The first one of these kinds of ribbons that I remember seeing came many years ago... The yellow ribbon in support of our military personnel who were defending our freedom during the Gulf War early days. As a very patriotic person, it did my heart good to see the magnets on cars, the ribbons on trees, and even pins on the shirts of those who were sharing their loved ones. For me.
But let's fast-forward
I have about a 35 minute commute each way to school, which allows for me to pass and/or share the road with a lot of different vehicles. The other day as I was stopped at a light, I happened to look over at the truck in the lane next to me. To this day, I remain fascinated with those brightly colored ribbons, so I found myself eagerly straining my eyes to read the tiny print on the ribbon stuck to the bumper. Imagine my surprise when it registered completely to my sleep-deprived mind what exactly that person was proudly endorsing:
Support Strippers
It actually took me a few seconds to kind of absorb what I read. "Appalled" doesn't even begin to scratch the surface of what hit my heart. That quickly transitioned to a heart-wrenching sadness. I looked at the proud supporter of this "great" cause. The driver was a middle-aged-ish man. Nothing too terribly "creepy" looking about him. Just your average guy. Nothing that screamed, "hide yo' kids, hide yo' wife..."
And then, as my mind is often prone to do, I found my mind automatically calculating this path of thoughts...
I wonder how he would feel if he stumbled upon an establishment that employed young women to take off their clothing (among other things, but I don't even want to start down that road) for the sinful, lustful pleasure of random men-- only to discover that the latest entertainer to take the stage seemed vaguely familiar. This discovery, of course, only after he took a good while to familiarize himself with every other part of her sacred body. EXCEPT for her face. I wonder how he would feel, what he would do, if suddenly, to his horror (and how I pray it would be horror) he discovered that the woman he had just been "drinking in" was in reality: his daughter.
I wonder if every "first" of her precious life would flash before his eyes... first smile, first cry, first steps, first words, first boo-boo, first... first... first...
I wonder if he would be so compelled to dash up to that stage, coat in hand, frantic to cover up the sacred body of this precious soul of his baby girl...
And then I actually started to weep, right there in my car, as my thought path came to a sobering halt:
She is somebody's daughter.
She is somebody's sister.
And friend.
Somebody's (future) wife.
And then I thought, "Where is the ribbon for THAT? What color should I wear to show my support for ending the shame and desperation and devastation that comes from a life that has been caught by the Evil One? Where are the marchers who demand a change?"
Too often, there is a wayward soul that wanders down that dangerous, slippery slope... a life that has been trapped and someone has reeked havoc and ripped away innocence and squandered what might have been left.
One of the most convicting and truth-filled verses in all of Scripture can be found in the book of Proverbs:
"...he did not know it would cost his life."
(Proverbs 7:23)
So my mama-heart has been challenged again. My determination has been re-set. My determination renewed.
Oh, how I pray God that I will be able to train my daughter in such as way that it is a natural way of life for her to know that she is sacred. She is so. much. more. than her body. That her body does not belong to her.
May I train my sons to be the men who will stand up and say, "NO!" May they not allow the Evil One to trickle even a sliver of temptation into their hearts.
May we sound our battle cry. May we storm heaven's gates with the determination to "hold fast that which is true". May we purpose in our hearts that we will never allow for even a shadow of evil to enter while on our watch. And may we watch. And watch and watch. And pray. And pray and pray and pray. And then stand fast. May we never "give place to the devil".
And may we always remember:
she is somebody's daughter.
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