Fearfully, they bury that gift, saving it for themselves to eek out the smallest bit of favor from God. In the end, they will find just like the servant did, that there is no reward. God wants us to take risks. Risks say, “I trust You.” Risks say, “I’m not 100% sure I can do this, but I’m 100% sure You can.” Risks say, “Even if I die trying, it’s still worth the investment.” Fear places blame. Fear never even attempts. Fear hides and buries what could make a difference, and fear doesn’t increase the Kingdom.

    So which servant or child of God will you be? It doesn’t take much. Even a smile can yield a return… it isn’t for us to determine worthiness or wealth. It’s for Him to decide, and if it is a gift that He has entrusted to you, it’s a gift that has a purpose. “To the one that is faithful with little, much more shall be given.” Let this be your motivation to be a faithful, eager, trusting servant. After all, it’s not about what’s in it for you; in the end, it’s all His, and if we are faithful, when He comes back, we will get to join in the happiness.

  • A crown of beauty

    “Don’t be concerned about the outward beauty of fancy hairstyles, expensive jewelry, or beautiful clothes. You should clothe yourselves instead with the beauty that comes from within, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is so precious to God.” 1 Peter 3:3-4

    My daughters and I were watching television the other day and stumbled onto “Toddlers in Tiaras.” We were riveted – much like being forced to watch a train crash – you know what is going to happen but you just.cant.turn.away. It was frightening! I’m not casting judgment on these people or their children, but I can’t imagine doing that with my girls! Piling fake hair on their heads, gluing on false eyelashes, applying more makeup than I would ever wear, and inserting a mouth piece to hide their gap toothed smile. (There is just something wrong about a toddler with dentures, do you agree?)

    In direct contrast, this reminded me of a dear sister of mine that was getting her three year old daughter ready for a dance recital and had to put makeup on her for the first time. After it was applied, Abbi held the mirror up and said, “Look at you!” To which her daughter replied, “That’s not me. I’m prettier.” Good girl!

    Our quest for perfect beauty is so misguided. Peter understood, beauty is from within, a gentle and quiet spirit that fears the Lord and leads others to Him. This is what God finds precious, and this is the kind of beauty that I am investing my time and energy in with my own daughters. I want them to be women of grace and integrity. Soft women that are compassionate and real. They are naturally beautiful – it’s the soul stuff, the heart beauty, that takes the most work. I know. I’m still working on it. I’m praying for me and my girls to be awarded a crown of beauty to lay at His feet…so much better than a tiara with rhinestones. 🙂

  • The terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day

    I should have known last night as I begged my head to stop hurting so I could sleep that the morning might not be much better. But I’m an optimist with great faith and so I believed that I would wake up to a better day. I didn’t.

    I woke up at 3:00 AM and could barely walk to the bathroom for the dizziness – which wasn’t all that surprising, that happens after a migraine. I consider it a headache hangover. Then I woke up again an hour later, nauseous and still dizzy, and the next hour, and I realized that as much as I didn’t want to, I was gonna have to call in sick. I did so, and after tossing and turning, went to sleep. Terrible.

    I woke up a couple hours later with a kiss from my precious husband as he said goodbye and wished me better. I smiled and rolled back over. My whole body hurt. Even my skin was sensitive. My 8 year old, who’d crawled into bed earlier this morning, rolled over and kicked me and put her feet on my chest. Ouch. Horrible.

    My phone went off. A teenager was missing, hadn’t been seen since last night, would I please pray? Well, of course. I did. I checked facebook and felt slighted. I repented so I prayed and asked God to remove any unclean way in me and thought to go back to sleep. My flesh ate at my heart. I was mad at myself for my reaction. Then another text, one of my loved ones was hurting, scared, frustrated, and I was feeling her pain. I talked with her. I prayed for her. I prayed for myself…I was angry. In the midst of that another text – they found the boys car and phone but he was still missing. Ugh. No good.

    I was talking to God begging for His protection, His wisdom, His guidance for this poor boy and his family. I knew He was listening. I knew the angels were circling. No matter what, I knew that boy wasn’t alone. Then a notification from twitter… a tweet. Don’t you just love when the enemy sends a message that threatens to deflate your faith the very moment that faith is most required? Yes. And so he did. And so it did. And my daughter followed it up with her attitude and selfishness and bold and mean accusations, and whatever hope I had for a turn about was eaten up in self pity. Very bad.

    Then, I heard His voice. I completely expected anger and disappointment and impatience. I expected what I was feeling to be mirrored back at me, but I was projecting and He was consoling. From deep within my soul I heard His voice and He said, “Let it go.” I answered, “But the (blank) and the (blank) and there’s ….” The voice interrupted again, “Let it go.” I argued, “But Daddy, I’m (blank) and (blank) and…” This time is was louder, “LET IT GO.”

    He knows best. He created this day. It’s a good day. Or, it will be.

  • The day He swallowed my death

    *WARNING THIS IS ABOUT SUICIDE AND MIGHT BE CONSIDERED GRAPHIC

    “Then the saying will come true: Death swallowed by triumphant Life! Who got the last word, oh, Death?” 1 Corinthians 15:51

    In our community we have suffered the loss of 5 teens through suicide in the last 6 months. That’s been almost one a month. So, in an effort to share encouragement and to speak life into broken hearts, we are choosing to make May Suicide Awareness Month and having a huge, free concert this Thursday (June 2) with Building 429, Royal Tailor Band, and Hayley Masters!

    I have a vested interest in this venture. Eighteen years and about a couple months ago, I was convinced that I would be better off dead. The heart-wrenching and overwhelming fear of my future, years of bearing the guilt and shame of a past that I couldn’t come to grips with, and the feelings of isolation and “no one will understand”, were all climaxing to a point where suicide seemed like the best choice.

    Unlike some might think, one very rarely just wakes up one morning and decides to take his/her life. It’s a very deliberate murder of self. Much thought goes into this – the hows and whens and wheres actually are very well thought out. I wrestled through all of those options, and luckily for me, I lived in a foreign country where handguns were not easily accessible, so a blade or a knife to the wrist seemed to be my best bet. I had thought it through and was well aware of the “failure rate” of that type of suicide so I studied my arms and wrists intensely so that I would know exactly where to drive the blade, what blade would be best, and whether or not a knife was necessary. I chose a weekend where I knew that I would be alone in the dorm, because honestly I didn’t want a peer to walk up on the scene and be traumatized. (Strange. I thought I was being thoughtful.) I chose the community bathroom, because there was a large sink drain in the floor and I would run the water so that it would drain away the blood more quickly so I wouldn’t have to endure the sight of blood for long. I knew it would hurt my parents, and come out of nowhere for them because I had worked so hard to disguise my depression and my anguish, but I also figured that they had two other daughters that would fill that void for them. They would be fine. It was the best plan for everyone.

    I remember the walk down the hall. The blade was securely in my hand, and my tears were blinding me. It felt very much like a march to the gallows…even if I was my own executioner. I turned on the light to the bathroom and made my way to the sink. I said my goodbyes in my head, I cried for each of my family members and wished my friends life’s best, then just as I was about to jerk the blade into my flesh, I saw something in the sink faucet. I was crying so I wiped away the tears thinking that I was mistaken, but then I saw that it was a face. I leaned in to take a closer look and noticed it as the precious face of my then toddler niece. Funny, I didn’t think I was going crazy. It was a welcome sight. Then I heard the following words, “For her.” The moment freaked me out. I pulled back and got angry and became once more resolved with the blade when I heard, “NO! You must LIVE for HER!” I know it sounds crazy, but I knew exactly Who was speaking to me in that moment. The Power and Authority in that Voice was so strong. I dropped the blade and fell to the floor, “God, help me! I beg of you, help me!” I heard the door creak at the end of the hall down from the bathroom. I pulled myself up from the floor and wiped my eyes. I was a master pretender. If someone were coming, they would never know what was about to happen. But, no one came. In that moment that I stood and waited for the door of the bathroom to open, all I could hear was my heartbeat, and with every beat of my heart those words echoed, “For her, for her, for her, for her…” I looked at the blade, where it had fallen just about two feet away from me, and I stared at it. I looked at the faucet, where I had seen her face. I looked at my wrists. Then, I remember, squeezing my hands in a fist, dropping them to my side, and walking out of that bathroom.

    I felt two things as I made my way down that hall – “I’ve failed”… and “Now what?” I got back to my room, turned off the light, laid on my bed and waited. The next morning, there was a knock at my door. My friend, Joy Conrad, had made something for me. She brought it to my room. She laid it in my hands. It was a picture album. She had hand-stitched the front with the words “Cast all your cares upon Him, for He cares for you.” But, instead of pictures, this book held about 20 3×5 cards, and written in hand on each one of these cards was verse after verse of God’s promises to me, His love for me, His desire for me, and His purpose for me. She had no idea, but that was the beginning of a long climb out of a dark pit.

    It began with that book. I found the energy to move one step into life. I acted the part of the perfectly healthy teen while I was at school or with my friends, but when I got back to my room, I would sit on my bed, facing the window, and I would sit in silence…letting my heart speak to it’s Creator. The next week, the silence turned to words. I would read those scripture verses out loud and let their power fill the room. The next week, the words were replaced with songs, simple heart-felt songs that echoed my Father’s heart back to me. We stayed in that place for a long time, singing to one another. It probably sounds crazy that I knew He was singing to me, but I knew that He was…He was singing through me and to me… and as we sang, life began to grow brighter. Slowly but surely, I began to write…my feelings, my fears, my heart, my life song…whatever I was thinking. Never knowing that He had given me my purpose in that.

    Last night, as I watched and listened and my heart grieved for those lost and those desperate and those considering, I wept. But mingled in with those tears of sorrow, were profound tears of joy as I nuzzled my husband’s cheek and thanked Daddy God for rescuing my life. It’s no wonder I’m passionate about teen girls…and for the heart of broken women of all ages…it was more than for my niece that He saved me that day. He saved me for every her that He would allow me to meet…and in time He has filled me with a powerful love for them, that refuses to let them believe that they are anything less than worthy! He saved me so wonderfully that year that even the pain that came after that time, and the pain that I recently endured, and the pain that I have yet to endure, in the end, all seem worth it, because with each revelation of frailty, I’m reminded that He is Strong and He is with me, and in those moments of stillness, He is still singing over me.

  • Don’t Miss OUT – Presell and Sale!

    For the next two weeks I am going to be linking the two ministries that mean the world to me: the ministry that God has created in me to write books for teen girls, and the heart that He stoked in Christie Love (and a few other amazing and phenomenal women) to change the face of Women’s Ministry as we know it with LeadHer.

    SO… I am giving $3 of every book sold to LeadHer!  This PRESELL of $25 puts you ahead of the game as Paper. Rock. Scissors. Book Two: Celeste’s Confession has yet to be released to any other retailer! And, to make things fair for those of you who might not have read the first book, Kiss, Bang, Boom! Book One: Zella’s Story, much less own it, I am having a SALE of $40, and I will give $5 to LeadHer for every 2 Pack sold!

    If you wanna buy the two books, click on the link under “What I love…” titled “BOOK SALE!”  If you wanna buy books separately just click on the image of the book preferred on my website home page, and it will take you to a safe and secure payment site.  For every book sold, I will include an autograph and a note of inscription to you or someone you love!  So, click away, and help fund two ministries that long to make a difference!

    (Prices listed include S&H)

  • The Fly Buzzes

    “He will swallow up death forever. 

    The Sovereign LORD will wipe away the tears from all faces…
    The LORD has spoken.” Isaiah 25:8

    Death.

    It’s like a 100% probability. 10 out of 10 people will die. It happens everyday. To those we least expect and those we most expect. In moments we are never prepared for. Death is an inevitability. Young, old, healthy, sick, no one is immune. Death carries out its sentence peacefully and violently, the grim reaper is simply a fog of mortality that sweeps over us all.

    “Gosh, Leslie! Such a downer!” Yes. But there are very few good things we can say about death. Very few encouraging statements find their foothold in its language. It hurts. Maybe not for you or for me, but always for those involved. We know the finality of it, and it’s such a simplistic word for a complicated event; there is nothing easy about death.

    Emily Dickinson once wrote, “I heard a fly buzz – when I died.” So wise that woman. Because, whether we like it or not…life goes on even as death overtakes us. That’s not so hard for the dead to hear as it is for the survivors.

    I’m sure the mother as she cradles her daughter, dares the fly to light, the clock to tick, the world to move. How dare it!

    She cannot imagine.

    The same for the daughter that watches the final rise and fall of her mother’s chest, but life continues in the questions of the child in the room, “Is she gone mommy?”

    Or, the wife that stumbles upon the body of the love of her life as he collapses in the midst of a race, so unexpected, so unnecessary, and yet…the runners run on.

    Very real moments.

    Very real pain.

    And still, the fly buzzes.

  • Adoption papers

    “So in Christ Jesus you are all children of God through faith,” Galatians 3: 26

    I heard someone say Monday in the midst of the “Osama is dead” debate, “But, we must not forget that he, too, is a child of God.” Honestly, that made my skin crawl. In our commission to love others and to love our enemies, let’s not mistake God’s creation with His children. God says that we are adopted as His children, but our adoption is contingent. The ink that signs those papers is signed with the blood of Christ. Through Him we are adopted. It may not be popular belief, but the Word of God is true and that’s what It says – we are adopted as children of God by faith in Jesus Christ.

    Don’t get me wrong. He longs to adopt all of us, but we have to choose it. Our free will has to submit to His perfect will, and not all of His created are willing. Here is the problem: If we can confuse one that is created and loved by Almighty God and mistake them for a redeemed and ransomed child of God, then we can say that we are ALL children of God, and if we are all children of God, then ultimately what was the purpose of Christ? Here is another grey line in the realm of Universalism that is mucking up the truth. This isn’t soley about Osama Bin Laden (I’m not here to judge his fate; it’s already been decided), but if one can mistake him, with all of his evil intent and destruction, as a child of God, then how much more easily can we call the good man or woman, who is not a believer, a child of God?

    Beware church. The tongue of the Liar speaks just enough truth to confuse us, but even a slanted truth is not true at all! More of this fine lined, love wins stuff will continue to attempt to corrupt the heart of the Body…listen carefully, and know His word lest you be sucked in and deceived. The enemy is crafty, and he knows his time is running short; he’s gonna pull out all the stops, and his main goal is to keep us from finding our identity in Christ- the blood of the Lamb that overcomes the sin of the World. Beware and be vigilant, children of God, distinguish the white washed lies from our Father’s voice. Test and approve that which is His, the good, perfect will of God. The enemy screams his agenda, while Father God gently speaks a message of hope and restoration. Listen for that still small voice that speaks, “This is the way, walk in it.”

  • Tales from a rebellious mother…

    Last week was a week of milestones, and I find myself freaking out just a little bit. My baby turned 8. Of course, today at the orthodontist when he asked her what birthday number she celebrated she said with absolute believability, “Twenty.” He laughed and my mouth fell, because honestly, as fast as the last 8 years have gone, the next 12 will fly by and before I know it, she WILL be twenty. Sigh.

    Add to that realization that I recently (brace yourself) bought my oldest a bra. She will be 10 in two weeks. That was the next sock in the gut of motherhood after the startling revelation that buying shoes for her now is easy – if they fit me, they will fit her. All I could think as I she tried on the bra was, “Holy cow! If she’s anything like me in another year she’ll be stuffing it!” Sigh.

    I spoke at a women’s conference this weekend, and there was the sweetest young man there with such a heart of goodness and love that I thought, “He’s a Toby.” (If you’ve read my book you know exactly how highly a paid compliment that is!) I pondered, “I’d like Maddie to date someone like that…” When I realized, if she waited until she was in college and thirty (as her dad has commanded), she actually could date him! Later, I was commenting on the boys facebook page, thanking him for his heart and his service, and Maddie said, “He is cute.” Not thinking it through I said, “Yeah, I wouldn’t mind you dating him.” She asks, “How old is he?” I said, “Sixteen, I think.” At which point Lily said, “Well, what qualifies (yes she totally said that word) her to date him?” I said, “Well, he loves Jesus.” Without a pause she retorted, “Well, I love Jesus! I could date him!” Oh wow. So not ready for all of this, even if I did inadvertently start it.

    I’m not sure when the development (no pun intended) of the “Tween scene” began – perhaps a marketing gimmick for Disney? – but it still in my opinion pushes these kids too quickly to teenagedoom…I mean, teenagedom. I’m not ready for that. They aren’t ready for that. There are games to play, dolls to name, and fantasies to live out long before they think they are “too cool.” I wanna hold onto my little girls as long as I possibly can. I want them to look sideways at boys like they have cooties and can’t be touched. I want them to lose themselves in their imaginations playing dolls and Barbies. I want them to run and play and jump outside without wondering what others will think. I want them to watch Veggie Tales and laugh at their daddy’s chest hair. I want them to stay young and innocent and unmarred!

    This afternoon in an act of defiance and renouncing the progress of time, like a spoiled and pouting Peter Pan, I ripped off my bra, encouraged Maddie to do the same, and grabbed my favorite Barbie and played. Boys and bras can wait. Barbie and Ken forever. 🙂