don't ask. don't tell.

When it comes to issues of the heart - I do not agree with this philosophy. When it comes to issues of the heart - the intimate moments of "the asking and the telling" with those whom you love - and with those who love you- these intimate moments are sacred and sanctioned by God for healing.

"Therefore confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so that you may be healed." James 5:16

My daughter sat on my husband's lap, and I at his side holding her tiny hand of 8 years growth. Her face was pale. She knew she was in trouble. We knew she could resort to lying in order to hide her wrong behavior. We wanted to give her the chance to realize the goodness and freedom that comes from confessing. Instead of telling her what we knew, we waited for her to tell us what she had been hiding. The moments seemed to drag on as we urged her to tell us what had happened, and tears welled up in her eyes, but no words had fallen from her lips. We waited. She was silent. Finally, to ease her discomfort in this place of scrutiny and seeming judgement - I told her, "My child - look at my eyes." She looked at me. "There is not one thing that you can tell me that you have done - that I myself have not done. Before you made wrong choices, I have already made them. You are not alone."

What do you think she did? She told us everything. The relief that she was not the only one who was guilty of this act - which of course she already knew was wrong - was all it took to spill her heart. The festering wound had been cut open, the infection released, and healing truth could be applied.

I know I will have to assure my child again and again that she does not stand alone in her guilt. I stand with her. How do I explain all I hope for her to realize...I wonder? Perhaps she might relate to clothes - clothes that she thinks are pretty - clothes that are ugly. What a picture of our guilt caused by sin - those burdensome rags we wore before we knew God; thinking that we were dressing up for life when we chose our own way. Choice after empty choice we covered ourselves with smelly rags of death. But then Jesus found us. And how grateful I am that I can tell her that dressed in our guilt, Jesus - the Perfect One -arrayed in robes of white and gold - wrapped us up tight in His embrace. His love and perfection made us realize our rags - our own shame before the King of Kings, but he did not embarass us, or scorn us for our appearance. Jesus instead took all our ugly guilt away, and gave to us His beautiful robe of innocence to wear as our very own. Oh my daughter! will you understand?

How I want both of my children to know that they are not alone in their need for a Savior. We ask. We tell. We are healed - together - by His love.

She's nine in nine days. Soon - all too soon - we will have a conversation about what it means to be a woman. I will have the privilege of explaining to my daughter the wonder of God's creation of man and woman, and God's design for sex. My heart aches at the thought of this moment. Not because this is an uncomfortable conversation; not because my baby is growing up and my letting go of her innocence is difficult; not because I have no idea where to begin. This conversation is hard because I remember all to well when my mother had this conversation with me. I heard her. I understood. I not only heard her explain God's design for sex, but I heard other people in my life - Sunday school teachers, and youth pastors explain how God's design for sex was for marriage - to protect us - to bless us. I heard it, but I chose my own design - despite these lessons of truth. What I wouldn't give to have another chance - to be sitting where she is sitting - and hear it again for the first time - and be able to know what I know now - and choose God's way. His way is perfect - and mine was such a sorrow-filled mess. What will my child choose for herself? How can I help her hold to God?

She will begin to draw many lines of understanding in her mind - of her father and I - and in time will wonder if I waited to have sex until I married her dad. "Don't ask. Don't tell." No. I don't believe that is where I will hide in shame. I learned from the woman at the well. I learned from Rahab. I learned from the sinful woman who washed Jesus' feet with her tears and dried them with her hair. I will tell her my story; indeed all of it, and their stories as well. She could look to me and compare herself - and consider that, in her mind, I have turned out just fine. After all, her dad and I are very happily married. I realize she may think like this, thanks to years in college ministry and this very response from young women who have heard me tell my story of regret. I'm prepared for her to consider this with me - even if she doesn't express her thoughts. I will trust that God will help me show my little wonderer the scars that remain on my heart from my poor choices - yes healed - but very visible when I take off the veil I hold over my face before the world. My heart has a memory. My mind has a memory - would to God that I had kept myself pure so that those memories were only of my husband and I together. But they aren't. There are ugly, black images that no roses or wine can sweep over in pink hues and lace. These memories brought to my marriage many issues that required the patience of my godly husband and the healing of our God. As only God can work all things together for good - the challenges that would have destroyed us without Him - made us stronger. Do I wish we would have avoided them? Absolutely. I know that challenges like that do not have to happen to knit two hearts together. God's design for sex is to protect us from such heartache in marriage. So, I will, with God's wisdom, explain to my daughter most carefully and wisely the severity of these wounds my promiscuity caused and, yes, reveal these scars to her. And oh my heart! I will pray with her - that she will choose God's way for her life in all things, so that her days and her nights are blessed - that her marriage bed is pure and holy - and wrapped in the sweetest scarlet ribbon of one man - one woman - one God for as long as the two shall live.

Luke 7:44-47 "...Do you see this woman? I came into your house. You did not give me any water for my feet, but she wet my feet with her tears and wiped them with her hair. You did not give me a kiss, but this woman, from the time I entered, has not stopped kissing my feet. You did not put oil on my head, but she has poured perfume on my feet. Therefore, I tell you, her many sins have been forgiven - as her great love has shown. But whoever has been forgiven little loves little."

She came to him boldly. She did not have to say a word. He already knew, and he spoke on her behalf for the sake of others who needed to realize His love and forgiveness. Don't ask? Don't tell? Absolutely not. "Then Jesus said to her, 'Your sins are forgiven.'...Your faith has saved you. Go in peace" Luke 7:48, 50

Selah.