Every so often the evils of the world come slithering up the front steps of my house and I am reminded that I am at war, in a vicious fight for my children's innocence.
When the world fights with words that pierce, I heal with whispers of how proud I am of who they are.
When they are drilled at school how to hide from the "bad guys" by covering the light censer with paper and pulling their feet up on the toilet and hugging their knees, I arm them with the shield of Christ and teach them that they are protected no matter where they are.
At every step in the outside world they are targeted by commercials to consume. So we show them the value in an act of kindness.
When on tv they are exposed to violence, I hug them close and show them how our hands were made for holding not hitting.
I do not hide to kiss my husband for they need to see how a real man treats his wife.
We teach them to be proud of who they come from so that when called names because of their skin, they know that the truth runs through their veins. Prejudice and skin color change with the seasons, blood is always red.
I teach them to take good care of their body so when they are berated all they hear is a lie.
I speak the truth so they learn to trust.
I show compassion so they are compassionate.
I hold my head high in the face of change so that they are resilient.
I allow them to see me cry so that they learn there can be power in tears.
Every battle will not be won, but that does not show weakness. It shows that this is an on-going war.
My children are already armed with the the greatest weapon I can give them right now, they have my time.