Lovely As a Tree

I began this blog to help me process my grief whenever I lost my dad.  Little did I know that this blog would be where I came to again to process yet another loss in my life.  A year ago today one of the dearest people in my life left this Earth to join both our earthly and heavenly father.

My heart aches deeply missing my sister anytime I give myself time to think about it.  I am hoping the words I have to share are a soothing balm to my own heart as well as to any of you who might need to hear the same thing.

Personally, I have found some solace in the symbolism in something meaningful remembered of a person, for my sister that symbol is a tree.  At first I truly thought this was because of a piece of art that always hung on a wall in her house, but the significance goes so much deeper. 

It started some time ago in a little library where we grew up. Shelly, my sister, took me to the library and allowed me to pick out two books, "The Little Princess" and "Paddington Bear".  I don't remember much about any other part of that day except how special I felt and how much Shelly trusted me to let me use her library card to borrow books.  When I was a child, reading was an escape for me and I was a voracious reader so that day was a treat I have always remembered. And, I know what you must be thinking, how are we getting from books to trees, but stay with me!

This love for reading continued throughout my life and when I had my children, what did I most want to pass on to them?  My love of reading!  I loved the silliness of a poetry book that lead to more books by the same author.  One of my favorite books by him that I read to my kids is called "The Giving Tree" by Shel Silverstein.  If anyone isn't familiar with the story, a young boy asks a tree for various things as he grows up and by the very end the tree has given the boy everything he can.  

This is where the tree starts to represent so much more for me in comparison to the way Shelly lived her life.  Her love branched out like a tree to so many people.  You could always count on finding shelter under the love she showed.  It was extraordinary how you could come to her feeling pretty worthless and leave feeling like a champion. All of these things encompassed her personality and so much more, whether it be the branches of her love giving comfort to you in a time of need, the strength of her soul holding you together when you were falling apart or just providing a comfortable place to sit, talk about life and laugh a bit.  

Now we go even deeper, deep, deep down to the roots of a tree because Shelly's faith in God was strong.  We became prayer partners when I was going through a Bible Study.  I remember how eloquent her words were to God and I remember my desire to be able to speak to God and people with my words at the exact same time just like her.  Another distinct memory that still makes me beam with pride over was a moment of transition for my family.  I had always taken care of the bills in our household but I was determined to get my husband to see how hard it was and to take it over.  Let's just say there was a learning curve and things got pretty awful for a bit.  I remember Shelly telling me how proud she was of the faith I showed that God would see us through.  I never felt like my faith was that strong but she saw that in me and made me feel like a warrior, because that is what she did, she saw the good in you before you saw it in yourself.  

Don't you think that has to be THE most Christ-like trait we could have?  To look past all the negative things in someone and peel the layers back to see what God sees?  What she saw must have been inspiring and frustrating all at the same time.  But, it reminds me of the verse that I believe is my inspiration for her symbolically reminding me of a tree.  It is in Jeremiah 17:8,  For he shall be as a tree planted by the waters, and that spreadeth out her roots by the river, and shall not see when heat cometh, but her leaf shall be green; and shall not be careful in the year of drought, neither shall cease from yielding fruit.

As I remember her on this day that was her last day on Earth, I will remember that she is like a tree, whose roots spread, who saw no heat and whose leaf continues to flourish even when her physical body was no more.  I see her fruit every day, in me, in my other sisters, in my children, in her children, in our extended family and to all the friends and people whose lives she touched.  What an awesome legacy she leaves us by having taken these words to heart.  She is missed every day but those of us whose lives she touched will hold her in our hearts forever.

Love Surrounding

Do you ever need to feel God?  I don't mean the still small voice or Him moving in your life but feel the physicality of a great big hug from God?

I haven't written here in what seems like forever.  Maybe it is the 6th anniversary that dad is gone that brought it on.  It could have been a laundry list of other things but I feel like I have a tsunami of words to spill out.  This week I needed to feel love.  I didn't need praise or accolades, I just needed to feel words like arms wrapped around me saying I was enough, I was loved and it was because I was me, for no other reason than that.  I sat here in the dark, headphones on, listening to music and writing on my business page. 

I never write anywhere expecting anything in return.  It is cathartic for me to spill out thoughts on paper or screen and I share them only in hoping what I am experiencing helps someone else in their walk.  This week though, some of my fears have been paralyzing and have touched some deep rooted feelings I have learned to ignore.  Funny how when all those things are coming to the surface every song, every quote and everyone that comes in your path is like a message from God. 

These talks with my Father didn't start with me talking to God, it was me talking to my DAD!  It was the adult me asking for his honey salve on a scrape that wounded my soul, it was crying out when the adult me fell off my horse and needed courage to get back on again.  It was so easy to look to Heaven and cry out to my Dad, and then I started to hear from my Father.  It was like my dad said, hey, talk to him, he knows what you need. 

And isn't that where we need to be most of all? Asking an omniscient God, "What do I do now?"   And the verse springs to mind, "Ask and it shall be given, seek and you will find, knock and the door will be opened to you."  So, I sit here feeling love surround me and know when I ask, seek and knock God will answer with what is best and this week I feel like he answered in a big way!

I hope God is coming through for you and that you are surrounded by the love you deserve just when you need it!  Shine bright!

Finding Fellowship with Foot Baths

I do not think it was by chance that the Bible study I am currently reading brought me to Ephesians 2. I may struggle to put into words how it correlated to my thoughts today but hopefully my best efforts will prove to be at least good enough.

I have to explain that Ephesians 2 talks about God's cleansing of our sins and his vision for our lives but it is one particular part that in reading a Bible study about visionaries I did not expect to stumble upon.  For months I have been trying to find a verse that spoke of something regarding a "foreigner in a foreign land" and I guess God did not mean for me to write about it until today because no matter my best efforts did not produce a single hit for that verse.  

I have to digress a little though...My dad, being the strong man of faith that he was, always told us to make sure we read the whole chapter a verse came from because religion can take scripture out of context and twist it to any belief.  So, when I read a Bible study I usually feel led to read the entire chapter the devotional references in order to get the full context of the scripture.  Today, of all days, I found the verse for which I had been searching.  Thankfully the verse was very much about being created as God's workmanship and our paths being ordained by his hand, but in reading further he talks about a time when we were without Christ.  I want to be honest in saying that the verses that followed spoke regarding the circumcised and uncircumcised, but the current application gave me pause.  In verse twelve it says "That at that time ye were without Christ, being aliens from the commonwealth of Israel, and strangers from the covenants of promise, having no hope, and without God in the world:"

Now, I have had many talks with my father, which is why I originally started this blog.  Now that my father is gone, I have the opportunity and blessing of being near my mother and having my own talks with her.  What you may not know is that my mother is an immigrant.  She has no accent, she does not speak very often of her background and by all accounts no one would ever know that she carried a greencard, a fascinating piece of paper I was always intrigued to see as a child.  Until my mother was in her 50's she was not allowed to vote because she was not a naturalized citizen.  I got to be present on that very proud day that she received her citizenship and it is a moment in my life I will never forget. See, mom grew up in the Netherlands, she was born during World War II and remembers various things about the war even as a very young child.   Her father fought in the war and, for reasons which are not clear, was placed in a concentration camp.  While he was there he was tested on and contracted tuberculosis which he would die of after returning home to his family after the war ended.  My grandmother married a man who lived in the United States and my mother traveled alone via airplane to the United States, the youngest immigrant to arrive by plane at the time.  Mom was not placed in an English as a second language classroom.  At nine years old she was integrated into the classroom and by immersing herself in the culture learned the things she needed to know.  Her mother was a master seamstress and helped support her girls by making custom clothing for people in the community.  She did masterful things like turning a dresser into several pieces of furniture and going to high end stores, examining clothing and making her own patterns out of newspaper.  She was the original meaning of 'breaking a glass ceiling',  She was an innovator, creative, hard working, desirous of independence and raising two beautiful young girls to be respectful, lovely women.  She saw America as a land of opportunity.  She saw Americans as part of the soldiers that fought to win World War II and bring her husband home. The most important thing that she did was instill in my mother a sense of respect and deep patriotism to our country.  I was blessed that my mother shared these sentiments and taught them to her children.

However, in this America, I feel like a foreigner in a foreign land, an alien in the commonwealth of our society.  Every day, despite my best efforts to ignore it, I hear of another shooting or another senseless murder that did not have to happen.  There is a mark on our land that needs cleansing, a revival of our souls that needs to occur.  It is as if "we the people" can no longer co-exist with one another.  I feel ashamed that any life is lost because of a senseless act of violence, and I want to address the problem without getting into a rhetoric about any current event because the reality is that it is a spiritual problem.  We have enveloped ourselves in a movie star lifestyle of having the most expensive car, the grandest house, the best technology, sending our kids out to be mini sports superstars, upgrading until our pocket books are so strapped that we are one disaster away from our castle crumbling down to the ground.  I feel lost.  I feel like a ship floating in the middle of an ocean and I do not know where I am.  I am not afraid to admit it. I feel like my faith sets me apart from others and makes me some kind of pariah if I say or do anything that is socially unacceptable to any other religion, creed, sexual orientation, race, income level, and the list could go on.  However, I read further in that chapter and God spoke words that we all need to remember, we need to reach out and let others know.  In verse 18 he says, "For through him we both have access by one Spirit unto the Father."  We can be one because we all have access to Christ and through him we can unite in peace, we only need to act on what God has already given us.  

Something I have seen in many of the negative interactions on the news is the picking of sides and determining that one group of people is right versus wrong.  It pains me to see that there does not seem to be anyone that wants to create a solution for any of the situations and the only people speaking up are those that have chosen their side.  This is where, today, I change my blog to Talks with my Mother.  Thank you, Jesus, for giving my momma a powerful spirit and a love for you. Today my mom said that for months now four words have been going through her head, she spoke of how those words had finally come into good use today.  It was not until I returned home and thought long and hard about her words that I truly appreciated their power.  In John 13 we read of the last supper and Jesus at one point got up from the table and washed all of the disciples' feet.  At this point he knew who would betray him, yet he washed his feet.  My mother's four words were "Jesus. Washed. Judas'. Feet."  What would happen if we began to wash the feet of our enemies?  What message would it send to those who had talked behind your back, hurt you deeply, betrayed you or to those that had done unspeakable things to you to see you drop to your knees, remove their shoes and wash their feet?  We need to learn to walk humbly with our God, because he humbled himself before the very person that was responsible for him being beaten and battered, hung on a cross and suffered a painful death.  Would any or as many of the problems exist in our world today if we humbled ourselves enough to wash the feet of our enemy, or what if we just washed the feet of someone who felt wronged by race or creed or lifestyle or religious practices?  What would happen if WE laid down OUR pride and humbled ourselves enough to perform a loving act of servitude to those we oppose?  Would it allow us all a chance to take a moment to stop and in the silence see that this hatred only creates more hatred?

In silence volumes are spoken.  Let this be a challenge that, instead of protest or hurtful words, you prostrate yourself before your opposition and silently wash their feet.

The Strength to Rise

I always considered my dad to be the strongest man I knew.  I have often referred to him as a stalwart oak or my own version of John Wayne, and he was very much those pictures of a quiet, unmoving presence in my life.  I will never forget the day that I got a taste of where his strength came from because it had to be my strength.  On the day that would mark the beginning of my dad’s last battle with cancer he was scheduled for surgery to remove parts of his jawbone where a tumor was growing and to begin the next fight against this disease.  The surgeon returned to inform us that the cancer had spread and was more extensive than expected and more invasive surgery would need to be performed.  It all started to blur together at that point, nothing even seemed real.  Words that seemed Latin and courses of treatment and more surgery came like a rolling tide that never seemed to ebb.  At one point, dad ended up in the ICU because of the extent of his surgery and my mom, my sister and I where the first three people to see him. 

None of us were prepared for the sight of our much weakened father lying in that hospital bed.  We all said hello, talked to him in his unconscious state, and my mom and sister quietly cried behind a curtain out of his hearing and sight.  I couldn’t cry.  At that moment I knew I had to be strong, I don’t even know for what now, but I didn’t shed a tear.  Now many would say, no big deal, right?  Except I am a cry baby, always have been.  Every time something overwhelming would happen in my life, I cried and my dad would say “Steph, why are you crying over something you can’t change?  Crying won’t fix anything.”  I remember thinking, with teenage attitude of course, that if crying wouldn’t fix it then what would?  Those words reverberated in my head, standing in that cold white room staring at the strongest man I knew wage the battle for his life.

Yesterday, my family was invited to attend a Resurrection Pageant that followed Jesus’ walk in Jerusalem to his crucifixion.  It started out traversing through a busy marketplace to an outdoor message and miraculous healings from the actor portraying Jesus.  As the pageant progressed it reminded me of an important example to us all of stalwart strength and unmoving spirit.  In an age where political correctness and fairness reign above all, we often forget the pain Christ suffered to the cross.  Imagine, knowing you are the Son of the most Almighty, that you have legions of angels that with one word would destroy earth to rescue you and yet you remain to be beaten with leather straps laced with barbs that tore away flesh; a crown of long, sharp thistles was pushed deep into your scalp.  After being weakened from these beatings, you are brought to bear an impossibly heavy cross up a hill to your death, falling under its weight, only to be beaten to continue.  Once atop that hill spikes are pounded, with each drive of a hammer, further into your wrists and ankles, as the full weight of your body bears down on these already tender wounds.  People stand to ridicule you as you wait for the end, for Christ to bear all our transgressions and become so hideous his Father forsook him. 

It is too much for this Cry Baby to bear.  Only Christ had the strength to bear that kind of fear, that kind of humiliation, that kind of pain.  He knew ME in ALL of my sin and chose to selflessly and blamelessly bear the stupid things I do upon his body.  Each drive of that spike was for something not worthy of that suffering, but HE felt the need to offer me salvation.  Each of us bear unbelievable sin, we bear the guilt of things past and present, and Christ, in the most selfless of love, bore all of it for us that we may be worthy to look on God’s face when we die.  This Cry Baby figured out where that strength came from, it came from God.  Only God can take the most impossible of situations and turn it into something beautiful.  It is not in our own strength as humans that we bear the weight of what the world asks us to carry.

Something even more miraculous happened three days later, Christ AROSE!  As a symbol of God’s victory over our sin, he allowed victory over death and Christ was risen.  When we, in all of our sin, come to Christ for forgiveness and ask for his salvation, our souls rise out of the darkness and into the light of God’s love.  Today, as you travel to Easter service or hunt eggs or gather around family, remember that this entire weekend is symbolic of God’s love for you, even in the most darkened corners of your life, God can shine his light and make you whole.  The strength I found when I lost my dad was that he was seeing God’s face, that he was whole and rejoicing in Heaven. 

I leave you with a chapter, I couldn’t choose a verse because each part is so important, Isaiah 53 (KJV):

1Who hath believed our report? and to whom is the arm of the Lord revealed?

2For he shall grow up before him as a tender plant, and as a root out of a dry ground: he hath no form nor comeliness; and when we shall see him, there is no beauty that we should desire him.

3He is despised and rejected of men; a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief: and we hid as it were our faces from him; he was despised, and we esteemed him not.

4Surely he hath borne our griefs, and carried our sorrows: yet we did esteem him stricken, smitten of God, and afflicted.

5But he was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities: the chastisement of our peace was upon him; and with his stripes we are healed.

6All we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned every one to his own way; and the Lord hath laid on him the iniquity of us all.

7He was oppressed, and he was afflicted, yet he opened not his mouth: he is brought as a lamb to the slaughter, and as a sheep before her shearers is dumb, so he openeth not his mouth.

8He was taken from prison and from judgment: and who shall declare his generation? for he was cut off out of the land of the living: for the transgression of my people was he stricken.

9And he made his grave with the wicked, and with the rich in his death; because he had done no violence, neither was any deceit in his mouth.

10Yet it pleased the Lord to bruise him; he hath put him to grief: when thou shalt make his soul an offering for sin, he shall see his seed, he shall prolong his days, and the pleasure of the Lord shall prosper in his hand.

11He shall see of the travail of his soul, and shall be satisfied: by his knowledge shall my righteous servant justify many; for he shall bear their iniquities.

12Therefore will I divide him a portion with the great, and he shall divide the spoil with the strong; because he hath poured out his soul unto death: and he was numbered with the transgressors; and he bare the sin of many, and made intercession for the transgressors.

Troubled Waters

The times in which we live are turbulent.  It seems like every day we hear of another mass shooting, anger brews between religions and races and things in our personal lives crumble.  Amidst all of this turmoil, I have heard and seen many people discussing "why does God allow this to happen"?

I know that as I watched my father's health slowly crumble, as I watched the strongest man I knew lose the battle of his life, I questioned, "Why, God?"  Why did my dad, a pillar of your precedents, have to endure such pain?  I have asked myself that question for three years now, and I think I finally got my answer in a most unusual way.  Let it be said that as soon as my fingers start to type a post, I feel my dad's spirit and can almost hear him whisper to God to show me the way.  I hope these small journeys to increasing my faith in God help open your eyes to his mercy and grace.

It all started with a song.

While preparing for an impromptu trip to my dad's hometown, our YouTube mix started a song whose lyrics referenced Peter's faith tested as he walked on roaring waves to Jesus.  You may not remember this story as much as the parable of the loaves and fishes in the same chapter.  However, after the miracle of the loaves and fishes, Christ went on a mountain to pray and sent his disciples to a ship across the sea.  A storm ensued, and Jesus walked above the waves to the boat.  The disciples were afraid and thought Jesus was a ghost.  Christ assured them saying, "It is I, be not afraid," but in Peter's distrust he asked that Jesus allow him to walk on the water.  Peter, in his fear, lost sight of Jesus and began to sink, at which time Christ saved him from the waves and calmed the storm.

Oh, we of little faith!  Our lives are filled with troubled waters, these are not created by God!  God clearly states in Ephesians 6:12, "For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places."  Christ did not create that storm to test Peter's faith, I believe that storm was created by a darkness of the world and Christ used it as a lesson.

How many of us suffer through loss, failed marriage, financial difficulties, poor health, addiction, worry?  How many of us feel helpless to the growing unrest in our country, that the next mass shooting might be in our hometown, things that make us fearful of other people and other religions? God, in his omnipotence, did not decide that our lives were going too smoothly and decided to throw us despair, to punish our sins. These are troubled waters created by principalities, rulers of the darkness of the world.  Our failure is in recognizing from where they come.  Christ did not send Peter into the ocean amidst roaring waves to his death, he asked Peter to keep his eyes on Christ, to look above the churning waters, and walk safely to his side.  How many times do we let our grief, anger, disillusionment, fear become the troubled waters standing between us and what wonderful things Christ has in store for us?  I am a Peter, I often find myself staring at the ocean and forgetting to look above the waves.  I am guilty of sinking and requiring quick rescue by God's grace.  Can God calm the waters before we ever start that walk, yes, but then to whom would we need to rely on and have faith?

I am reminded of a hymn I remember my dad singing in a deep, sometimes off key voice, a song penned by Horatio Spafford in 1873.  Spafford had lost everything financially in 1871 during the Great Chicago Fire.  A successful attorney, his finances continued on a downturn as a financial crisis hit in 1873, at which time he decided to travel to Europe with his wife and four daughters.  In a moments decision to stay behind to take care of financial business, his wife and daughters boarded the ship.  He would receive a telegram from his wife that read "saved alone..." after their ship sank in the Atlantic and his four daughters were lost.  On his way to comfort his wife, he penned the lyrics to the hymn "It Is Well With My Soul".

When peace like a river, attendeth my way,
When sorrows like sea billows roll;
Whatever my lot, Thou hast taught me to know,^a
It is well, it is well, with my soul.

Refrain:
It is well, (it is well),
With my soul, (with my soul)
It is well, it is well, with my soul.

Though Satan should buffet, though trials should come,
Let this blest assurance control,
That Christ has regarded my helpless estate,
And hath shed His own blood for my soul.

My sin, oh, the bliss of this glorious thought!
My sin, not in part but the whole,
Is nailed to the cross, and I bear it no more,
Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, O my soul!

For me, be it Christ, be it Christ hence to live:
If Jordan above me shall roll,
No pang shall be mine, for in death as in life,
Thou wilt whisper Thy peace to my soul.

But Lord, 'tis for Thee, for Thy coming we wait,
The sky, not the grave, is our goal;
Oh, trump of the angel! Oh, voice of the Lord!
Blessed hope, blessed rest of my soul.

And Lord, haste the day when my faith shall be sight,
The clouds be rolled back as a scroll;
The trump shall resound, and the Lord shall descend,
A song in the night, oh my soul! ^b

^a "know" (at the end of the third line) was changed to "say".
^b "A song in the night, oh my soul" (last line)
was changed to "Even so, it is well with my soul

Spafford would have three more children, lose one to Scarlet Fever and have his church wrongly attribute his misfortune to divine punishment.  He and his wife would then move to Jerusalem and form a group called the American Colony that became trusted by Christians, Jews and Muslims.

May we all be able to look above the troubled waters.  As Spafford so eloquently put, "The Sky, not the grave, is our goal."  No matter the heartache and despair we feel in this life we struggle to cling to, our goal is to keep our eyes on Christ, to keep our eyes on the sky and realize this world is not our goal.  I have felt loss, despair, heartache.  I have shaken my fist at God and asked him to free me through death.  I have stood at the helm of my life, looked upon the storm casting my ship through wave after wave and thrown my anger at God.  In response, in all His grace and glory, He continues to hold his hand out to me and remind me to keep my eyes on Him and look above the waves.  May someday I have the faith of Peter, to walk wholly and completely into the arms of my Saviour and find peace.  Until then, I will continue to ask for God's grace for all of us, that He reminds us of His love when our lives seem hopeless.  May we remember to look for Him in all things like a ship's captain looks for a lighthouse and be drawn to safety by His light.  May the light He has placed in your heart be the lighthouse for someone else's ship lost at sea.  Thanks, dad and my heavenly father, for another nudge in the right direction.  Shine bright, little light!  

Shine On!

I did not shed a tear today.  Not one little bitter stream of water trailed down my rosy cheek.  I did not huddle under the covers and wish this day would end.  

Something no one tells you about grief is that life goes on. As you bury a loved one there was still traffic on the highway, people still went to work, children played on the playground, babies were born and families gathered around a table for dinner. This is a significant part of grief, because when you lose someone dear to you, it leaves a gaping part of your world unfilled.  The things that person did, the simplest of things, become profoundly voided in your life and I think that is why you feel like the world should halt, if not just for a moment, to make significant the life you saw as so important.  

Today would be my daddy's 79th birthday.  We would celebrate this day with family gathering together, we would have his favorite cake, we would talk and laugh and nothing significant and everything significant would happen all in the same breath. My dad was not a Nobel Peace Prize winner, a great inventor, a profound leader or a star of the silver screen.  No flags will be raised to half mast, no twenty one gun salutes will be sounded, no parades made in his honor.  However, I still face, each year, a cataclysmic sized gap in my world that otherwise keeps spinning.  Apple cake and my dad's silly jokes, talking about random places and searching maps for long lost treasures from trips past would mean nothing to anyone other than me, but those tiny tidbits are what shape the memories that signify a loss to those of us left behind.  

My dad was a bright light to the world around him.  He loved God and made no excuses as to why. He prayed for anyone he felt needed it and read the Bible like some of us read the New York Times Best Seller list.  He quoted Scripture with chapter and verse, stood firm on the use of the King James Version.  He loved my mom like no other, he brought her back to God and was a spiritual leader of our family.  I have more memories, big and small, that could fill this blogpost every day for years. But, the significance of this one is today he is missed, every day he is missed.  This year, to mark this day, I created an art piece that I am working on having printed on t-shirts.  My dad loved 'This Little Light of Mine' and in honor of him I am reminding all those around me to shine your light bright for all those around you.  

Matthew 5:16King James Version (KJV)16 Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father which is in heaven.

#BeautyOnTheInside! A Message to My Middle School Daughter and All Her Friends!

Today I am feeling under the weather and while taking a rest and browsing Facebook, I came across an article that both intrigued me and left me incensed at the same time.  First, I have to warn you, my views are my views, if you don't like them, walk.  I don't care if I seem rude or if your views differ from mine, respect my differences and I will respect yours, nothing you say will change my mind.  Spewing hatred of my views will only make others or myself attack yours and it is a vicious cycle that accomplishes nothing.  

Now that I have posted that disclaimer let me begin, I have a newly teenaged daughter. From the first second she was laid in my arms I have thought she was beautiful.  As she has grown, we have adopted being very open with her about any situation, we do not hide behind closed doors to talk about finances, our irritations or our parenting decisions.  We have taught her to love God, to ask him for guidance and to consider his precepts before making decisions.  I have also been completely honest with my daughter about sex, she talks openly with me when she has a question and I have answered the questions, given every slang word I am privy to and discussed her ideas on the subject.  With that said, here is what I really want to say.

The article that inspired this post was regarding a mother's letter to the middle school girls that told her son he was hot.  Well, I have a letter to my middle school girl too and it has nothing to do with who you thought was cute, but everything to do with how you present yourself.  I am writing this directly to my daughter not some fictitious girl or someone I saw in the great beyond doing something I didn't agree with.  However, if you are out there and no one has bothered to tell you this, by all means, let me be your mama voice for a minute.

My beautiful girl,

From the moment you were laid in my arms I knew that you were going to be a force to be reckoned with, my quiet storm.  Each year that you grew I never paid mind to what you wore, how others looked at you, how others viewed my parenting skills or anything other than keeping you safe and healthy and loved. Something happened around the end of elementary school that I never expected, I noticed men, that is right, MEN, looking you up and down.  You were not dressed provocatively, we had done nothing to make you look older, or painted your face with makeup.  It was then that I realized I had to keep you safe, healthy and loved in a whole different perspective.

When I say you are beautiful it is not measured by your outward appearance.  I see your kind heart, your willingness to help others, your happy go lucky spirit, your ability to adapt to change, your perseverance.  The world will tell you differently, but your soul is the most beautiful thing about you. When a boy says you are beautiful, it may come from a different place, a place of lust and desire for your physical appearance.  It will make you feel powerful, almost invincible, to know you have that effect on someone, however, remember that he doesn't see your soul.  If you have to date, when the time is right and though your dad would rather you wait until you are thirty, look for that boy that loves you with messy hair, mud all over you and laughs along with you even when you look your worst.

You can wear a bikini, a low cut shirt or shorts that leave nothing to the imagination.  The pop stars and the fashion magazines are correct, it will attract whomever you wish it to attract.  You can sashay your hips, puff out your lips, bat your eyelashes and flirt until you fall over, and it will work. Boys will line up to date you, to take you places, buy you things.  As your mom and a girl that felt all these things, though you may call me stupid or crazy, they won't fill your heart with what it ultimately longs for, that feeling of everlasting love. That power you feel over a boy's arousal is only temporary, and without an eternal commitment to only love you, their desire will dissipate if you give yourself away.

More than anything, you do not need a boy or a man to make you more than what you already are. You are strong and brave, you are smart, you are kind, you are so many things on your own they are too numerous to list.  God made men (and boys) to desire a help mate, he made woman out of a man's rib to remind man that a piece of him is missing without that perfect piece to complete him.  This will sound silly, but you are that rib bone for someone God intended just for you.  Every path you take and every decision you make will lead you to that person and those decisions will determine if you are whole or broken when you get there.  As your mom, I hope and pray that you are whole, that you don't get broken by all these stones in your way to womanhood.  I pray you rise above your peers' attitudes that their beauty is validated by lust and desire.  I pray that you realize how awesome you are all on your own, that you come to the realization that sex has nothing to do with how special you are.  I pray for the now boy that will become the man you fall in love with, that he is too dodging all the pitfalls in his path and that his decisions are molding him into something worthy of what an awesome, exquisite creation you are becoming.

In becoming even more awesome you have so much more to do before you are ready to commit to fulfilling someone else's needs.  See the world, graduate high school, graduate college, have fun with your friends, write, draw, paint, run, fly, soar, climb, hike, trek.  Do everything you want to do and then, when all these things would seem better shared with someone else, begin searching for that someone else.  In the process, don't forget that you are still exquisite, worthy of only the best and most perfect love.

I have been honest with you and told you that dad and I had our fair share of mistakes on our path to each other.  We were not immune to those same feelings you will and are experiencing.  Life after making those decisions was hard.  Your dad and I both came to our relationship broken, and instead of being whole, we had pieces missing and repairs to be made.  I don't doubt that we were meant for each other, that we are the completion of each other, but I do wonder what greater things we would have accomplished if we came together whole and unbroken by the world.  I hope that by navigating that path before you, I can help you to choose to come to a relationship whole.

On your mission to becoming you, the urge to chase boys or be noticed will arise, fight the urge to lower your standards and instead wait patiently for that perfect person instead of the person right now.  They will just take a little piece of you with them and they won't even realize how special having that is.  Stand tall on your own and, when the time is right, be ready to stand next to someone that treasures all the pieces of you, good and bad.

The God we believe in sees our future, to the end of our days, he knows your struggles, he loves you unconditonally.  Seek God and he will lead you exactly where you need to be.  Love God because his love is everlasting, never ending and beyond even death.  He will lift you when you feel down, he will help you be strong when you feel weak, he will make you feel beautiful when the whole world makes you feel horrible.  It says in Psalms that you are beautifully and wonderfully made, that God knit you together, he knows every part of you because he created you.  Who better to help us with ourselves than our Creator?  

You are treasured unconditionally by someone greater than any person on the earth, even the mom and dad that love you more than all others.  God knows the number of hairs on your head, let any boy know that if he loves you how you deserve to be loved he can start counting the hairs on your head, because God loves you enough to already know.  If you find a boy that is willing to do that you might have found the right one, if not, don't sell yourself short by giving anything up to a second string nobody.

And lastly, I love you more than life itself.  I would step in front of any danger you face to protect you.  If you make a mistake, if you make the wrong choice, if you need help out of a hole, I will be there with my super mom cape on ready for battle.  Don't ever think you are alone or beyond my help or that your mom/dad will not help you.  I LOVE YOU!


Now, before I end this very long post, I have to say something to that mom coming from another mother of a middle school GIRL.  Those girls weren't intentionally trying to be a stumbling block to your son.  Most likely they were boy crazy girls that were not raised the same way you are choosing to raise your son.  I would never bash the way someone else was raised, only suggest to my own child that it isn't how they were raised to act.  A valuable lesson can be learned by your son in that situation, perhaps he needed only to thank them for the compliment.  No need to invite them to his beach towel or frolic with them in the pool, but a simple acknowledgement of respect and that he appreciated the compliment but isn't interested instead of a snide "like I care" might have squashed the situation.  It was no matter that they were in bikinis or a burka, as my mom always said, men can find a curve in a flour sack.  Just teach your boys, as some of us are teaching our girl,s to be respectful and courteous of each other and leave it at that, a lot of children these days are not coming from the same place as your son.  Or feel free to use the "counting the hairs on my head" thing, it is under no copyright (insert winky face).  Oh, and don't check my Facebook, I am getting ready to post a duck faced selfie with a #duckfacedselfie #beautyontheinside #dontneedyourapproval!