A Challenge to Mothers

Something is badly wrong in the universe. I am astounded that I find myself agreeing with celebrity blogger,Perez Hilton. If you could MapQuest Mr. Hilton and myself based on where we stand with our core values, you would find it's a long jaunt from my location to his. I'm not throwing sticks at him, I'm just making a point (I hope). Just in case I'm being too murky-we have nothing in common. Except for an opinion.

A few days ago, a news story caught my attention concerning Hilton and Demi Moore. It seems that photos of Moore's 15 year-old daughter were posted on Hilton's blog, with a few descriptive words of her body parts that were on display. These were not photos that were taken of her with a telephoto lens while in the privacy of her home, she was photographed in public. In one photo, she had on a pair of what I call peek-a-cheek shorts, in the other a revealing, low-cut top. Keep in mind, we are talking about a 15 year-old girl who has a mother in the home. Moore went into a rage and called Hilton several names, accusing him of posting the pictures to appeal to perverts who like to look at little girls. Hilton responded by calling her a few names and expressed his opinion that Moore is a bad parent for letting her daughter dress in provocative ways in public.

Ouch! When "anything goes" Hilton calls someone a bad mama, it makes you ponder what could have prompted him to make that judgement. Of course, part of Hilton's pronouncement is probably self-serving. I'm sure that he realizes that posting those pictures of an underaged girl was way over the line. He seems to be looking for someone else to blame for his behavior. However, I agree with what he said about Moore, though I don't agree with his own actions.

In this area, Moore has failed her daughter. Mothers are supposed to equip their daughters to survive and thrive in our world, an increasingly over-sexualized world. As mothers we owe our daughters an upbringing that teaches them to respect their bodies and to demand that same respect from others. Part of the training that we must give our daughters is to educate them on how they are viewed by others when they wear very revealing clothes. Mothers who refuse to instill a sense of modesty in their girls are doing great damage to them. When I talk about modesty, I am not advocating dresses down to the calves (makes your legs look fat anyway!) or collars up to your earlobes. I am speaking of dressing and carrying yourself in a way that lets the world know, "I am valuable, I know it and you'd better know it too". When we allow and even encourage our young girls to dress like an extra in a Madonna video, they are sending out a message that will bring results that they are not able to handle.

There is a saying in the south that is right on target, "If it's not for sale, don't put it in the window". Let's not allow our daughters to display something that is priceless, without fully knowing what they are advertising. Let's teach them how much they are worth and that some things, once given away, can never be replaced.

Mothers, let's do our jobs.

Blessings Expected

My daughter recently started high school, in a new school district. If you remember when you began high school, you may still feel a little queasy. I know that I do. Will I like high school? Will anyone like me? Will anyone want to sit by me at lunch? (IF I can find the lunchroom!) All of these worries and more are normal when you are a teenager facing the terrifying entity called HIGH SCHOOL.

I don't want you to believe that my daughter is fearful. She is a very courageous young woman, strong in spirit, yet tender of heart. But, she was understandably nervous about going to a new school when her close friends were not going with her. I spent the years prior to high school agonizing about where she should go, touring schools and reading reports that rated each academically. I talked to parents about their experiences with a particular school and questioned their children about the friendliness of the student body. I asked family, friends and even strangers to pray that we would find the right school. Finally, we settled on a school about which my daughter, my husband and I could feel at peace. My daughter had several friends that were attending this school and it seemed a perfect fit. On the first day that applications were being accepted for open enrollment, I drove the packet, including several glowing letters from teachers and straight A+ report cards, out to the school office. My daughter was number 2 on the list and her chances looked excellent for being admitted. The wait had begun!

By the spring, I was a nervous wreck. We decided that a back-up plan was needed. More school tours ensued. She was accepted by four schools, one of them a small, rural high school. This was the one that she really didn't want to attend, it seemed so boring! One by one, the other high schools were eliminated. They were too far away or too far out (think pink wigs and body piercings...) And still, the number one choice did not call. Which is not to say that we didn't talk. I called, emailed and probably was on the verge of making a nuisance of myself. The secretary was perfectly sweet and sympathetic, but she couldn't just make an opening appear for an open enrollment student. By the first week of August, we officially gave up the fight and planned on attending the small, country high school. It was not a happy time.

I spent the next two weeks putting the best face possible on the situation. My girl was not feeling good about the decision, but did her best to hide her misgivings. Finally, we had a talk after a rough couple of days and the futility of our worry really hit home. I remembered all of the people that I had asked to pray for us and how they reassured me that they actually were praying whenever we talked. I thought about how I had always said that God works everything out for our good and His glory. I remembered the scripture that speaks about God working in mysterious ways to perform His wonders. I gave my anxieties to Him and in turn, received His peace.

The first day of high school, as I watched my daughter walk up the sidewalk to the school, I felt just like I did when I entered Spring Valley High for the first time. The relief that I felt when I picked up my smiling daughter that afternoon was immense. She liked her teachers, her classes and everyone that she had met. The kids were friendly and interested in her. The only thing missing was her friends, but she was confident that she was on her way to making friends here too.

A few days later, I was talking with one of her friend's mother and she was expressing some misgivings about the high school her daughter was attending. Without planning too, I found myself asking her if they would like to switch to my daughter's school. She gave me the okay to see if the school might accept another student. A couple of days later, even though the school had closed it's enrollment, my daughter was ecstatic to be told that one of her best friends would be joining her at school. The school that she initially didn't want to go to, the school that was her last choice, had become the backdrop for unexpected blessings!

I have been thinking about our high school experience a lot and seeing parallels in other areas of my life. Sometimes, I have wondered where God was taking me and then questioning "why here" when I arrived at my destination. There have been times when I felt that God must have made a mistake in where He placed me. I have even doubted whether He could bless me in the strange land where He had led. Why do I doubt Him? So many times, He has surprised me with the richness of His provision. He does not make mistakes and His plan for me cannot be thwarted. And when I find myself someplace that I never would have chosen, I purpose to keep my eyes open and look for goodness and mercy. I may not know just when the blessings will show up, but I'm waiting to see them at any moment.

Please, DON'T Mind Your Own Business

As my family and I saw the coverage of the Jaycee Lee Dugard kidnapping this past week, the question that we kept asking each other was, "How"?" How did these monsters get away with keeping a young woman and eventually her two children in their backyard for 18 years? How did they slip under the radar, free to rape and abuse their victims? The perpetrators had neighbors, close neighbors. They were not living on a compound in the middle of a prairie or on a remote mountain. They were literally surrounded by people who could have sounded a warning. People who in some instances, saw and heard things that were unusual and downright troubling. A couple of people tried to do the right thing, but their efforts fell flat. So, they stopped trying. Many people in the neighborhood knew of Phillip Garrido's sex offender status, but still grudgingly accepted his presence and chose to ignore the odd things that they saw and heard. They felt that it was none of their business, they just left him alone. Because, of course, the neighbors would appreciate the same freedom. They wouldn't want anyone questioning their peculiarities, right? Problem: they were not keeping a sex slave and her two children in their back junk yard like dogs. Decent people deserve to walk in freedom, predators do not.

What makes some people ignore the little voice that whispers that something is not right? How do they still that voice that urges them to take a closer look? Are they afraid, too self-involved or just completely clueless?

"Evil flourishes when good men do nothing." This is a quote from Edmund Burke and it sums up my feelings about this matter. Evil is present in our world, whether or not we choose to acknowledge it's existence. If it is given free reign, it will gain more and more ground. By our inaction, we are contributing to it's growth and dominance. If we ignore opportunities to beat back the darkness, we may not feel the consequences, but someone else will. And then we have to look at ourselves and ask, "How? How was I so stupid, lazy, timid, unconcerned, etc. to care? How has our society become so blind that fathomless evil has been able to exist right under our very noses?"

One of the hardest things that I have ever had to do is to stand up and speak out when everyone else was being silent. Harder still is maintaining the warning when people choose not to listen. But we must speak. Or one day that little voice inside of us may begin to ask a very tormenting question, "How can you live with what you didn't do?"

Treasures

It's raining tonight, not a soft, soothing rain, but the kind of rain that soaks you to the skin in 3 seconds. Luckily, I am indoors listening to thunder rattle the windows and watching lightning crackle across the dark sky. And I am feeling a little melancholy this evening. I'm sure that it's because this weekend, it will be one year since one of the loves of my heart left this world.

My grandma was a very simple, yet complex woman. When she died at 93, she had witnessed the world change very quickly in the span of her lifetime. How I loved to talk with her, asking her about her experiences, trying to gather as much as I could of her life to store away as priceless treasures. I can still hear her voice as she describes the little school she attended and the books that she read for her lessons. As she tells me of her elopement with my grandfather, I see the twinkle of young romance in her blue eyes. I can almost hear the cries of her four sons as they were born at home with only female relatives as her nurse. The hardships that she endured, the progress that she made, the joys and sorrows that she encountered were all met with a calm acceptance. Even after her beloved husband of 55 years died, she refused to just mark time until she could join him. She was interested in everything and she was herself, interesting.

As I sit here with the rain now quietly falling outside my window, I wonder what my future granddaughter will one day say about me. Will she, as I when I think of my grandma, find herself smiling? Will she be inspired by my strength and warmed by my gentleness? Will she be amazed that I met hard times with grace and honor? Will she remember the times that she heard me praying for her by name? Will I be able to pass along the legacy that my grandmother gave to me?

Tonight, I am looking at my treasures and I am the richest woman that I know.

THIS is a Diamond?

Sometimes the boundless worth of a woman is not immediately apparent. Usually it’s not apparent to those who measure a person’s value by a set of criteria based solely upon the exterior. And I’m not just talking about looks, we can be judged by what we drive, where we live and how we make our money. Everything from what kind of purse we carry (not a designer? Gasp!) to if and where we attended college can help others to decide whether we measure up to a certain standard. Sometimes the external features of a woman’s life are less than impressive and if that’s as close as we look, we may find her unexceptional. But let’s consider what happens to a diamond in the rough in the hands of a master.

As a young man, my father had an interesting experience which I think illustrates my point. He was just out of the army and he had gone there right from his family farm. Needless to say, he had no experience with diamonds or jewels of any kind. The closest he got to stones of any worth was when he shoveled coal into the family stove. So one day, as he wandered along the street of a big city, he was a little puzzled by what he saw in the window of a jewelry store. A distinguished looking man sat at a table with some strange implements on them. He caught my father watching and he must have enjoyed having an audience because he began to put on a show. He carefully picked up a rock from the table and began to turn it over in his hands. The jeweler seemed to be considering his next move as he held it up to the light. My father wondered why a jeweler would have what looked to him to be a piece of coal in his store. Maybe it was just a really ugly stone! After a time, the jeweler seemed to make up his mind about his course of action. He put the rock on the table, picked up a small implement and wham! He broke the rock open. He did this again and again until at last he seemed satisfied. By this time, my dad had realized that this most certainly had to be a jewel of some sort since the jeweler was taking so much time cutting the stone. Next, the old man began to polish the stone. He worked and worked, until at last he held the stone up to the sunlight streaming in through the window. A ray of morning sun hit the stone, revealing a rainbow of color and fire. With a sense of wonder my father came to understand that the ugly rock was actually a diamond. He knew if he had come across this uncut diamond in his family coal bin that he would have put it in the stove, without ever knowing it’s value. He would have assumed that he knew exactly what it was, he would have known it’s worth. It took the keen eye and skillful hands of a master diamond cutter to bring out the beauty that was hidden under a plain and unremarkable exterior.

I know that this story is simplistic and I also know that it’s a little trite. I mean, don’t we all know that you should never judge a book by it’s cover, still waters run deep and beauty is in the eye of the beholder? Do we really “know” these truths or are they just familiar sayings? Why oh why, do we allow ourselves to be measured by someone else’s standards? And even worse, why do we agonize when we don’t pass the test?

During a dark period in my life in which I found myself frequently regretting how unsuccessful I was, I had a moment of revelation. As I was praying I was lamenting the “facts” that I was not this or that. I hadn’t accomplished anything on my 10 year, 5 year, 1 year or 1 month plan for success. I hadn’t even started my diet last Monday! I told God what a complete failure I was. I explained to Him that I was not a success. I waited for Him to tell me just how disappointed He was in me. Then, a kind, quiet voice said words to me that I have found hard to forget. “By what yardstick are you measuring success? Seek to please me. That is all that you need to do.” What a great sense of peace and relief I felt when I began to understand that our Creator looks beyond my less-than-perfect exterior and still sees a diamond. He desires to apply His expertise to my life and show me what is really important. He wants to make me shine for Him.

Bebe