Pass Me a Bubble, Please.

When my little six year-old got home from school yesterday, I hugged him and asked him how his day was. He said it was good and I started rummaging through his backpack to pull out his folder with the day's work. As I was rifling through the pile, I pulled out a white sheet of paper folded like a card, and on the front of it, it had a nice little sentiment in red crayon from one of the girls in his class. It's not uncommon for Cody to receive "love" notes from this little girl (and for a while I thought it was kinda cute how Cody would roll his eyes and sigh in disgust at the mere mention of a note from this girl). However, this particular note was a bit "racy" even for a kindergartener and so I decided it was time to address it with his teacher.

I am amazed at how early these things start with children. It's troubling, really, to think that even kindergarteners, who should be among some of the most innocent creatures on earth, are having thoughts that they would even dare verbalize! I spoke with my mom this morning, and we both agreed that if I had written a note like that to a little boy when I was a kid, I'd be in pretty big trouble.

I'd like to go on record as saying, though I'm sure this will not come as a shock to any of you, that there are SO MANY days I really despise our culture. This is why Jesus commanded us..."Be in the world, but not of it."

Help me, Lord. Some days I wish we could just live in a bubble.