What is Your Family Code?

When I was in elementary school, my father - a former code breaker during the Korean War - would make up alphabet codes for me to break. He taught me how to recognize letter patterns and to look for the most common vowels and consonants first. Later I discovered Dell Crossword Magazine and was thrilled with a dozen such codes to break in each issue.

As a parent I have crafted emergency evacuation plans in case we had to leave the house - where will we meet? I've had to pack earthquake comfort kits when we lived in California and of course we planned on what to do if we ever got separated in a mall or Disney World.

But what about a family code to alert your child to a potential problem while in public? What about a special code word that only the family knows and is used only when you want to alert them? We have a code word we use when we are out in public and find ourselves in an unsafe area or notice something fishy going on and want to walk faster to get to the car (or to another store, etc.). When I pair this word with the time on an invisible clock, noon being straight ahead and 6 being straight behind us, they know where the concern is, to pick up the pace, hold my hand tighter and not to look around. 

It plays out something like this: We are in a mall and to my right I see a group of high school boys starting to fight. I will say "I am going to [CODE] at 3 o'clock." The kids are on alert and we walk just a bit faster to turn the corner and go inside a store. We wait just a bit before going on our way. One time I stupidly took a short cut from an American Girl venue through an alley to the parking lot. Someone was in the ally and it creeped me out so out came the code.

Fortunately, we have never been victims of anything but harrassment while in public. My tall kids would probably tell me I was a bit over the top, but when the hairs on the back of my neck stand up I need to take protective action. Living in a heavily populated urban city right out of college taught me how to hold my face, clasp my bag, walk like I know what I'm doing (even if I'm lost) and scan the street. Growing up in a friendly city where you walked slow, made eye contact and greeted everyone had to go out the window because I had to protect myself first and be nice second.

Another code situation would be an emergency word that you and the kids know and only use in an emergency. We used the same word, only never had to use it for an emergency thank the Lord. This word would be used if someone unexpected had to go and pick up your child should you be unable to. They would have to use the code in order for your child to go with them. If the code wasn't used, no matter who the person was, your child is instructed to stay put and wait for you. We hear too many stories on the news about children going off with someone they thought was okay only to be kidnapped or worse.

This all gets tricky if a bitter divorce is going on. It isn't up to our children to know custody arrangements and monitor them, but because they love both parents and want to please, they can easily be fooled. I'll write about that separately because it is a growing concern.

In order to keep your kids from panicking, be sure to explain your code in a calm manner. This is just a safety precaution. Act confident. Don't employ it unless you feel you need to. Once you are back in the car or other safer place, commend them for following along in a neutral voice. I am big on praying out loud with kids in simple sentences to model prayer for them, so I would always thank God for helping us walk fast and keeping us safe, amen. Change of subject.

Remember if you are anxious, your kids will pick up on that. I'm encouraging awareness and practicality without specifically calling attention to a situation. Instead of saying "Look over there, those people scare mommy." You just give the code that you saw/sensed something and we're going to pick up the pace without gawking.

Let me know if you have any codes and how they work for you!

Don't Say "Sorry", Apologize!

A pet peeve of mine is when a person hurts/offends you and all they say is "sorry". Sorry is just a word. When my kids apologize like that to me I answer with another word like "chair". Then they blink and remember that I like to hear an entire sentence:

"I am sorry, I was wrong, will you please forgive me?"

The first part of the sentence tells me they recognize the pain they have caused. The second part shows that they want to make some form of restituation. If someone just says "sorry", they aren't asking me to participate. I don't know if they mean it, either. But when they admit they were wrong and ask me to free them up, I know they get it.

Sometimes being sorry takes a period of time to fully comprehend. If something has been broken, there must be an offer to repair or replace it as part of the apology. Perhaps your child needs to do lawn work to clean up the yard they tee-peed with their buddies. Maybe they have to work to earn money for a new iPod for their brother when they broke his.

When my son was little and he broke something, he thought tape would fix anything. We had to teach him that tape did not hold everything back together. Sometimes something remained broken.

Teaching our kids to apologize is a tender subject because it forces us to look at our own lives. Have we been correct in our own histories? Are we apologetic enough? Do we even owe one of our kids an apology for our own actions? Ouch.

Once someome comes to me and asks for forgiveness, it is my responsibility to forgive them. If I refuse, that's my problem. They can go on their way knowing they have done what is necessary for the situation and the realationship. They are free.

Over time, I have developed my own definition of forgiveness to mean "letting go my right to have any input any longer and leaving their judgement up to God."  If I don't forgive someone, I am dragging them as a weighty ball and chain affixed to my ankle into my future. Why would I want to be dragged down in my present and future because of something awful someone has done to me in my past??

When I hear popular radio shrink Dr. Laura tell people there are some things that are unforgivable, I completely disagree. I think there are some things so horrible they are hard to forget, but when we don't forgive we keep the awful thing alive and current. The harm needs to be addressed (sometimes by good counseling) and then we need to learn how to live because of and beyond what happened to us.

I knew a woman who could not forgive her adulterous husband, even when he fully apologized and worked for several years to rebuild her trust. Instead, she spoke about him to anyone who would listen and defined her life as the injured, on-going victim. After more years of this, the husband was driven away by her unforgiveness.

I come from a long line of unforgivers. Great-aunts and uncles and grandparents who dwelled on slights to the point of getting family written out of wills. That's why I call fanning the fire. Why do that when you could live a life of peace so far as possible?

There's a verse in the New Testament that gives me cause for pause whenever I am tempted to hang on to something. To the degree that I forgive others, Christ will forgive me. Yipes. I need tons of forgiveness!!! Therefore, I am going to do my best to work on forgiving others.

Notice that I said "work on forgiving". That's because some things are just too big to let go of right away. Just like the tide coming in, sometimes we find out how deeply someone has sinned against us. The sin took a period of time rolling in, so how can we snap our fingers and let it go in an instant? I don't think we can. But we can purpose to forgive in an instant. What's the difference?

Purposing to forgive means that you are in agreement with the need to do so, and with God's help you want to do that. Sometimes it takes time to process the level of offense. Sometimes that takes counseling. But each step of the way as you release the offender to God, you are lightened of the load you were carrying. It took me many months of hard work to release the pain my first husband caused. But now as I look back and speak about it, it is as if I am speaking of someone else's life - I am that free now, and have been for more years than the pain existed.

So it's urgent our children know how to forgive. For their souls. For the health of their lives on earth. And especially because we want our heavenly father to forgive them. And to do that, they need tender hearts that admit and ask for that very thing.

My prayer for every parent and child is that they will be open enough to learn how to forgive and to ask for forgiveness beyond the word "sorry."

Shame on You?

A recent Yahoo article tells us about a Utah mother's supposed ingenious punishment for her 10 year-old's repeated rude comments toward outfits other girls wore at school. Polling her Facebook friends, the mom decided to take the girl to a thrift store and make her wear the clothes she liked the least. She had to wear them to school and to a sports game because the first time it didn't stick. This mother wanted the child to want to apoligize, and thought shaming her daughter by being embarassed herself would do the trick. The girl apparently was finally apologetic to the proper parties and thanked her mother for the punishment.

A freind of mine shared this article with me and asked what I thought about this.

No, no and no way!

Let's take the easy "no" first. By dressing the child in clothing she deemed "ugly" or "embarassing" and sending her off in public is causing another problem. Other people regularly wear things we don't like or wouldn't wear. Some people are perfectly happy with their "look". There is no one socially accepted correct outfit, and by picking things they thought were ridiculous they ran the risk of offending others in the process of trying to teach a lesson.

In my consequence-driven parenting, I tried very hard to never harm others in my child's reality discipline. While other kids could be agreeing with the ugly outfit, others could be off to the side thinking "that's what my mom wears" and be hurt. Once I had to un-ground my daughter and let her go on the ski trip after all because her ski partner would have been punished by being alone that day.

A harder "no" is next. There is a big difference between feeling ashamed and being shamed. Feeling ashamed comes from within and is a response to something that has occured. Being shamed is a message thrust upon us and goes to the very core of a person. That mother not only shamed the girl, she also shamed others when she allowed her to wear clothing they deemed as embarassing. We should feel ashamed for unkind  and unloving things we do and say. We should not feel ashamed for who we are or are trying to be. Shaming someone is cruel and takes them years to reconize and overcome. This does not mean we do not correct our children for what they do.

Still confused about shaming? Here are some examples of damaging comments I have heard parents make directly to their children: "Look at that tummy on you - ha ha!"; "You are such a klutz"; "You just can't be like your sister, can you? She always does it right!"; "Before you were born I used to be happy"; "No wonder that happened, you are just like your awful father!"; "You always do that"; "You never can be grateful, can you?"; "No, that's the wrong way - do it right!", "When are you going to learn?"; "Just look at what you did to my clean floor!" "How would you know? You're just a kid!" "Ha ha you're such a baby for crying about that!!" These are stinging, shameful comments that center around the value of a person. Uttered for a second, they plant themselves deeply within and eat away for much longer than that impatient second it took to spurt out.

The mother had part of it right - she wanted the child to see the err of her ways, own it and sincerely apologize. Polling her friends and coming up with this plan was just the wrong way to go about it, evidenced by the fact that the one time wearing the "ugly" clothes wasn't enough for the little girl to keep her lips zipped. She was a repeat offender.

Now are you asking Well then Mrs. Smartie Pants, how would you have handled this??

Upon receiving the call from the school, we sit down and discuss what happened. We then talk about shame and what that means vs. personal expression and taste. This should take no more than 5 minutes. I would want to find out what she was trying to accomplish by making her remark. Based on her reply, we would talk about a better way to behave that would not harm another person.

I would have a tray of different, unlabled food for her to sample. She tastes the items and gives her opinions. I am sure to include a few that are too tart or hot and some that look awful. (A quick visit to any produce department will provide all you need.) We talk about how different we both are in what we like to eat. Is there one right way to eat? One correct thing we must all eat? Is it okay we like different things? Mocking or condemning others not like us is wrong.

Here comes Jesus: what did He do? How did he treat people? Pick one short parable (in the Gospels) and look at it together. Now we are up to 12 minutes. We've been in discussion and we've illustrated the point that we don't judge others. I would close by asking my child to talk to God out loud with me and ask them what they think they should do next. What would they think the kids at school need to hear from my kid? I'd have my child talk to the teacher and stand in front of the class (or however many overheard the mean comments) and state an apology, ending with the phrase "I was wrong. Will you forgive me?"

(In my role as a kids pastor, after ensuring he understood what he had done,  I have actually had a disruptive boy do this to his class and teacher.)

After my child has made the appropriate apology (perhaps it also includes a personal note to the victim), I ask them how they feel about the entire experience. When they make comments about any glimmer of what they have learned, I praise their observations and tell them I know they will respond differently in the future.

Instead of shame, they have learned not to damage another person and what it has meant to be on the nasty end. They have learned why it was wrong. They have learned how to cope. They have learned to think about another person who may be different than they are. They have new awareness and long-reaching skills. And they aren't going to be on the news because I was so clever.

Kids need to learn to: Realize it. Own it. Pray about it. Ask for forgiveness and forget it. God already did.

Responding to Oklahoma

This has been a horrible week for people in Tornado alley. They now suffer storms in the aftermath of an EF-5 tornado as the rescue operation desperately continues. Those of us who have never had buildings ripped off around us and watched our belongings and memories turn into toothpicks within minutes cannot understand the sudden shock and magnitude of loss. The ones who "only" lost their homes are the fortunate ones. There are many families who must also face the loss of a child or other loved one on top of the horror.

I finally had to turn the channel because it was just too much for me to hear as a compassionate onlooker. I can do that, but the people in Oklahoma can't close their eyes or change the channel to make the images go away. This is their life now and for a very long time to come. Long after the media has moved onto the next story, the clean up and rebuilding will continue. As we have learned from other natural disasters, there will be lots of waiting. Waiting for government assistance, for insurance, for shipments, for news and for reconstruction. Waiting for time to take them farther and farther away from yesterday.

With children hearing about this and not living locally, sometimes we wonder what we can do. Well we can do plenty!

• First and ongoing: Pray! Nothing replaces the power of hearts connected to God. Pull out a map of the area and show your kids. Sit together and specifically ask God to touch and heal lives.
• Find some positive stories in the midst of the disaster (like the elderly lady who found her dog alive in the rubble today) and thank God for hope.
• Visit your local Red Cross and donate blood. After 9/11 a number of our friends did that and we lived in California. 
• Sign up to be a volunteer. No matter where you serve, you are making a difference. Many cities have non-profit food packing facilities or food shelters. Help is always needed.
• When Katrina hit, I organized a diaper and water bottle drive at our church in Minnesota. These donations were merged with other organizations sending trailers south. What is your church doing?
• Check online to see the relief work already in place there and contact venues to see what is needed. In just a couple minutes I learned that Journey Church in Moore is a staging area for disaster relief and the Convoy of Hope that feeds the hungry is hard at work getting supplies to the victims.
• Sit down and color with your kids. Have them draw their feelings and reassure them. Or, have them color pictures and write notes and deliver them to a local hospice or senior citizen home. There is nothing like an art or craft outlet for our emotions.

These are just a few ideas off the top of my head that hopefully nudge our need to do something positive to counteract tragedy. They of course follow parental acknowledgement and reassurance. We don't want to focus on the devastation - we want to see the bigger picture and do what we can to help rebuild and support those in their time of need. Just don't forget to keep praying, when the spotlight is removed the need will still be there.

My Pen

Writing about the evils of a pencil the other day reminded me of my Pen Story. I too got in trouble, only instead of suspension it was the old "put your desk in the corner" shaming.

It was second grade. Wait, first you have to know that I have "lived inside my head" since forever. An avid reader, I was always creating different narratives in my head and doing illustrations when time permitted - like after school.

Back to the story. At the time I was in second grade, and one of the popular shows on TV that I had the good fortune to watch before bedtime involved secret agents. They were the coolest! They worked for good and always stopped evil. Week after week, dressed in suits and raincoats, they solved the crime or saved the world. At least one of them wore a brimmed hat in addition the the belted raincoat.  When they were at their most secretive, they communicated with secret pens. All you had to do to use it was unscrew the middle and place the top under the bottom. Nifty, for sure.

When my parents bought me a non-yellow non-plastic cloth raincoat complete with a belt and a brimmed hat, I was thrilled. Now I would look just like the agents I so admired. Never mind that their coats were beige and mine powder blue, this would work.

I waited with baited breath for a forecast of rain so I could begin a mission of my very own without parental knowledge. About a week later my dream came true: morning showers. Off I went to school in my belted new coat, brimmed hat and hands thrust deeply into my side pockets just like I'd seen on TV. Clutched in my right hand inside the pocket  was my special pen - the one I would be communicating to Command Central with.

This pen is particularly notable because at the time second graders were not allowed pens, only pencils and crayons. Pens were for third grade on up. I had brought my pen from home.

The morning started off okay. I was to report in on classroom activities. Since I was working, I did not hang my coat in the cloakroom with the rest of the class. I needed to be in uniform. My teacher didn't seem to mind that I was sitting at my desk in a raincoat and hat for at least an hour. Then we had recess. From time to time, I would cautiously bring the pen out of my pocket and whisper a short message before reassembling it and placing it back inside. I was a good agent!

After recess I attempted to sit down again without removing my coat and hat. I checked in again with Command Central. "I'm back inside at my desk." I whispered. "We are doing Spelling."

My teacher noticed my cover at last. "Go hang your coat up with all the others and take off that hat."

"I can't, " I replied.

"You can't?!" She snapped.

"I just can't...." I said hopelessly.

Returning to my job, I unscrewed the pen and informed Command Central that I had to take off my coat.  I trudged to the back of the room and hung up my coolest spy outfit ever and returned to my desk. I was so engrossed in my mission, the incredulous stares from the rest of the class did not phase me one bit. This was my mission.

Seated back at my desk, the teacher resumed the spelling lesson and I dutifully resumed reporting in the status of the class.

The teacher noticed me whispering comments into the pen in my hand and indignantly told me to stop being a distraction and to put that pen away. Once again I sincerely informed the teacher, "I can't."

As she marched down the aisle, her spelling book clutched under her arm she repeated her command using both my first and last names. I kept reporting in.

The last message Command Central received from me that day was when I half stood and sputtered into the pen as it was being yanked from my grip, "She - is - taking - my - pen - right - now!!Sorry!!"

I would have to wait until after school to continue my mission...

Now It's a Pencil?

When I was in grade school, at recess boys and girls used to regularly gather around children from a less fortunate family and taunt and chase them. The teachers assigned to the yard duty consistently ignored the chanting group of children circling around four other kids. The humiliated kids used to pretend to go along, but you could see the pain in their faces. Sometimes I would go stand with them so more people would be on their side, but I didn't yet know how to tell others. Since the adults on the playground weren't interested, the unspoken lesson to me was that sometimes kids had to handle things on their own and that some things we just didn't talk about. The entire school just looked the other way.

Fast forward. Today we call this bullying and so much attention is given to the slightest infraction that stories repeatedly hit cable news. Seminars are given and Lifetime movies are made all telling us how bad it is to bully anyone for who they are. The kids in my school were merely poor. Imagine the movie that could have been made if they were of another ethnicity or gay?

Our North American school culture is on red alert lest someone be offended in any manner. We must protect everyone from everything every minute. And if we can't prevent it, we'd better jump all over it once it dares to happen!

A few years ago we heard about the "sexual harassment" when a kindergartener innocently kissed a little girl on the cheek.  Christmas Break is now retitled to cover up that reality. Entire states embrace curriculum embracing any kind of sexuality and any number of mommies and daddies.  Words the founding fathers used and commandments they posted as a matter of course are now deemed offensive and are being systematically removed from public buildings everywhere. Even the American flag - our country's flag - bothers some citizens! Oh, don't forget that it isn't fair to speak only English. (These same people don't blink when they go to France and everyone there speaks...French.)

Now we have a second grade boy playing "Marine and bad guy"  with his buddy at recess. His buddy was the bad guy and he was the Marine, cuz that's what his dad was. He used his pencil to fire "boom" and get the bad guy. The result for this natural child play was a two-day suspension for each boy. Never mind that they stopped immediately when their teacher told them to. Guns make children afraid and other children might be offended. They should never have done this.

Since this made the national news I imagine different legal groups or even the ACLU are getting involved. All over something normal children would do. Initially I wasn't going to give my girl so much as a squirt gun, but when she made them out of sticks and Legos, I realized it was part of play that I couldn't stop.

Kids play "good" and "bad" guy, and I'm thankful they can even think in terms of good and evil with all of the political correctness watering down reality every time I turn around. Gotta go. I'm off to buy a case of pencils and donate it to the local elementary school.

But That's My Child!

                 

A recent Dr. Laura Program caller piqued my interest.

Caller's story: she had loaned a 'close relative' $5K over a few months, then learned and had proof that this 'relative' had gone on to steal $13K of family heirloom jewelry and later pawned them. When Dr. Laura heard the last part, she asked the the caller if she had of course made a police report. When the caller demurred, Dr. Laura went on a rant about weak people not taking a stand. They are exactly what perpetuates such awful behavior. People must go to the police! The caller then scolded the doctor by retorting; "not when it's your own child."

The good doctor's rant escalted from there. I tuned out in amazement that a parent would actually protect their thieving adult kid solely because it was their kid. If it were anyone else, different rules apply.

No one purposely intends to raise a little satan, do they? Do they really want to add another self-seeking or evil person to the planet? Bragging about the latest theft? Immoral or lazy action? Do they want to not know where all their illegitamate grandchildren are?

Why would a relative doing anything immoral or unethical get a pass just because they are related? Well, that's my sister's kid. That's my father, he's just like that. When they get out of prison, they won't have a place to go. 

There's another kind of  'pass': denial. That's when you refuse or are unable to believe that this person you gave birth to is really doing such things. The horror of it is too great to accept and so your mind plays a game and protects you by whispering that this will all go away, or isn't even happening. And if you are a parent you especially console yourself that you didn't have anything to do with this behavioral outcome.

Yes, Dr. Laura and others frequently mention that good people can raise a rotton kid. She'll chirp, "Hey Mom, two out of three ain't bad!" The miserable caller will agree and hang up still dejected about the lost one. At least this type of parent can see reality and isn't denying or accommodating, merely dealing with the deep stab of disappointment in their heart.

What about the parents who contribute to the sick behavior and keep the cycle going and thus  ruin a future generation? The ones so focused on all the drama with the problem kid that they have little time for the kid floating just fine - the good one. (The one who gets ignored at the expense of all the issues the other one brings.) In the end, they drive away the good one because their energy is directed at the alarms going off with the other one. They develop skewed relationships with their favored one and his significant others all the while their other less fingerprinted child has gone on to have their own life and family, bonding with people who will care about them.

When these parents go to bed at night, they sigh and think about the day's delimma and worry about tomorrow and what that adult child will need then. They talk to friends who will listen about their lives in terms of what has happened to them and bear no responsibility for contributing to their on-going rescuing. How could this have happened when they are so well-meaning? If they just fix things well enough, this will all be over and everyone will be happy.

These parents mistakenly place themselves in roles never designed for them to hold. They fail to recognize that each rescue builds on the last until the fully entitled conscience-less adult emerges. The one incapable of gratitude and is now entitled for all the help once given freely. Children of such a person learn this from knee-hight and get an earlier start on this kind of life.

Congratulations. All because these parents wanted to fix, not teach.

I'll Just Go Have Coffee

When my kids were 13 and 3, I learned the power of coffee. Until that particular day, when they got into it together I would try and referee in the moment. Of course that didn't work because of the shrieking. Oh and little brother so ampped he hovered the room. A fifteen-minute situation would take up to two hours to completely be resolved. Sure the kids learned the moral lesson - finally. But I was left in an exhausted emotional puddle.

Who wouldv'e thought that ten years between siblings could be reduced to zero? They could tussle with the best of them. "She hooked at me!!!" "He touched my backpack!!!" And away they went - far past the speed of sound.

So on this particular spring day, they put it in first gear and I knew just where they were going, and it was fast. Rather than begin my usual conductor's warning, I found myself calmly grabbing my purse and the car keys, heading for the door. "I'm going for coffee while you guys figure this out," I said as if this were the most normal thing in the world, and smiled my way out the door.

I knew two important things. One, our eldest had been Red Cross certified for a few years. Two, she really wouldn't mortally harm her brother as much as she liked to hear him scream.

The nearest coffee shop was just down the hill, about 5 minutes away if you didn't hit a red light. I ordered a medium decaf mocha (no whip) and enjoyed it to the last drop while I caught up with the latest local newspaper. After a bit I checked my watch. I'd been gone about a half hour. A whole half hour without the screams and thumps.  My, this was nice.

After another 15 minutes I stood and stretched. Time to go home and get the jump on dinner prep. What a pleasant afternoon this had stayed.

I walked into a calm home with two happy siblings enjoying cartoons.

That's the day I stopped inserting myself into their scenarios. My my, the twins could handle things on their own! I could stay chill. And the times when things started to escalate, I just went and enjoyed another cup of coffee. Peace on earth at our house.

The Morning After They Turn 15

Remember when it was exciting to turn 15 because in most states you can get a driver's permit? Some states even hire you for part-time jobs. Perhaps your parents relaxed some rules or gave you special privileges. It was the beginning of the outward recognition on the exciting road to adulthood.

Hello America 2013. Now your newly minted 15-year-old can legally obtain the "morning after pill" at the local drug store. No prescriptions required. No more hiding them behind the pharmacist's counter. They can now be on display and all a kid has to do is produce an I.D. Since many 15-er's don't drive, guess a school I.D. will do. No parental consent required.

The rights of parents to raise and guide their children continue to be attacked in this country. Imagine what will happen if some child thinks she is pregnant and takes the pill - all without her parents being aware? What are the side effects if there is no pregnancy and the kid is just over-reacting? What are the physical side effects if there is a pregnancy? Does a 15 year-old possess the thought processes necessary to follow the instructions and cautions, much less and read the fine print? What about the long-reaching emotional side effects?

Not only are our children encouraged to explore all sexual body functions at earlier and earlier ages, the media tells them it's all okay, no big deal and that everything can be "taken care of". Isn't that the child-like thinking we parents work years to coach our kids to overcome? We can't really always get our way. Our way may not even be close to "right". And everything isn't always "all better". This is called reality. Why is our culture working so hard against this?

So now conscientious parents face near legal action if they get in the way of the "rights" some entity out there has deemed the path of least resistance for American children. I mean, saying and enforcing a "no" takes far more energy than saying "yes" and looking the other way, doesn't it? Who was sitting around the decision-making table when it was determined that an entire new generation should be able to pop into Target and get these pills? Does that sound like the thinking anyone who cared about the psychological development of a kid would suggest? Or...is it someone who stands to gain financially?

America was founded on values and principles that people risked their lives for. Now we are a beacon of hand-outs and continually lowered standards so that no one is offended. In the process, our historical foundation is not only offended, it is destroyed. When you stand for nothing, you are nothing. What future is that for this country when our kids are so deceived and devalued?

I want parents to have the freedom and courage to train their kids to stand for truth and to value life at any cost. Yes, at any cost. Would you rather keep a job that corrupts your soul just for the money? Sadly - no alarmingly - that is what our country has become...chasers of things and excuses and escapes.

Don't you want to be a fly on the wall watching a pharmacist sell these pills to a kid the age of their own and see if they swallow hard?