What We Can Tell All The Daughters...


I watch my daughter, as she reads her Bible, using a pen to mark her favorite parts. I watch her, and the thought invades that maybe...

maybe it's gonna be alright.

Maybe all the soul sucking trash floating around the internet, on TV, in real life..maybe it's not going to win and light really can invade darkness.

Society isn't changing. Society never changes. Darkness spins its webs, shouts its lies, rips the sacred from the hands of the holy. I saw the images, the pictures of flesh completely exposed, floating around the web last week. I wanted to run and grab my girls, to grab their little faces and tell them they are holy, that every part of them is sacred. I wanted to make sure they know they are precious, a gift, that they are filled with light and worth.

I wanted to look them in the face and tell them.

Then I see her, being beautiful. I see her scribbling cursive notes into her journal with the same pen that scratched lines under her favorite verse...and my heart rolls around inside my chest. I see her, and I remember that beauty isn't really taught, but it is something the heart catches and tucks away deep inside.

Sometimes, we put ourselves on display just to hear words that we think will capture and heal our soul. Sometimes, we give away our sacred because we think the giving will give us back the gift of worth. 

The thing I want to tell them, these two little faces with big eyes full of trust staring back at me, is that their worth has been calculated, very carefully, and the price has been set, that it was set before they entered this world through my own womb. I want to make sure they know, that they believe the price listed for their soul, for their bodies, that it is a price no one on this Earth could pay.

No one. 

I want to just make sure, if I've forgotten to say it lately, that they hear me say how much they are worth...

Romance is real, love is real, and it looks nothing like the cheap imitation the world offers. Worth is calculated and it doesn't look like those pictures, or that video, or that song

I just want to make sure I tell her that a picture has been made that calculates her worth, a picture that is more beautiful than all the ones floating around her. When the world paints cheap imitations of worth for my girls to see, I want to be sure I show them the real picture of worth. The one that is wounded and bleeding and dying on a piece of wood lodged in a mountainside...

a picture of their worth. 

Then, I see her there, being beautiful. I see her being holy and sacred right before my eyes. I see the light invading the darkness through her little hands writing out words of life. I see priceless and beauty being displayed through her, and I exhale...because light will always win.

I breath deep because grace is dancing, despite the unraveling of the world around her. 

Even when she can't unsee or unhear or unfeel the darkness being thrown at her, she can see and hear and feel grace calling to her, always calling to her. And I will always be here, showing her that picture of her worth...and grace will always be there, whispering how priceless she is...

and she will dance on top of the cheap imitations, the soul sucking pictures the world is throwing at her, and she will remember her worth...

and at the end of the day, every day, when I fear the world has been too much, that maybe it has darkened her soul...I will bend down low, just as grace does, and I will whisper to her heart what is always being whispered to mine,

The King delights in you...

The King delights in you...

She is clothed with strength and dignity. She laughs without fear of the future.
 Proverbs 31:25

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