Will Smith v. Chris Rock: who wins?

I never watch the Oscars–like, never–because I have kids and because I don’t watch many grownup movies. But I decided after the kids went to bed to turn the tube on to see if any Encanto songs might be performed live (I’m partial to Dos Oruguitas and any and all cumbia). That’s when Chris Rock walked on the stage.

Chris Rock has never impressed me. I’ll be the first to say he is a vile person with lots of ugly stuff pouring out of his mouth on the regular. He has a funny voice and an amazingly dazzling smile for a 57-year-old man (how can he be 57??), but that doesn’t hide the fact that his entire career has been about making fun of people.
That’s what most comedians do–they pick a weak spot and shoot arrows at it to make other snarky people laugh. When you land a great zinger, there are plenty of pats on the back. We all feel good about ourselves. Great, actually. Someone was brave enough and clever enough to say the things we all wished we could say.

And when you’ve been doing it for forty years, it surely comes pretty easy to the tongue. Why filter your thoughts before they come out as words when you get paid so much to do it?
Personally, I’ve always felt like the Chris Rocks of the world need a good sucker punch to the face, because they’re jerks.

Then Will Smith walked up and did just that.
The collective world of couch potatoes and Hollywood elites held their breath.
Did that really just happen?
How should I feel about it?
Team Rock or Team Fresh Prince?

Things that immediately went wrong: Will Smith was not escorted out by security. Chris Rock stood there, stunned, fumbling to get on with his speech. The Academy did not cut to a commercial break. Will Smith sat back down, his eyes burning like lasers. Carry on, folks.

The internet went wild. There was talk about physical assault. There were interjections about mental health and what it means to stand up for someone you love. First the first-grade admonition: use your words! Then the first-grade teacher-scolding: still, it’s never okay to hurt with our hands.

Because Will Smith wasn’t asked to leave (the typical first-grade consequence for hurting someone with your hands), he was primed and ready to accept his Oscar win for best Actor.

This is where it turned unbelievable. The Academy gave Smith a microphone and the spotlight for an unlimited, unscreened, unedited amount of time to speak to millions of people. He was on the stand, tears streaming, pouring his heart out to us, the jury. Will Smith, a beacon of light, proclaimed people do strange things for love. Love, I’m assuming, for his wife–the woman he committed his life to with the side agreement that their marriage was open to extramarital relationships.
He wants his life to be about love, man. And Denzel Washington, bless his heart, had just given him a post-punch pep talk: “At your highest moment, be careful. That’s when the devil comes for you.”

Had the devil never approached Will Smith until now?
I was stunned that Smith had a captive audience. (I also didn’t turn off the TV until the whole spiel was over.) In a few minutes, the excellent actor that is Will Smith put on the best performance of his life, clearing his name, Serena and Venus Williams nodding their heads in sympathy. Was Rock backstage, icing his cheek and filing battery charges?

This is what I wonder:
How can we defend or argue what is right and wrong when we’ve already agreed to the soft rules of culture? 

Chris Rock can talk as much smack as he wants because that’s his specialty. Will Smith can absolve his sins by delivering a stellar soliloquy. We will all watch, eyes glued to the screen, and laugh and cry because that is the part the audience plays. Then we will take to Twitter and voice our opinions, because it is our duty.

Is life merely about sparking conversations that lead to mutual understanding if, in fact, there is only one Truth?

Why do the winners accept their award, thanking the people who’ve helped them climb to the top, and then make speeches on the atrocities of war, anti-suicide work and LGBTQ rights? If there are so many victims in the greater world, why are we all dressed to the nines and spending billions of dollars making movies instead of helping? What good is awareness when you’re headed to an after-party to get wasted? Why not slap Chris Rock in the face and bring awareness to his trashy way of insulting everyone and everything that crosses his path? Who is to say that’s wrong?

Who gets to cross the lines and never face consequences?

Perhaps Jada should have been the first to slap Will on a world stage, since he apparently thinks so little of marriage vows to be faithful. Then Chris Rock could’ve slapped Will in her defense. Then they all could’ve slapped the comedian hosts who hurt everyone else’s feelings.
It’s all so petty and blown up.


I wonder, friend: can you walk away from this incident and chalk it up to worldliness–the darkness of our culture–or do you feel compelled to get involved? Do your feathers ruffle easily, or are you already weary of it all?
Honestly, it’s made me tired just typing what I’ve written. I don’t really even care about the Oscars, I was just there to see the orchestra and choirs, and now I’ve got to sort out how I feel about Will Smith. Nothing is more exhausting than trying to decipher media and who-says-what-about-who, thinking you’ve boarded a train to higher thinking, when it’s really just a crazy hamster wheel of nonsense.
Actually it is all forsaken.

Chris Rock? Forsaken.

Will Smith? Forsaken.

Immature grownups who slander and hit each other? Forsaken.

A cumulative culture of Hollywood stars pretending to portray stories in made-up movies that we pay to watch to evoke emotion in ourselves? Forsaken.

The Academy who hires jerks like Chris Rock to spew slander and still awards Will Smith best actor, post-assault? Forsaken.

Let’s not waste time judging who was more right or more wrong, Team Chris Rock or Team Fresh Prince.

Your life is more exciting than the Oscars or a Twitter feed, or Instagram account, do you know that? It’s more interesting and real than anything you watch on TV on a Sunday night or scroll on your phone during lunch break. You have living and breathing humans in your life. You have the potential to grow relationships that blossom and mature into shady, comfortable mainstays. You don’t need a stage or microphone to defend your people or lessen the suffering of others. Will Smith could only hope for the kind of love in a faithful marriage of 35 years. Chris Rock can only pray for the self-control required to not blab every little nasty remark on his mind.
Don’t fall into Forsaken territory.
It’s possible to be at peace with both man
and God.

I’m pretty sure it’s an even better feeling than holding an Oscar.

love, power, and a sound mind.

I like to do a little update once in a while for my own records and thinking purposes–which I also am told often helps other people think things out, too. 

As a family we’ve had some widely varied experiences in the realm of academics. It’s no secret I’ve been frustrated and elated–super highs and lows–with the homeschool versus public schooling life.
Some people don’t ever think twice about how and why they’ve chosen one path or the other. It’s as natural to them as a duck to water. In public school I’ve met people who’ve never heard of homeschool or had it come near their radar. In the homeschool world I know people who think public is the path to H-E-double hockey sticks.

I think about the two options all the time, the way the thoughts of a pregnant woman are single minded for nine months straight about her baby to be born.

There is a Venn diagram in my brain and I sort the good and bad into categories. In the middle is a “good kid” scenario. I also have a best-case, model-child checklist running. I don’t believe I overthink the parenting gig necessarily–I just strive for the apex and am ever-aware of my parenting peers. The homeschool crowd has made me self-conscious. The public school folk make me feel weirdly overzealous. I don’t have a target on my back, but I do feel pressure to turn out outstanding kids, for integrity and posterity. I wince when my kids are rude. I’m prideful when they excel. My posture is the shrugged shoulders emoji–not sincere enough to homeschool (she must not care enough) and inexplicable to public schoolers who’ve never raised questions (why the heck does she care so much?).

Here is a small example:
I tense up in this world where we show up to a basketball tournament and nearly every parent has already handed their elementary child a cell phone to play video games so as not to cause a disturbance.
Is this a public school phenomenon? Maybe–but surely it isn’t limited to public school. This is just where my homeschooling bias would like to place blame, a sign of the failures of “those people”.

After being back on the public school scene, I am chagrined to come face-to-face with educators who don’t blink at wasting hours of learning time watching movies or playing on devices, all under the banner of “asynchronous” or “differentiated” learning.
I only ever let my kids have screen/device time as a reward. Usually their time is limited to a half hour. I frequently warn them of the dangers of being addicted to devices, and yet this is one huge channel administered by public educators, courtesy of a federal subsidy, intent on attaining a 1-1 student-to-device ratio.

On the other hand, I feel the need to defend this approach to non-public-schoolers, because my love for teachers and administration is deep and abiding, behavioral problems exist, and public educators are overloaded with the expectation that they will be the sole academic investor in a kid’s life. In short, they are stressed grownups doing more than their fair share of kid-raising, and they are reamed for every shortcoming, every flaw. Public school, if it is failing, is doing so because parents failed first.

If I weren’t on the middle school sports scene, if my kids were instead invested in 4H projects and running the family business, if I were homeschooling–would I be avoiding this disaster? Would my kids have superman self-control to keep their eyes on their books instead of wandering over the shoulder of their classmate next to them who is on their second hour of playing ninja-something?

This is the question that plagues me because I’ve avoided it altogether when I stayed at home. It is an upside down problem compared to our prior year homeschooling, where any situation seemed better than huddling in our house, waiting for a greenlight to be able to talk to people in person again. By re-entering a life where we have to deal with actual people, we actually have to deal with people.

I can almost hear the scornful comments, because I’ve heard them before. They project disaster, downfall. Public schools get lumped with all sorts of political evils and conspiracy. All it takes one good family to stay hunkered in their house are the words critical race theory.

And I get so tired of it. I get tired of me feeling like it’s something I ought to fret over. We are not a people of fear, but a people of love, power, and a sound mind (2 Tim. 1:7).

In the car this morning we were listening to Paul’s letter to the Corinthians, where he tells the church they should get rid of the yeast of “malice and wickedness” and instead be leavened with “sincerity and truth.” He exhorts them to not eat or even associate with people in their midst (the church) who are doing unspeakable things. Then he says something unusual:
“I wrote to you in my letter not to associate with sexually immoral people–not at all meaning the people of this world who are immoral, or the greedy and swindlers, or idolaters. In that case you would have to leave this world. But I am writing to you that you must not associate with anyone who claims to be a brother or sister but is (immoral).
What business is it of mine to judge those outside the church? Are you not to judge those inside? God will judge those outside.”
1 Cor.5:9-13

“In that case, you would have to leave this world.”

How ironic of Paul to solve the cell phone addiction-at-the-basketball-tournament problem for me the morning after. We can’t stand around fretting and huddled, pointing judgy fingers at people on the outside, hoping aimlessly for evil to go away.
When Jesus prayed for us before He went to the cross, He said,
“My prayer is not that you take them out of the world but that you protect them from the evil one. They are not of the world, even as I am not of it. Sanctify them by the truth; your word is truth. As you sent me into the world, I have sent them into the world.”
John 17:15-18

What a relief–I’m right where I need to be, even in the age of smart phones. I’ve been put right here, right now, for a specific purpose. And under His protection and sanctification, I can be in this world yet not live like the world is in me.

Last month I decided maybe the best way to encourage and affect improvement in public school might be by becoming a teacher myself. Instead of talking so much about what is wrong, I should put love, power, and sound mind to the test. 

I’ve been studying to take the exams. I am being made aware of best practices, what is most ethical, most effective, most appropriate. It’s been a great thing to study, because I’m made aware of the specific rules regarding education, and I’m becoming a person who can hold others accountable. It helps me sort out professionalism, laziness, standards and behaviors–a new Venn diagram in my mind. When a circumstance falls into the overlapping circles of “Jesus-follower” and “public school”–it’s within my wheelhouse and I can approach it accordingly.

I’ve developed my teacher voice now, the one where, at a basketball game, I tell the gaming kid to either put away the phone and watch the game or go away. It isn’t based on my feelings, social insecurity or judgment, but best practices. I can feel my skin getting thicker. I know what is right–and I can speak firmly and with love. (Joe likes to whisper-sing Jo Dee Messina in my ear in these situations to remind me “my give a damn’s busted”–he really has a way of embodying sincerity and truth, lol.)

Kids are just kids. They aren’t yet the sum of who they’re becoming. There will be a million forward steps and a million backward steps before they become a mature adult. Love is patient–Lord, help me be patient.
I have told my older kids they can always get out of public school if the need arises. They don’t have to learn in a group of kids who don’t want to be there, or if things are unbearable. Lord, help me have a discerning mind and good judgment.
Thank goodness, we’ve met people who are the real deal at school–real believers who really love Jesus. It’s worth a lot of trouble to get to run into them. We’re learning and we’re looking forward to the summer. Lord, help me be confident as I walk the path you’ve put in front of me.



Life at a vile boarding school is…a good preparation for the Christian life, that it teaches one to live by hope. Even, in a sense, by faith; for at the beginning of each term, home and holidays are so far off that it is as hard to realize them as it is to realize heaven.
C.S. Lewis, Surprised by Joy

Many of us are patterning our lives after the Christian community, and the Christian community is going downhill. The standard of Christian experience is not the Christian community; it’s Jesus Christ. If you have to break with the accepted practices of the Christian community in order to conform yourself to Him, do it.
Howard G. Hendricks, Heaven Help the Home

what are you reading? (part two: audiobooks)

Do you know how they say the best way to recognize counterfeit money is by studying the real thing? This is true in so many areas of life–if you diligently eat good food, the bad stuff will make you feel queasy. If you make art with quality paints, brushes, pencils, then you’ll know just how terrible Walmart-brand is. A decent mattress or coffee will turn you into a person who never wants to leave home and risk waking up somewhere else.

The same idea rings true for books: if you train kids to read and approve writing that is a level superior–intellectually, creatively, literally–then they will begin to recognize and eventually disdain inferior material.

That said, the culture in which we live is inundated with folks who don’t like chewing and swallowing. Mediocrity has become our common language. It’s just easier to go with the flow because that’s what everyone else is doing, and in doing so we often compromise our best intentions. We devolve into groupthink because we are social and want to please our compadres–or at least not stick out too much.
What does this have to do with reading? Well, how often do you see someone reading out of a book while they wait instead of scrolling a feed on their phone? We are a prolific bunch of consumers, to our shame–the eye never has enough seeing, the ear never enough hearing (Ecc. 1:8). The lower the hurdle, the more comfortable we get, the less shame we acknowledge in devouring a constant stream of entertainment.
It takes a bit of training to level up.

Part of our evolving culture includes current social influencers and “thinkers” among us who lower the bar even more with outspoken, agenda-driven chatter that deflects intellectual conversation. You run into these characters often. They love to point out the slightest provocation, regularly missing the forest for the trees.  A quick Amazon search for many of the outstanding books listed below will have reviews that say things like:

“It is full of offensive and false stereotypes (none of which I remembered from when I read this book as a child). Constantly correcting all the inaccuracies in the book and trying to explain them to my kids was exhausting and I think it went over their heads. Things were different when we were kids but now that we are better educated about indigenous peoples, there is no excuse for this kind of garbage literature.”  (“ShopGirl”, Indian in the Cupboard)

Stalwarts of political correctness typically miss the point entirely. Every book ever written will show a bias or unique tone, as all books are written by human beings. But to assume that because we live forty to a hundred years in their future that we are better than them–that we are profoundly superior in taking a minute to write a two-sentence Amazon review pointing out their misdirects–well, it’s fair to say each generation has its own plank-in-the-eye problem. I suggest parents let little old stereotypes fly over their heads. A life spent observing human nature will correct such idiosyncrasies.

Racist, sexist, misogynistic, xenophobic–once in these trenches we are already miles away from the point, which is engaging lifelong learners through quality reading. Don’t get caught up in the peanut gallery opinions of folks who disseminate ego-boosting, superficial nonsense. We are looking at books written by authors who aren’t looking over their shoulder constantly for the woke police, but folks who, like us, had a unique perspective and tone. We aren’t seeking to desensitize, and at the same time we refuse to slap on labels.

Frederick Douglass, having learned to read as a slave, then escaping to freedom to write, lecture, and live as a prominent abolitionist, said, “knowledge is the pathway from slavery to freedom.” This is an awesome concept to keep in mind: we are applying knowledge liberally and regularly in order for our children to develop higher thinking. Such thinking will ensure they are slaves to no one. 

Ok, too much talking on my part!
This is my approach to hooking kids on decent reads. It is more proactive than waiting for a teacher to teach them to read, and it will cost some money and/or effort to locate good books–and talk them out of spending your cash on less stellar but shinier book-order books. You do these things because you recognize that the long-term investment of molding a child returns an exponential factor in every aspect.
You will have a reader and thinker for life, someone who can pass on the joy of learning and growing. A future parent who will sagely read to their own kids without fear of having to edit out the “offensive” bits.

I’ve written a little about a basic approach to helping babies learn to love reading time. Reading and being read to on mom and dad’s lap should go on for years, but there is also a fun new thing to introduce early on: audiobooks. For the post-board book beginners, audiobooks are magic. Around this time, some of their peers are already hooked to the iPad ball and chain–don’t fall for it! By introducing audio with tangible books, you’ll be teaching them to sit and work for the next page–the first step in reading–and they’ll love it.
Believe it or not, phonics and reading comes after familiarity, so listening to stories over and over and over is imperative.
The most crucial part is this: listen with them while they’re little. Don’t hand them a device and disappear. If you have a copy of the book, give it to them, but be ready for them to beg you to help turn the pages if they aren’t adept at it yet. Play the audio in the car on the speakers and laugh together. Be a parent who stays. 

For early and pre-readers, a fun thing to do is buy Sandra Boynton’s sing-along plus CD books (or simply download the music that pairs with it).
Philadelphia Chickens, Rhinoceros Tap, Frog Trouble, Blue Moo, Dog Train. These were the best 4-to-6-year-old birthday presents my kids ever got. They scratched the heck out of those CDs. Hours of fun, I say! Kids can hold the book and look at pictures while listening to hilarious music? No better entertainment.

Next, if you can wean them from the delights of Boynton–not that you should, and it might take years anyway–is to introduce longer audio stories that are perfect for errand-running carseat time. You might download some short books from your local library’s app. Be prepared that the frustrating thing is how short some books are! Think about it–Brown Bear, Brown Bear takes two minutes to read. You’ll be fumbling around trying to download one story after the next. If you can’t afford to spend cash or credits on shorties and the library is forever waiting for a loan to be returned by someone else, invest in a handful of audio book collections that will be family favorites for years.

Our absolute favorites for the 2+ year old crowd:
Frog and Toad Audio Collection (Arnold Lobel, read by author–a calm, slow read with pleasant music)

3 Volumes of Seuss: The Bippolo Seed and Other Lost Stories, The Cat in the Hat and Other Dr. Seuss Favorites, and Green Eggs and Ham and Other Servings of Dr. Seuss (read by a fantastic variety of actors, these collections really break up a long road trip)

Nate the Great Collected Stories (not pictured. Marjorie Weinman, read by John Lavelle–don’t sleep on these books or this narrator! Perfect for kids beginning chapter books)

Mercy Watson series by Kate DiCamillo –I still wake my children up each morning by calling them, “my darlings, my dears, my porcine wonders.” We love the jaunty intro music and the narrator’s voice. Easy to follow and read with book in hand.

The Trumpet of the Swan–my favorite book of all time and Charlotte’s Web, both read by none other than E.B. White himself in a voice so soothing and unique you won’t want it to end.

The Ramona Quimby audio collection (by Beverly Cleary, narrated by Stockard Channing)–outstanding, my absolute favorite books to quote to the kids and favorite book to listen to, hours on end. Buy this on Audible, don’t even wait for the library loan time. It’s excellent, laugh-out loud, and twenty hours of entertainment. Channing is a revelation and audiobooks are her calling.
Other titles by Beverly Cleary you won’t want to miss: Ribsy (included in the Henry Huggins collection, read by Neil Patrick Harris) and Socks and Muggie Maggie (the Beverly Cleary audio collection).

Mr. Popper’s Penguins, My Side of the Mountain, James and the Giant PeachAll terrific car-riding company for the ears!

*My ten year old put together these graphics so they are not in a particular order*

For the next age group, Hank the Cowdog is another series you’ve no doubt encountered–a good one for 6-10 year olds but can eventually be grating on parents as it’s stream-of-conscience dialogue by dogs (ha!). The podcast with Matthew McConaughey is also a stellar, free way to get hooked into the series.
Tales from the Odyssey by Mary Pope Osborne was one of our first forays into audiobooks and is surprisingly wonderful (her Magic Treehouse series doesn’t hold a candle to Odyssey excitement).

Ben Yokoyama and the Cookie of Endless Waiting–these Cookie Chronicles books are wonderful read-alongs, as they have awesome illustrations and filled with hilarious metaphors. My six to ten-year-olds especially loved it.

The One and Only Ivan and The One and Only Bob–my kids read these books and recommended them, so we listened to them. Pretty cute.

Edge of Extinction-a people-and-dinosaurs blood-pumping adventure. We loved the whole series.

The Penderwicks is a great series I was surprised my kids enjoyed as much as they did, because it seems to be very sisterly and warm (whereas my boys love a hearty battle scene). The intensity level is very low, which is exactly what I’m looking for in a car ride.

Hatchet and The Sign of the Beaver are both great reads we’ve listened to while swinging in hammocks in the backyard. Spellbinding.

Echo, Pam Munoz Ryan–three stories woven together and narrated by the delicious voice of Mark Bramhill. Definitely get the audio for this–the music enhances the story by a thousand percent.

We read aloud The Indian in the Cupboard, The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane, The Captain’s Dogand Farmer Boy, and Little House on the Prairie, but they are also all available as audiobooks on Audible.

American Tall Tales–this was another lucky library find and a great way to introduce some of those old stories like Paul Bunyon and Davy Crockett.

James Herriot Favorite Dog Stories–a favorite bedtime read aloud at our house where LOTS of questions come up. But it’s delightful, as are all of Herriot’s stories.

Where the Sidewalk Ends and A Light in the Attic-available on CDs. We have these books and read poems outloud to one another, but a CD would be a lot of fun.

Mary Poppinsmixed feelings on Mary Poppins, honestly. I have one kid who absolutely loves her, though, so it is worth the addition.

The Wonderful Wizard of Oz-all of Frank L. Baum’s Oz books are pure magic to me…to think that all of it came from his imagination!

The Westing Game-we read this as a family–a little spooky for the under-10 crowd, but a fun riddle/game book. A very interesting study on stereotypes, too!

Guys Read: True Stories series–there are some bizarre and crazy stories in this collection, but we all loved them. Ever wondered what folks did when they had a toothache back in prehistoric times?!

Chronicles of Narniaof course you should have a hard copy of this series in your house! I have found all the books, over and over at thrift stores, which is where you should look first. Some of my kids love listening to this on audio; some prefer to be read aloud to; some only want to read to self. I think it’s because the world of Narnia feels so real–it’s personal preference whether you want to share the experience or not. As with Ramona Quimby and The Action Bible, this series has a permanent place on my phone.

The Hobbit, Bridge to Terabithia, A Wrinkle in Timeall outstanding in my opinion, but my kids have differing opinions as far as read-aloud quality. Some things are better in print. Great car ride listening with a young teen (Jubal would argue on Bridge to Terabithia–you might cry while driving!)

Not pictured (but should have been): The Phantom Tollboothnot a personal favorite, but kids who love wordplay will think it hilarious.

Here’s the random assortment of books I couldn’t leave out, though they fit no particular category:

I Survived series–some people love to hate these. They have a very particular storyline–a troubled kid followed by disaster where they must learn a lesson. All historical fiction. I’m not saying they’re great or terrible–very medium. Fun to listen to while baking on a snow day with kids gathered around, and they’re usually available on a library app.

The Hero’s Guide series–similar to How to Train Your Dragon except maybe funnier! Hits the ten-year-old sweet spot.

Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle–wacky and goofy, a step up from Amelia Bedelia.

Mr. Lemoncello’s Library series–sort of a modern Willy Wonka-character with games and puzzles to solve. My kids think these books are brilliant.

Ms. Bixby’s Last Day-narrated by the perspective of three middle school aged boys, this is goofy and gut-wrenching. Another good one to listen to on a long car ride with a 12-year old boy.

Tom Sawyer–I do think Mark Twain will go the way of Dr. Seuss, as in scrubbed from popular history for the sake of not ruffling feathers. Reading Twain is all the more important, and for kids it is easier to listen to than pick up on dialect through audio.

The Tale of Despereaux and Wayside School stories–we have read aloud but they also are available on Audible. Sometimes I love to read Kate DiCamillo outloud and sometimes I think her wordy beyond belief (LOL). Wayside School is by the same author who wrote Holes, Louis Sachar. He is incredibly weird and witty and my boys love it.

Paddle to the Sea and (not pictured) Pagoo are by Holling C. Holling, a brilliant teacher, scientist, and artist whose books are spellbinding. Read aloud or listen (I haven’t found a Pagoo recording) and buy the hard copy to follow along.

Last of all, my kids have spent hours with The Action Bible and accompanying audio. It is incredible what they know and retain simply by having listened to the stories again and again.
I have a 64-CD set of the NIV audio Bible–we listen to a chapter every day on the way to school. It’s a nice way to start the day and kids listen quietly and ask me all sorts of questions later.

I hope this list is a helpful start for folks wanting to do some audiobook scaffolding with their kids! It sure has taken me a long time to compile. Building a library of loved and shared books is such a wonderful thing–encourage one another!

what are you reading? (part one)

A man may take to drink because he feels himself to be a failure, and then fail all the more completely because he drinks. It is rather the same thing that is happening to the English language. It becomes ugly and inaccurate because our thoughts are foolish, but the slovenliness of our language makes it easier for us to have foolish thoughts.
George Orwell, “Politics and the English Language”

Yesterday was Read Across America day, formerly known as Dr. Seuss’s birthday. I like to mark it on my calendar along with Banned Books week, because, as you already know, I am into books in a big way.
Park your library book bags, because I’m about to dive into the current obsession with the offensiveness of inoffensive material and the cultural, moral backlash it is creating for our kids. Then I’ll make a list of some of the best books you could ever get your hands on. Ready?

We are currently reading aloud The Indian in the Cupboard. I only have about a year or two before my youngest child no longer wants me to read aloud. I know this because as soon as the boys figured they could read silently faster than I could outloud, they ditched me. All my best British accents (which they inform me are much too Australian–I still take it as a huge compliment) are mere inches from death if I no longer have any audience for my genius.

I skip the dialogue that begins with exclamations of “Oh hell!” by the cowboy, but I don’t skimp on Boone’s Texas drawl or the choppy, “me-talk-Indian” English-speak by Little Bear himself. Dialogue and dialect are imperative to storytelling, but a kindergartner repeating the words “oh, hell!” isn’t endearing or responsible.
A reader might feel a touch off-put by the stereotyping of characters–more so the Indian–but the fact of the matter is: kids don’t care. Kids in tune with storyline and overarching themes put themselves in the characters’ shoes and wrestle the question, is it morally okay to make a plastic toy come to life and treat him any way except humanely?

This question itself is more profound than the grownups’ question, whose primary stumbling block to the story is “me-talk-Indian” as politically incorrect.

There ought to be a non-librarian, layperson-curated list of the best read-aloud and kids’ classics because there is so much trash infiltrating the library these days. If you love your kids, you might be awfully careful in taking them to the library.
Publishers and book-buyers are a greedy lot for placing the demand of poor-quality literature above the need for well-written stories.
I’m looking at you, Dav Pilkey and Scholastic. If it isn’t intended primarily as quick-reading entertainment (notice how even the majority of nonfiction books displayed in your Scholastic book order appeal to horror, gore, or the disgusting and morose), it won’t capture the young audience, and as such, won’t make a dime. Under the banner of “make reading fun!” for non-readers (who tend to simply be story-undernourished or abandoned pre-readers) an entire market of sub-par literature has flourished.

Treading deeper, there’s a noticeable cultural push to lean heavy into normalizing gender/sex topics, mental instability (suicide, depression), political and racial tension… All pretty humanistic, biased, and hopeless stuff. In a world where the majority doesn’t want a God (if He exists) to show up and ruin all their fun, they sure publish a bunch of garbage to keep the depravity rolling.
Such books are not only inappropriate for kids, but almost unavoidable at your local library, where they love to put such nonsense face-out for kids to pick up.

This seemingly harmless handing-candy-to-babies approach to introducing soul-crushing ideology deserves a closer look. In her book, Awake, Not Woke, Noelle Mering traces this new-ish cultural phenomenon of wokeness to Karl Marx and his diabolical lust to “usurp God”. Marx postured that “ruination [could] be brought to the West through the breakdown of all sexual restraint and the abolition of the family” (Mering, 2021).

It truly is a Marxist, fascist ideology that places rebellion in the laps of infants to sow hate in their heart with the goal of producing a faux oppression that results in revolution.
Think about it, if you can train a child early on to value entertainment and crave the outrageous over relationships and moral uprightness– if you can publish material that regards authority as wicked, parents as imposters, the nuclear mother and father-based family as one mediocre option among a thousand, gender as fluid and feeling-based–you will succeed in the child viewing the safest people and places as enemy number one. 

If you think I’m exaggerating, stroll into the children’s section at your local library and take a gander at the “new books” section. Good parenting these days means placing the proper emphasis on the proper things at the proper time. Wisdom builds incrementally and it is not snatched out of the air, a product of chaos and disillusionment. A mom and dad have to lay a foundation and begin building before ideologies are introduced. What I’m saying, parent-to-parent, it this: be aware of the timing of your kids’ exposure to the world. Stack bricks from the bottom up and make sure things are solid. Don’t be hasty in explaining sex to little kids or bother emphasizing political correctness–it is beyond their grasp, and some day you’ll have to cross that bridge. For now, build trust and security and relationship. Proper emphasis, proper things, proper time–books, those wordy tomes, can help a whole lot! Improperly used, they can hurt a whole lot.

If you want children to love reading for the sake of reading, it is well worth investing in their interests and finding great stories–the earlier, the better. Over time they will begin to determine on their own what makes for wholesome, enjoyable books. They’ll be able to spot the bad ones and avoid them. With the help of a loving grownup, they’ll feel safe in sharing the good, the bad, the ugly. You will have a forever book-buddy who, once in a while, cracks open a novel and within a few pages tosses it aside and says, “Yeah, this one’s not very nice, Mom. Better return it to the library ASAP.”

Here is the general idea: begin reading little fun board books with just a few words. Do it again and again until they drag books to you and until you are dead tired of reading the words I think I can I think I can I think I can I think I can(really, Watty Piper? Wasn’t repeating it three times enough?). Make your lap the coziest, most welcoming place in the world. Then introduce them to the magic of audiobooks and readalongs. Read aloud to them chapter books–your voice in their ears. They’ll begin to think there is nothing you cannot do, once they hear you break out your mesmerizing Irish accent. You’ll have a book lover for life, I promise.

Best of all, you’ll be molding a child who has a shot at understanding and critically evaluating the world around her. She will learn to love good–and God–and see cultural imposters for what they truly are–a waste of time.

I have to break this post into two parts–stay tuned for my best booklist for kids!

you’re the reason I’ve come.

Years ago when I had a small boy learning cello, I offhandedly asked a person in charge at our church if Jubal might play a song or two in front of the congregation sometime. More than anything, he was losing his confidence in performing. I wanted him to have the opportunity to regain it, and I perceived the kindest, most encouraging audience would be at church. Where else would people come up afterward, hug him, tell him how proud they were? 

Before we had moved to Denver, we had taken the kids to nursing homes where we sang and played music on our own. The residents seemed to enjoy it and the staff even thanked us for bringing some lighthearted fun into their day. They genuinely looked forward to us returning each week. 

This time, the response I got from the fellow in charge at church was, “Sure, let me know when he has learned Amazing Grace.”

I am sure he didn’t intend to offend me by brushing me off–he simply misunderstood. He thought the usual church flow might be interrupted, and there ought to be order. He didn’t want the service to be compromised, didn’t want to shortcut prayer time or sermonizing. Didn’t want a child to be the center of attention.

 You see, the guy in charge looked at a child as somebody who could be worked into the situation, given enough practice. If the moment was opportune, if the child was prepared, if the tune was acceptable…If.
Primarily, the man in charge misjudged children.

But Jesus–more of the minimum-wage nursing home worker and oft-overlooked elderly folk-type– looked at children and said, “Get over here and climb up in my lap. You’re the reason I’ve come!” 

That’s how important kids, and child-likeness in general, are important to the kingdom.
“The kingdom of God belongs to such as these”–that’s how God places their value. They own the place.

My little girl asks me all the time to tell her more about Heaven. I tell her how wonderful it is, how every good thing is there, and no bad things. “Well,” she concludes, “dying is happy, then, if Heaven is full of only good things.” I swallow tears, because she’s right, but also because she believes it so determinedly. She won’t stand for a Heaven without a swimming pool and all the fresh strawberries and cream a person could eat.
I’ve lived a life of hardening into a person who guards my hope. “To live is Christ”–this I can lean into, and something I need to teach my kids by my attitude and actions.

“To die is gain”–this is something a child with childlike faith must remind me.

We thought about this as we were already backing away from church. We decided we should instead focus on discipling our own kids as a home church because the mainstream church was a poor substitute. The mainstream church these days tends to serve the grown-ups, the churchified–and keep them happy, a world within a world. They often pursue ventures that have very little to do with following Jesus–bigger, better buildings, higher entertainment value, engaging in bait-and-switch tactics. Feel-good, electric-charged music and speaking. Conferences. Less responsibility. More coffee.
Kids don’t make the list.

We had done the humble task of nursery care and lower-level Sunday school for years–thinking it was a noble job. But most parents always seemed more than happy to dump their kids in our care, turn on their heels and leave to go to “big” church. We were childcare, plain and simple. Sometimes accused of giving fruit gummies and juice to kids who “didn’t need the sugar”. Save for a tiny minority, they didn’t give a sniff about what we taught their children–out of sight, out of mind. And to be honest, we weren’t given a whole lot to teach them.

This alone has taken years for us to reckon as possibly un-Christlike. We were told it was our “gifting” and we should probably do it forever, seeing that the “Body” is made up of hands and feet. Shut up and do your part. And bring better snacks.
But as our kids grew into bigger kids who diligently read their own Action Bible front to back, we saw how wrong the mainstream church was in limiting children to soggy spiritual koolaid and crackers in the basement. They needed more to chew, and we couldn’t rely on the church to spackle the holes in their theology, seeing it, in itself, was full of holes.

Little do they love their little neighbors by feeding them a steady diet of truth. Little do they look at sinners–children–and, forgetting self, love them into disciples of Jesus. Little do they say, “Get over here and climb up in my lap!” or “You’re the reason I’ve come!” or “The kingdom belongs to such as these.”

We can’t afford to wait for the right church to do the right thing.

If, indeed, our struggle is not against “flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places,”–we have a lot of strength training to do.

My own kids have a front row seat to the action–they go to school everyday and witness the messed-up, foul ways of the world. (I’ll admit I despair sometimes and talk to Jesus about it regularly.) Then they come home where we’re reading through the book of Judges–”there was no king in Israel and everyone did what was right in their own eyes” (Judges 21:25)–and we are learning just how dependent we have got to be on God to fight our battles for us.

We read the stories of how cowardly the Israelites were in fighting their enemies so that God had to raise up a woman (Deborah) to lead them to victory. How Gideon took his three hundred warriors, clay jars, torches, and horns–no weapons!–and God used him to defeat the Midianites.
The spiritual application is not lost on us. In speaking of fairy tales Chesterton wrote,

[they] do not give the child the idea of the evil or the ugly; that is in the child already, because it is in the world already. Fairy tales do not give the child his first idea of bogey. What fairy tales give the child is his first clear idea of the possible defeat of bogey. The baby has known the dragon intimately ever since he had an imagination. What the fairy tale provides for him is a St. George to kill the dragon.
(Tremendous Trifles)

And these are no fairy tales we’re reading on Sunday morning. Kids understand story, and God supplied all of Jewish history for a tender mind to digest and to point, ultimately, to a Savior who did, does, and will continue to fight our battles for us. The Word of God, when planted in the soil of a child, is living and active and grows directly around one’s heart. It helps them to grow in wisdom and maturity, just like Jesus.
This is the best thing we have ever done, if I’m being honest–to put down the things I once thought were noble and important, or what looked popular or seemed grown-up and dignified–for the kids’ sake.

We have a lot to teach each other.

Ironically, our kids are excellent musicians now–pretty advantageous in a church-at-home situation. They get center stage. My five year old twirls and belts out hymns. My seven year old beats the drums–the ones they never let him touch at church. The ten year old hits every high soprano note the rest of us can’t. My former-cellist, twelve, leads us with guitar.

Every time I hear their music, it sounds like worship.

 

Praise Him with the harp and lyre! Praise him with timbrel and dancing, praise him with the strings and pipe, praise him with the clash of cymbals!
Psalm 150

 

The blind and lame came to him at the temple, and he healed them. But when the chief priests and the teachers of the law saw the wonderful things he did and the children shouting in the temple courts, “Hosanna to the Son of David,” they were indignant.
“Do you hear what these children are saying?” they asked him.
“Yes,” replied Jesus, “have you never read, ‘From the lips of children and infants you, Lord, have called forth your praise’?”
Matthew 21:14-16

being a ‘no’ person.

Probably a year or two ago I heard about a movie that came out with Jennifer Garner in it. It was called something like the “Day of Yes”. I could probably google it right now and find out, but that would ruin my ruminating fun. Basically, the mom decides she will say ‘yes’ to whatever request her children make, and then they will have the best day ever. I’m not sure how the movie turns out, but I’d say everyone gets what they want.

I have earned, in my life, the reputation as a friend who says “no”. I know this for a fact because my friend, Megan, called me recently and pondered aloud if she should do a certain thing, take on a certain responsibility, and I told her that ‘no’ was always an option. And Megan replied, “I think that’s why I called you! I knew you would tell me ‘no’!”

I love saying ‘no’ so I can be available to a better ‘yes’.

That is very cliche, because it definitely is a cliche.

So what. It’s a good cliche!
Annie Dillard and Brenda Ueland and Heather Sellers (Page After Page) are all writers who’ve found immense value in tuning out the noise of yeses to make time for better pursuits–of course that is writing, in their case. This is specific to my own interest, and I’ve found it true–I write better when I’m not constantly consuming or running around. I say ‘no’ to loud because a quiet lifestyle helps the wheels turn.

But I’ve also observed life trickle away from people who are too busy to watch their kids grow, learn to talk, walk, eat, and bicker (and eventually get along). They’ve said ‘yes’ to a nice house and hefty car payment and childcare and subsequently said ‘no’ to playdoh on the table, a messy house, mud and music. Or they’ve said ‘yes’ to a million kid activities and teams and trips and they wonder why their kids are grouchy and attached to a cell phone. (I have a theory that cell phones have become a child’s ‘no’ to the parent who has said ‘no’ to them; “no, I won’t give you my attention because you don’t give me yours.”)

I don’t think I’ve got any superior insight here, I just know that I’m always better off when I say no. Or when a no is issued in my direction–I will take those, too. Like when a door is slammed shut in my universe and God is telling me to drop it–He did that to me a year and a half ago when I got chronic hives and couldn’t get off the couch or do anything but cry in misery. That ended whatever ‘yes’ I had forced on my family (homeschool by fist of iron).

And it ended the constant worry of what should I do? that runs circles in a mom’s head.

Here’s your heaven-sent answer: don’t do (fill-in-the-blank). 

I was talking with my mom about how interesting it is that God likes to issue us ‘no’s in the form of health crises. We have both gotten loud, reverberating ‘no’s that feels a lot like suffering but eventually leads us to greener pastures.

And still, the spirit of the world seems to high-five the gal who can work full-time, raise children, and run a marathon while on chemotherapy, raising money for her cancer foundation. (This was announced over the loudspeaker at a race I attended and made every other mom who’d ever said ‘no’ feel like a real loser. Or they felt inspired, which might be worse.)

This same spirit is alive and well in the spirit of Christians who are determined to support a cause or usher in God’s kingdom or whatever divine goal tickles their fancy. It’s a ‘yes’ that looks for windows when doors slam shut. It’s planning a million-dollar church building and praying with great faith that “God will provide the funds.” What if God never asked you to unlatch that window, but you still leaned a ladder against the wall and smashed a rock through it anyway? What is God supposed to do then so you might understand His will?

See, saying ‘no’ gives a person permission to humbly recognize their own humanity and limits. A better ‘yes’ lives inside our limited, unreliable self, believe it or not.

Why else has He “chosen the weak in this world to shame the strong”? Why else are we described as “jars of clay, to show that the surpassing power belongs to God and not to us”?

These are the people the Lord wants to use–not the window smashing, don’t-ask-permission-now-but-forgiveness-later muscle men, but the whispering ‘no’ folks who have been yearning for the right ‘yes’. 

I always felt like the clergy, pastors and ministers–made this very difficult on the youth–they’d tell us to pray to know the will of God.

I’m twenty years past being a youth, and I can say for a fact that until I opened a Bible and actually tried to read it, it did me no good to ask God to reveal His will for me.
But twenty years in and now knowing the emphasis God places on a godly marriage–I can see a ‘no’ from God when Joe and I aren’t on the same page, and we can’t go another step until we’ve resolved it.

And I know how He sets people in families, and my responsibility right now is to raise my kids (a hearty ‘yes’ from Him) and to “store up heavenly treasures, not treasures on earth,” so my social status (found in my job, appearance, car, or house) has no business factoring into the equation.

I’m reminded to not “walk in the path of the wicked, nor stand in the way of sinners, nor sit in the seat of scoffers” and so I give a ‘no’ to posting junk or reading it on social media.
This gives me plenty of ‘yes’ time for better pursuits. Still, there are instances where “do not lean on your own understanding” felt tricky and stifling. 

I will never forget the time a Bible study writer and leader approached me after church one day when I was rushing out with two crying babies. “Pearl,” she said, “we really want you to lead a Wednesday group. I know you’re busy, but this is important. It needs to be a priority in your life. I could feel tears welling up, and I am sure she thought she was really striking a chord with me, slathering on the conviction. But I was teary because I hadn’t slept the night before. My cheeks were wet because my babies required so much of me–here was an adult telling me I had more to offer–and I was, deep down, a ‘no’ person being asked to bust out windows. I was conflicted, confused, angry, upset.

I’ve wondered since how much I lost out on by not leading the Bible study group. But I don’t think I would’ve done a very good job at it. My husband would’ve suffered through my whining at not being able to manage it all. My kids would’ve gotten the short end of the stick. And I wouldn’t have learned all those lessons I know now that come from constant service born of love for my family. Diapers, dishes–menial, unending stuff that teaches a mom exactly the lengths God is willing to go to care for his children. I think God confirmed His ‘no’ for me in that very situation–I happened to find out I was pregnant again within months. How gently He leads those who have young ones.

Here is the real secret in knowing God’s will–he isn’t going to make you crawl out a window when he closes a door. He will open a floodgate and you’ll get whooshed out on a wave–all those little no’s rushing out in one big YES.

We like to think God puts us in hard situations and we need to overcome them to prove something. But He often makes the right thing completely obvious–the most basic, simple, down-to-earth, zero-entry option.

Blessed is the person who does not walk in the way of the wicked…who does not stand in the way of sinners…who does not sit in the seat of scoffers….
Psalm 1 has always been about the ‘no’ people, and there is proof of it in my life. I’m like a tree, planted, yielding fruit in season and my leaf doesn’t wither.
It’s given way to a wave of yeses.
Yes, I have a family who loves me and whom I love.
Yes, I have time to serve others.
Yes, I can be generous with my money.
Yes, my life is filled with spirit-fruit–joy, peace, patience, kindness, gentleness, self-control.
Yes, I’m writing about it.
Yes, I’m thankful.