Dear Husband.

Dear Husband,

I see you.

I see you, as you walk in from a long days work, only to become a jungle gym for our busy toddler.

I see you, as you open up new worlds and textures to our girls’ little minds.

I see you, as you teach our girls to treat all living things with respect.

I see you, as you fill our daughter’s plate with food so I can enjoy a hot meal.

I see you, as you change diapers, clothe our babes, and feed them as I get ready for church.

I see you, as you sing over bubbles, make towel burritos, read Bible stories, and brush little teeth.

I see you, as you run out for donuts on Saturdays to give me just a few more minutes of sleep.

I see you, as you happily pour yourself a bowl of cereal for dinner, instead of insisting on a home-cooked meal.

I see you, as you soothe cries and heal boo-boos, knowing someday you will mend broken hearts.

I see you, as you fall asleep on the couch, waiting for me to finish my work, just because you can’t stand the thought of getting in bed without me.

I see you, as you listen to my guilt and fears, and place my burdens on your shoulders.

I see you, as you long for snuggles on the couch watching Friends, but instead give foot rubs while I pump, yet again.

I see you, as you extend grace when you don’t like the words being said.

I see you, as you place toothpaste on my toothbrush, just to say, “I love you.”

I see you, as you make silly faces and sing silly songs, for a quick smile.

I see you, as you come home to pjs and dirty hair, only to call me beautiful.

I see you, as you spend your days off fixing, re-wiring, and cleaning, making sure our home runs smoothly.

I see you, as you pray and lead our family closer to Christ.

I see you, as your hand reaches for mine in a crowd, telling the world I am yours.

Though my eyes may be diverted, watching, protecting, and nurturing these two precious souls, I will never stop seeing you.

I love you, forever.

Motherhood isn’t beautiful.

I’m in the thick of it. I have a 21 month old, a three-month old, and every other week this fall is spent traveling 5 hours away, only to come home and restart/pack for the next trip. My life right now couldn’t be more un-glamorous. My days are filled with mundane tasks that seem to only pile on one another. I fight a toddler’s strong-will, a baby’s constant hunger, and my own postpartum depression daily. My husband is gone 12 hours out of the day, only to come home and often have to fix the pool, or the mower, or the dog fence, yet again. I currently have 6 loads of laundry waiting to be folded and put up. My floors haven’t tasted the sweet lemon-y pine goodness of PineSol in weeks and weeks. My hair is going on three days, and desperately needs some conditioning. And please, no one look at the state of my back porch, yard, and toes! Motherhood is days of crumbs and back aches, conversations about poop and going potty, shirts that smell rotten, diaper changes and tears, piles of papers and forgotten tasks, photos to edit and dinner to cook, dishes to clean, and carpets to vacuum.

Motherhood isn’t beautiful. But it’s not supposed to be.

The more I learn about motherhood, and this calling God has placed on my life, the more I see it’s ugliness apart from Christ. The tasks associated with mothering are ugly (and often sticky), but it is the process of motherhood that makes this calling into a thing of beauty. Luke 9:23 states, “Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross daily and follow me.” As a believer, it is an act of worship everyday to deny myself and pick up my cross. There’s nothing pretty about dying to my own selfish desires, in fact it requires total surrender. But that daily denial and surrender is just apart of the sanctification process.

The same is true with motherhood. Everyday, I deny myself. I deny my desires. I deny my petty thoughts. I deny living like a victim amidst the chaos surrounding me. Each denial is followed by an action. Whether it is putting away my husband’s clothes, or offering my breast to my child for nourishment. Whether it is stopping what I am doing to let my daughter brush tangles into my hair, or singing to her about her Savior. It is all worship.

When I make motherhood an act of worship. When I set my sights upon the cross, then all becomes beautiful. Gloria Furman states in Treasuring Christ When Your Hands are Full, “In the context of eternity, where Christ is doing his work of reigning over the cosmos, we need to see our mundane moments for what they really are-worship. In the daily (and nightly) work of mothering, we’re given tons of invitations to worship God as he reminds us of the hope we have because of his gospel.”

Choosing to worship in the middle of the mundane does not come natural to my sinful heart. And far too often, I choose victim of mundane instead of victory over the mundane. Life as a victim turns invitations to worship our Savior into worship of self. Worship of self then leads to loss of purpose. But choosing victory over the mundane, and worshipping through the sweeping and the cleaning, invites the Creator to inhabit my home with his awe-inspiring presence.Worship through the mundane opens doors for beauty to sweep in and turn isolation into communion, lonliness into fellowship, and insecurity into intimacy.

He alone brings beauty to motherhood, because He created it. And through His beauty, I experience the joy of watching my Star long to do the tasks that often seem so mundane. Through His beauty, I witness the security my girls feel wrapped in my arms. Through His beauty, moments that could frustrate instead turn to bouts of laughter.

1 Corinthians 10:31 tells me to “do everything for the glory of God.” There is beauty to be found in the process of mothering, it takes a denial of self, a heart of worship, and an action to bring Him glory. I have a living room with clothes strewn about, piles of papers to file away, and two precious souls napping. I am going to get up from this chair and meet Him in the midst of all the mundane and ugly, for there I will find His beauty.

To Read: Treasuring Christ When Your Hands Are Full

 

 

 

When reality isn’t so graceful.

If you scroll through Pinterest or Insta for any length of time, you are bound to see a sun-drenched room, a doting daddy, a beautiful, long-haired mama, and precious children all positioned perfectly for that moment in time. No one ever shares the moments or days before or after THAT moment. The picture cannot communicate the frustration heard beneath the parents’ smiles or the tears shed trying to get their little ones to cooperate. Perhaps, the dark circles under the mother’s eyes are photo-shopped out of the picture. Perhaps, the doting dad didn’t even want to be in the shot. Perhaps, the baby is currently sitting in a dirty diaper, and perhaps, the toddler hasn’t napped in days. But, for that moment, for the rest of the world to see, that family looks like they have it all together. And for people like me, even being fully aware of what it takes to get the perfect shot, my expectations are skewed. There’s nothing wrong with the photo itself, in fact, the photo should be praised for how it portrays a family, but it is my perception that is off. And if we’re being honest, my perception has been off for a few weeks.

Writing is therapy for me. Whereas I am reserved in speech, I am open in print. I don’t understand why God made me this way, and far too often I wish my mouth could convey my thoughts the way my hand types them. But alas, I am here, once more pouring my heart over the keyboard, bringing a slew of people I don’t know in, hoping and praying God takes these few words and uses them to minister to hearts.

Everyone tells you how insane life is with two under two. They share their horror stories and their sweet memories, and while their words were meant to encourage, I was often left with feelings of mommy guilt. Did we make a mistake by being “proactive” and starting to try earlier than later for a sibling for our girl? (Let me stop there and say, I fully know that fear is from the pit of Hell, the sweet baby sitting beside me, as I type, is by no means a surprise to my All-knowing God. She was brought forth at this time to accomplish His pleasing and perfect will.) Other fears like, how will I be able to give of myself to a busy toddler, a newborn baby, and a precious husband, all while taking care of my home and myself (in some way)? Will our toddler like her sister? When will I sleep and shower? How will J feel about a house full of girls? The list went on and on, I would lie awake at night swollen and hurting from pregnancy, savoring each kick, all the while trying to pray away the fears Satan placed in my head.

Then, Lettie arrived, and all those irrational fears subsided as I sat in a hospital bed watching my Star hold out her hands for her sister without even seeing her face. As I watched my husband hold both his girls, telling our oldest, his mini, all about her sister. As I smelled that sweet newborn smell, and felt her body match the rhythm of mine. My heart only grew, and for that moment, the image of my family rivaled all those images on Pinterest and Instagram.

Fast forward a few weeks, a massive kidney infection, a bachelorette party, birthday parties, graduation parties, a huge wedding, and a family holiday, a clingy baby, a busy toddler, a home full of projects, a new diet plan (to help Lettie), and learning a new routine, and this mama was left completely spent, sleep deprived, yet an insomniac, and feeling completely lost and out of control. Amid all the hustle and bustle of life, those baby blues had turned into Post-Partum Depression and Anxiety, and simply put at the moment of realization of what was happening, I felt low. Simply low and in a fog.

Those fears that had been put to rest crept back up, but this time those fears have been replaced with an identity crisis, a woman who feels her heart and her head are in complete contrast. A woman who is lonely but wants to be alone. A woman who wants to go and live life, but gets anxiety at the thought of seeing people outside her inner circle. A woman who is sick of laundry, but needs routine and order. A woman who likes her hair, but hates her body. A woman who seeks joy, yet feels a haze of sadness stealing the moments she expected. A woman who feels guilty for dealing with this during a time that is supposed to be filled with excitement. A woman whose home and heart look nothing like the graceful images on the computer or in Parents magazine, despite all her hopes and (unrealistic) expectations.

The reality is that my life isn’t so graceful. I am simply trying to keep my girls alive and thriving, while investing in my husband, and admitting to the fact that I need help and a change in perspective to lift this fog. I am taking the steps to get there:

• Spending time talking with my Wonderful Counselor
• Recognizing the need and asking for help
• Communicating with my husband
• Eating good foods (thank you dairy free)
• Getting outside and being active
• Finding order and routine amongst the mess
• And being real with the world

The picture of my life doesn’t meet my expectations right now, but that doesn’t mean it can’t, and it certainly doesn’t mean that I won’t look back and wish for these days again. The beauty of this moment is that while my reality isn’t graceful, my God is abounding with grace. And it is only through the grace He extends me that I can be at peace again. How thankful I am to know His grace never runs out! Jesus Calling tells me He longs to make my life a glorious adventure. This ungraceful reality is all apart of His grand story, and even in the midst of my sorrow-filled fog, I still trust Him.

Be alert, be present. I’m about to do something brand-new. It’s bursting out! Don’t you see it? There it is! I’m making a road through the desert, rivers in the badlands. Isaiah 43:19 (msg)

Open up before God, keep nothing back; he’ll do whatever needs to be done: He’ll validate your life in the clear light of day and stamp you with approval at high noon. Psalm 37:5 (msg)

The Spirit you received does not make you slaves, so that you live in fear again; rather, the Spirit you received brought about your adoption to sonship. And by him we cry, “Abba,Father.”  The Spirit himself testifies with our spirit that we are God’s children. Now if we are children, then we are heirs—heirs of God and co-heirs with Christ, if indeed we share in his sufferings in order that we may also share in his glory. Romans 8:15-17 (NIV)

 

I don’t matter…and that’s ok.

If you’ve been around my family and me at all recently, you will have heard me say “I don’t matter anymore!”, with a smile across my face. That fact of the matter is, I have raised a daddy’s girl. Our daughter is completely obsessed with her daddy the minute he walks through the door. She says his name all day long. She waits for him. She kisses him, and if given a choice, she always chooses him over me. And I LOVE it.

Our culture constantly diminishes the role of a father. Men on TV are cast as idiots who know nothing about their family. Fathers are made to feel like they are incapable of raising their own children. And other dads simply choose to not even be apart of the picture.

I am thankful everyday that my husband doesn’t fall into any of these categories. Instead, I have been given a husband who bathes our daughter each night and brushes her teeth. He often makes her plate for dinner so I don’t have to. We take turns getting up and caring for her if she wakes up through the night (although since I am not as fun, my sleepy dust works better than his :)). And I never have to worry about my husband’s capability when it comes to taking care of our daughter, which in turn gives me a few minutes to wander through the cosmetics aisle while “grabbing a few things”. Sure, it feels good when my daughter kisses me or says my name, but when she runs into her daddy’s arms, I am overcome with gratitude.

Right now, I am the maid, the cook, the nurse, the planner, the accountant, the disciplinarian, and glorified secretary. When J comes home, he is the fun. He is what we’ve been waiting for all day. I love my role as a stay-at-home-mom. I love that I get to spend every moment caring for my family, because that is the job God has given me. But for J to come home to a daughter who is smiling, laughing, and squealing just because he walked through the door, makes him feel like a hero. He spends everyday working hard to provide for our family. He comes home with a tired brain and tired feet. And he often has other projects around the house that need to be done. The man deserves a celebration of his presence everyday, just as a way of letting him know how appreciated he is.

At the end of the day, I want our little girls to be daddy’s girls. J is my hero. His good morning kiss is the highlight of my day. And I long for quitting time at work more than he does. It is my job to model for our girls how amazing their daddy is. It is my job to encourage him as he continues to learn how to be a daddy. It is my job to thank him for all the ways he is the world’s best daddy. Because I do these things, most of the time…I’m by no means the perfect wife, our girls will view their daddy with the same admiration.

For all you mommies raising Daddy’s girls, don’t be jealous. You are needed and you are loved, not just by your children, but by your man too. Encourage him in all the ways he is getting it right, and see just how much your words will boost his confidence, not only as a husband and father, but as a man. While the rest of the world seeks to tear men down and make them feel small, build your man up. Let him stand tall, knowing his wife and children acknowledge and appreciate all the ways he puts his family before everything else.

 

 

 

Round 2.

I am now a week away from being 8 months pregnant with our second daughter, and it amazes me how fast this pregnancy has gone by. In many ways, I keep wanting time to slow down. I have this amazing 16 month old who is only going to be my only baby for 8 more weeks. Little Star is active and strong-willed. Her daddy likens her to a “caged tornado”. In many ways she keeps me so very busy, but there are moments with her that have filled my heart with so much love it overflows. I don’t know if every little girl is this way at this age, but Little Star is obsessed with babies. She loves her baby dolls more than anything else. She points out all the babies when we are out and about. And she even cries when a baby leaves the room because she loves them so. As I have watched her become such a nurturer, my heart is put to rest, knowing the Lord is preparing her for her new baby sister, as much as He is preparing me.

I won’t lie, in many ways, I am terrified of being the mama of two girls. I am terrified I won’t have enough love to give the three people who need me most. I am afraid of being tired and frustrated and taking it out on my two innocent girls. I am afraid of losing myself in motherhood that I forget to be the wife God has called me to be, first and foremost. I am afraid I won’t get back in shape like I want to. I am afraid of trying to raise two young ladies who love Jesus and respect themselves in a culture that pushes everything ungodly at them.

Yet, when these thoughts invade my mind, my Savior comes in and brings me hope. He brings me hope through watching our daughter fall in love with every baby she sees, because I know she will love her baby sister. He brings me hope when my husband says he loves me and tells me how thankful he is for all that I do. He brings me hope through His word.

“But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me.” (2 Corinthians 12:9)

Every day, I am reminded that this beautiful, fulfilling job of stay-at-home-wife-&-mom, is almost impossible without the strength of my Savior. When I feel as though I have no more to give, He gives me the strength to keep going. When the duties of my job cloud the joy found in staying home, He fills my heart with His joy, and reminds me to count my blessings. I am so thankful for His Grace. I am so thankful for His Love. I am thankful for His calling.

As we begin to round the last curve of this pregnancy, I hope to hold my sweet girl closer and tighter during these last days of “just us”. I hope to remind my husband how thankful I am for his leadership, service to our family, and for the amazing ways he loves his girls. I hope to grow in my relationship with my Savior, trusting His plan everyday, and seeking His strength in order to fulfill the calling He has placed on my life.

A Season of Waiting

Writing is a true therapy for me. I am not always gushing to write something, but when I am inspired I must take the time to sit down and pen what is in my heart. Often times I succeed at writing when I feel led, but learning to write as a discipline has been something I have been working on. When 2014 started I had the goal of writing one post a week. I love reading weekly blog posts and I love to write so I figured I should give it a try. Yet, here we are six weeks into the new year and I have already failed at one of my resolutions. This week will change that. My goal for the weekly blog posts is to virtually bring you into my living room as my friend. I want you to feel as though we are sitting there drinking a glass of sweet tea as a pie bakes in the oven, sharing our joys and sorrows.

This past October, I visited my mom’s hometown, with my mom, sister, aunt, and granny. While in Henderson we visited one of my Granny’s friends, Lillian. As I walked into her home I was greeted with the smell of a fresh-baked pumpkin pie, along with a sweet southern embrace. While sharing our pie we talked about our various lives, where we had gone and what we had done. Of the seven women present, five of them had experienced tremendous loss in some way. Some had lost children, others their husbands, and yet they continued to be women of unconditional joy and faith. As I sat there observing their moments of tears and laughter, I couldn’t help but to wish for the same.

Our culture is so caught up in running to the next thing, having the perfect life, and filling our time with more stuff that we forget to stop, share a piece of pie and catch up on life. We’d rather text than talk on the phone. We’d rather look at instagram than experience life with others. We’d rather catch up on the latest news on Facebook than invite people into our home. We have no problem sharing the happy things on social media, but we will not dare look vulnerable or share our sorrows with others. I don’t want to be like that any longer. I want to be open with others, letting them see the good, the bad, and the ugly. I want others to feel at home in my presence, not like they must have it all together. At the end of it all I want to be a portrait of God’s grace, sharing with others that when I have fallen, my Savior has picked me up. Therefore, even if life becomes routine, I will seek to use this blog as a means of worshipping God in the midst of monotony. In times of joy I will share His wonderful blessings, and in times of sorrow, I will share of His life-altering lessons and the peace only He can give.

After our cruise last June, Jordan and I felt called to begin trying to start a family. So far, eight months later, it still hasn’t happened. I know for some eight months seems like nothing compared to eight years, but I have begun to have an understanding of the monthly heartbreak that comes after a negative test comes back. I want nothing more than to be a mother. I breathe, eat, sleep all things motherhood right now. It is all I think about! I have given up cokes and sugar (for the most part), brought yoga into my daily routine, and disciplined myself to wake up with Jordan so I can get things done around the house before he gets home. Jordan and I have specifically gotten our finances in order so that we may be ready when a baby does come. I daydream of how I will tell Jordan, our families, and the world when the time comes, and I pin all things baby when I have a few minutes to spare. Yet despite all of my  “preparation”, God has not answered my prayer.

After getting a few negative tests, I began to get jealous of all the happy moms and pregnant ladies around me. I began to rush God’s timing for my own desires. I would only pray really hard when the time would come for a test, and when it came back negative I would cry out of disappointment. Up until January this was a cyclical series of emotions. While at church one day I felt so convicted for my attitude. I felt ashamed for not trusting God’s timing and for attempting to rush His perfect plan. I was so convicted I walked up to the altar of the church, and just as Hannah poured her heart before the Lord (1 Samuel 1:10-16), I surrendered my desire for motherhood to Him.

This act of surrendering my greatest desire to the Lord has by no means been easy. My sinful nature pushes me to rush this time. I want to blow past all of this waiting instead of savoring each moment as a gift. Despite my impatience, God has me in this season of waiting for a reason. I must completely and fully trust Him. 1 Samuel 1:20, according to the ESV version, says that Hannah conceived a child in due time. The Bible does not tell us when exactly this happened, but it did happen in God’s timing. When God was finished preparing Hannah for the miracle of a child He answered her prayer. I believe the same will happen for me. I often feel as though I am ready now, but ultimately God says I am not. I need to trust Him and His timing more, and I need to desire Him more than I desire a child. Above all, I do not want to waste this time any longer.

So, for this season of waiting, I will love Jesus more. I will cherish the time I have with Jordan as just the two of us. I will work hard to be healthy and fit for when a blessing comes my way. I will snuggle with my pups while they are still my fur-babies. I will spend Saturdays photographing life on our little farm. I will be motivated to persevere through my job and school. I will dream up new ways to improve our home. I will plant gardens, travel, sing, read, and write. I will spend this time of in-between, experiencing the very best of life. When I feel as though I am beginning to slip, I will remember God’s Word- “But those who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings like eagles; they shall run and not be weary; they shall walk and not faint.” Isaiah 40:31

I know this has been a lot to read and take in, and I thank you for taking the time to read a part of my life. If you are in the same boat as me, know that you are not alone at any point of this process. I hope that you were encouraged in some way and I hope that we all will truly learn the depth of Proverbs 3:5-6.

Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge Him, and He will direct your path. Proverbs 3:5-6

Here are a few pictures from our little farm:

A beautiful cardinal in one of our front trees.

Our lab, Breck, patiently waiting for Jordan’s command to come.

Jordan and the dogs playing in the background.

My favorite flowers, and favorite weekly pick-me-up from my thoughtful husband.

Little birds at our feeder.

My bird watching partner, Brisket.

Female cardinal at the feeder.

All it took was 5 minutes

On Sunday night, it only took a mere 5 minutes for the nation and the world to see an aspect of America many do not want to talk about… or stand up against. First off, let me say that I too was disgusted with what took place on Sunday night. I truly believe that Miley was used to get the nation talking. Everyone has seen her push the limitations more and more, so of course it would make sense for a network, such as MTV, to push Miley off the edge. However, I think that even beyond Miley and MTV, there are a lot of other responsible parties in that matter. I believe these responsible parties point towards some serious flaws in our society, and therefore need to be talked about.

1. It would make sense to label Miley as the first to blame because she is in charge of her actions. She has been the one to seek to push so far away from her Hannah Montana life to where she is barely recognizable. Ultimately, all of her stunts have shown one common theme: she will do anything and all it takes to receive validation from others. She wants to be the topic of conversation. Through all of her antics, I believe we see one of the purest forms of true self-esteem issues. Therefore, it is important for her stunt to be talked about to girls struggling with identity issues.

At some point in every girl’s life there comes a time in which a girl begins to doubt herself. She sees the “prettier girls” getting attention, and therefore seeks to find ways for herself to attain such attention. Often times this attention comes from improving one’s sex appeal. It has become the norm in America to pursue attention through exploiting one’s assets, and yet women all across the country are enraged at such exploitation. Where is the consistency? Why must Hollywood determine what a woman is worth? Why must intelligence and poise be replaced by fake boobs and makeup? And why, as a country, are we obsessed with women like Miley, Kim, and Lindsay, instead of seeking to emulate Princess Kate? It is imperative for young ladies to understand, that no amount of attention, makeup, or clothing can define a woman’s worth. It is imperative for young men to understand that the girls they see as objects typically only see the boys as objects as well. Instead of praising a woman’s sex appeal, we need to raise up a generation that praises a woman for her humble elegance. We need more women who can talk about real issues instead of living in a fantasy “real housewife world”. We need more women who are willing to stand up for injustices before they seek to be another pretty face. Most of all, we need more women who will stop at nothing to bring change, in order that God may receive the glory.

2. The second responsible party is Robin Thicke and his wife. If marriage were a true sacred covenant to these people, perhaps Sunday night (or the outrageous music video) would not occur. It has been reported that Robin Thicke’s wife had no issue with what happened Sunday. She has seen it enough times for it not to bother her. I can undoubtedly tell you that if I saw another woman all over my husband in such a manner, that out of my commitment to our marriage and the covenant I made with the Lord, I would NEVER have excused such behavior! However, the Thicke’s are like many American couples, their own desires mean more to them individually than their marriage. Such is the case with many others. Whether it be someone else at the office, different dreams, the desire for more money, divorce is an everyday occurrence in our culture. Society does not place value on the vows that were spoken. Society places value on the individual and their dreams. Marriage is not about making each other happy all the time, it isn’t about fulfilling each other’s sexual needs, and it even has nothing to do with the American Dream. All of those aspects are by-products of a marriage that is a sacred union under the lordship of Jesus Christ. Marriage is a holy and sacred union that is to be protected. Had Robin Thicke truly loved and respected his wife, Miley would not have been able to come within five feet of him.

3. The third responsible party is Miley’s parents. Instead of admonishing their daughter, the Cyrus’ excused her actions. Instead of making her face the consequences of her actions, they have sought to be her support and her friend. I have seen this on a small-scale within my own community time and time again, and I will say the firmly: Parents, it is NOT your job to be your child’s best friend and biggest support group! It is your job to raise your child with standards, to reprimand them when they do wrong, and praise them for their right choices. It is your job to provide a shelter in which their minds are able to absorb the things that matter, rather than absorb the lies of this world. It is your job to encourage them to make their dreams come true, not to push them into the spotlight for your own gain. It is your job to be the person they desire to be. If you are their friend, how can you be their role model? How can you instill discipline when all you are to them is the “cool parent that buys them stuff’? Trust me, as a strong-willed child myself, there have been many a day when I hated the discipline in which I was raised. I fought against expectations of my parents for many years, only to come back and seek to be just like my mom. It is my parents’ influence in my life that has pushed me to value the morals that were instilled in me, to fight for a holy union with my husband, and to stand up for the Lord and His Word. It was my parents who created such an environment for me, not my friends.

4. The next responsible party is Hollywood and the media. Just as I mentioned above, the goal of this stunt was to get the nation talking. It was become a cover story for news outlets and just another aspect of Hollywood. The more it is talked about on the national level, the more clips that are shown, the more attention the stunt gets. Eventually the media will continue to cover the story to the point where no one cares anymore… This stunt will too become a distant memory, just like the lip-lock that occurred between Madonna, Britney, and Christina a few years ago. It is likely the VMAs will have better ratings next year, because everyone will want to see what crazy stunt will be pulled again. Next year, some other artist will be used as a tool to get the nation talking once again. People that are seeking fame and fortune are a dime a dozen, so eventually someone will step up to the plate and deliver another shocking performance. The quality of the actors or music in Hollywood essentially means nothing when the stories of celebrities cause more of a buzz than their “talent”.

5. The last responsible party is us. We are the ones who encourage for such things to occur on TV. We support the shows that directly contradict God’s Word, all because they are dramatic or funny. We are the ones who buy the song because it’s catchy, without any concern for the words. We are the ones who use our influence of money to push Hollywood to continue to produce such trash. We have in essence laid down the foundation for such things to happen because we have chosen to be silent out of fear, instead of courageous against all odds. I pray that instead of casting this issue off to the wayside in a few weeks, that we will take the time to evaluate it and seek change. I earnestly pray for the salvation of all those involved in this issue. I pray that people will see the errors of their ways and come to Jesus. Most of all, I pray that I will shield my home from the things of this world, that I will grow in my knowledge of my Savior over the headlines, and that I will be used to bring honor and glory to the Lord above all else.