My middle child’s name is Faith. I thought I gave her this moniker because it affirmed God’s grace and our double fisted faith for her safety during an arduous pregnancy.
But God has a sense of humor.
I’ve now realized naming your kid Faith is like praying for patience. You never pray for patience because then God will give you opportunities –terrible, brain numbing opportunities to develop your patience.
Holy Cow! I am so dumb!
I inserted some sort of weird blessing/prophecy on my kid –and now I am getting the chance to get faith like Abraham as my daughter hits puberty.
Like this weekend for example when I headed into the land of Canaan –I mean the Mission Viejo Mall.
We ventured over to Macy’s after church to pick up an Easter dress for Faith. It had to be Macy’s because I have a gift certificate from my parent’s for Christmas and I’m strapped enough to tap into all available resources. I know, I know…what I sacrifice for my kids.
Faith picked out a few dresses and went to try them on. Tim, Kyle, Kolby and I waited outside the dressing room to view the frocks on display as Faith came prancing out.
First dress –It was ok, nothing to write home about.
Second dress –Youza! It was a beautiful color –a sky blue number, silky, and way too grown up. It was seductively subtle, a little too short with tiny spaghetti straps and just a smidgen too low in the chest.
My daughter is already beautiful but in this dress she was dangerous.
And here is where I screwed up.
Faith-“Mom, what do you think?”
Me- “It’s really pretty.” (Rewind and take this back you idiot)
Tim- “It’s too sexy. No way. She is almost eleven not twenty. Not an option.”
Me- “You’re right. Sorry sweetie.”
Faith- “Waaahhhhhhh! Then she ran into the dressing room and sobbed for ten minutes. “You said it was pretty! It’s all Tim’s fault.”
When in doubt, always blame the step-dad.
Me- “No Faith, it’s my decision. It’s a lovely dress but it’s a very sexy dress and not the best one for you.”
Repeat tears and howling wails for another twenty minutes.
I storm out of dressing room with my eye twitching.
During this time I go and purchase a pair of jeans with my son. When I come back Faith is moping and half-heartedly looking for another dress with Tim.
The boys go home and Faith and I continue to look. Finally, about three hours into the shopping nightmare she tries on a gorgeous and modest dress we both like.
Despite it being more money than I want to spend, I buy the darn thing and escape home.
Next time I will bring:
- Imitrix for the migraine headache I will leave with.
- Anxiety medicine
- A Flask
- A team of prayer warriors who have previously fasted and have experience with pre-teen demons.
(I’m kidding about the first two)
Upon arriving home, Faith runs up to her room, puts on her new dress and models it for the family.
She twirls in front of us like a lovely princess.
Faith- “Isn’t it the most beautiful dress you have ever seen?”
I am staggering, on the edge of tears, frustrated and overwhelmed, “Sure sweetie,” I choke out.
Can someone tell me how to defend my daughter’s honor without going freaking CRAZY?
What I want to say is, “Don’t make the same mistakes I did. Have the confidence to rock your inner beauty. Don’t buy into the world’s lies that sexy defines your worth.”
But it never comes out the way I want and it gets all stuck in my throat. I don’t sound like cool mom I sound like lame mom. And even though I think we have these awesome mother-daughter chats –nothing sticks. She ignores me and forges her own way. I wonder where she got this stubborn trait?
So my friends…this is how I develop faith. I am tested beyond all sanity.
Want to know the really scary part? Kolby’s middle name is Grace.
I can’t wait to develop this muscle.