MY BLOG POSTS

Thirteen wasn’t my best year. I was heavily into perms. Addicted to hairspray. Hungover on blue eyeshadow. I slathered on baby oil when I went to the beach, where I read the entire Sweet Valley High series in one sitting. My double-layered shirts always matched my double-layered socks, which slouched above my cool white Reebok hightops.

(This is me at a family reunion in 1988 — my hair is so big it blends into the background. That’s my sister, Alexis, next to me. I could have cropped her out, but I didn’t want to be alone in my back-in-the-day humiliation)

But I did do one great thing when I was 13: I started praying for my future husband. A Sunday school teacher suggested it, and I thought it was a great idea. I didn’t know who he was or where he was, but I determined to begin praying for him.

What I didn’t know is my future husband was 19 at that time. He had just started college. He had grown up as a pastor’s kid, so he knew the Lord. But he hadn’t really been living like he knew Him. But Dave says he remembers being 19 and standing on his college campus and thinking, “I need to make a choice. Either I’m going to serve Jesus or I’m not. I’m tired of sitting on the fence.”

Thankfully, he chose to serve Jesus.

Would he have made that choice had I not prayed for him? I don’t know. What I do know is that God impressed upon my teenage heart to pray for my future spouse, and I did.

Dave and I didn’t meet for another six years. But I was praying for him. And he continued to make some pretty great decisions…like meeting me. We have been married now for 17 years. Dave is one of the godliest people I know. He is a great father and husband and friend.

I take all the credit for that.

Well, me and Jesus.

And big hair.

One of my former students is attending a Christian college. I asked if her school had a dress code. She said yes. I was waiting to hear a long list of what could and could not be worn on campus. Instead, she told me their policy was just seven words:

“No crack in front or in back”

I laughed. Because the images that popped into my head were pretty funny.

But, seriously,  does it matter what you wear? Do Christians really need to dress differently? Or is that just for those strict ultra-conservative folks who want to suck all the fun out of life whenever they can?

Here’s what I think: how we dress is important. It reflects who we are, how we think of ourselves. If you look at my daughters, you’ll get a glimpse of their personalities right away, just by what they wear. Emma, 14, loves fashion. She shops for hours to find just the right outfit, wanting every part of it to go together. If the super-cute shoes she bought are a little uncomfortable…oh, well. Ellie, 12, is much more of a free spirit. She wears what’s comfortable. And when she finds something she really likes – like her knit cap or her fuzzy moccasins – she wears them every day. Does she care if they don’t exactly go with her outfit? Nope. She likes them. That’s all that matters. They are different people and their styles reflect that. I love that! I wouldn’t want cookie cutter kids.

But here’s another thing: how we dress doesn’t just affect us. Other people have to see  us. And, girls, guys are looking at what you wear. And what you don’t wear. Guys are WAY more visual than we are. When we see a guy in short shorts, our first instinct is to gag (really — what are they thinking??). But when guys see girls in short shorts, their brain starts going places we, as sisters in Christ, don’t want it to go.

God made us beautiful, girls. But there are certain parts of our anatomy that need to stay covered. We don’t want to advertise what is not for sale. Yes, I know – it’s hard to find clothes that cover “the cracks in front and back.” But those clothes are out there, I promise.

So, yes, this is a “mom” post. But we moms aren’t out to get you or make your life miserable or keep you hopelessly out of style. We love you and want the very best for you. We want people to see you, not just for who you are, but for whose you are — a treasured daughter of the King.

So, please, just say no to cracks.

This is my son, Thomas. He is 10. He loves soccer, Big Macs, and potty humor.

He does not, however, love girls.

Yet.

The other day, Thomas and I were talking, and we got on the subject of dating. I told him that someday, he was going to like girls. Really like them. “You’ll even want to kiss them.” I said.

His reply? “Now that’s just nasty!”

So I decided to write a blog about the conversation so I could remind him of it when the hormones begin to kick in.

Just kidding.

Kind of.

But it did give me an idea for this post. It reminded me that, though Thomas can’t imagine he’ll ever want to kiss girls, I know he will. Because I am older, I have lived longer, and I have observed the behavior of preteens and teens, I know what’s coming, even if he doesn’t. And my husband and I are trying to prepare Thomas for what’s coming, even if Thomas doesn’t see it and – most definitely – does not appreciate it.

I talk to Thomas about girls because, when those hormones hit and he sees some cute little girl across the schoolyard, I want him to be ready for the next thought that will come into his mind. And the one after that. I want him to battle thoughts that would dishonor God and disrespect that girl. I want him to control his impulses so that when God does bring “the one” into his life, he is ready for her.

God does the same thing for us. He teaches us through his word how to resist temptations, so that when we face them, we are ready. He teaches us through others – sometimes others who might be annoying or frustrating – to make us more patient. He teaches us through difficult circumstances so we can turn around and help others in the same situation. God brings us into and out of places for reasons that we don’t always see at the time, but reasons that are for our good, to help us become who he desires for us to become.

So listen to Him. The Heavenly Father knows best.