I know this is an odd picture, but I promise it has a purpose. This post will follow a series of thoughts and conversations that started with the above picture of Lily’s curls.

I took the picture intending to write a blog about the perfect curls. How many of us would have killed to have these curls? How many of us all but burnt our hair off as we got ready for prom trying to create those perfectly twisted, bouncy curls that look as if when we woke up that morning God had changed the texture of our hair? My child wakes up every morning with the perfect spirals. Granted, you have to lift up the top layer of loose and frizzy curls to see those spirals but they are there nonetheless.

This led me to thoughts about how I hope Lily always likes her hair and never sees it as ugly or a nuisance or wishing it were a different texture or color. On the opposite side of that I hope she never becomes vain about it.

This led to a conversation at church on Sunday with two good friends. How do we, the church, teach our teenagers and children to love themselves as they are, to look for something in the opposite sex that goes agnasit what culture would tell them to look for, and most importantly, to seek after God above all else. (The conversation really did start with curls)

How do we teach our young women that negative attention is not good attention and you can be stylish without wearing pockets with zippers that stores like Abercrombie try to pass off as shorts? How do we teach our young men to look at a young woman’s heart instead of her body?

These are questions that I’ve never had to answer until now…or maybe I should have been thinking about it when I was in college and seminary but was too inward focused to see what was going on around me. Maybe I just didn’t care enough. I don’t know and it really does not matter. Because now I see the importance. I see the urgency. I see the need. I see the responsibility of the church to help and equip parents as they raise their children. I do not think it is the job of the church to raise children of its members. I do think it is our job to teach, train, and mentor alongside those parents all in efforts of pointing our children, no matter how old they may be, to Christ. It is a great responsibility. 

So the questions lies before us as we move forward as a church, “How do we train and teach our teenagers and children to live in the world but not be of the world?” What does that look like fleshed out? We have some ideas but if you have suggestions please let me know.

I have been thinking lately that I have led somewhat of a charmed life up to this point.
I have never had anything really terrible happen to me, and maybe I am going to jinx it by writing this post.

But now that I am getting older, as well as my friends, I realize that “charm” is short lived. I have never suffered the loss of a child, had someone I love battle cancer, been through divorce, suffered abuse…but people in my life have. I have held hands, shed tears, felt sympathy, comforted, held on tightly, offered words of encouragement, and carried burdens. It is in those moments when I find myself  thinking, “What do I say? I cannot relate to this.” And I begin to feel guilt…guilt over having two beautiful, healthy children, guilt that my husband is kind and good and faithful to me, guilt that my parents are happily married instead of bitterly divorced, guilt about the decisions I have made in my life.  But then several things sink in. 1. My life is really not that “charmed”. I have had to deal with things just like everyone else. They may not be as hard to get through but they have still been hard. 2. Instead of feeling guilty about my life and my family I should be forever grateful and thankful that I have been so blessed. 3. Life can change in an instant. One day I will be the one being comforted for some reason. 4. When I compare myself to others, in any way, the result is hardly ever positive.

I also have realized that in those moments when friends and family are suffering the most unimaginable kind of pain, words are not always necessary. The most important thing is not whether or not I can empathize but that I am present. Because sometimes all that is needed is a shoulder to lean and cry on in silence.

Today we were all in the backyard hanging out, enjoying the one day of nice weather we’ve had in almost three weeks…when suddenly the loud thunder of a lawn mower sounded. A scared Caleb, jumped, froze for a 1/2 a second and then ran to hold on to my leg.

What a neat picture of how God is there when we are scared for us to hold on to. But then I thought that while I was the person that Caleb immediately ran to, God is often not the first person I have turned to when frightened, dismayed, fearful, stressed, full of anxiety, etc.

But I am learning to…albeit slowly. Why I choose other people, food, TV, social media, etc to help me through difficult times instead of the One who knows the number of hairs on my head I will never know. But I am so grateful that He is teaching me to trust Him more and turn to Him first in all things.

Psalm 34:4 “I sought (some version says cried out to) the LORD and he answered me; he delivered me from all my fears.”

Sin is a nasty, ugly thing that has put a great divide between us and our Creator. During the past four weeks at church I have been reminded of my sin and its severity, its weight, its burden, its cost.

My sin deserves punishment…it deserves death. Why? Because I, an unholy, unrighteous woman cannot stand before a holy, righteous God in the filth of sin that covers me.

But what makes the Gospel so great, so amazing is that God looks at Satan and says you have been defeated. My children are no longer a slave to sin and to you. They are mine and I am theirs.

How? Our punishment was paid by the only one who could pay it…God himself in human form.

These verses of “It Is Well” reminds of my sin, the price that was paid for it and that I am no longer a slave to my sin. I am forgiven.

        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!