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Setting the Tone in Your Home

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I will never forget the day that little five year old Sawyer looked up at me and said, “Mama, you’re always mad.” It was a wake up call like no other. The truth is that I hadn’t realized how irritable I had become in that phase of life. But, when he said it, scenes flashed through my mind, revealing the hard truth that I had become increasingly unreasonable in my interactions with my family. I was turning every small inconvenience into a huge show of annoyance, and even though I didn’t necessarily feel angry and upset all the time, as far as my family was concerned, I was behaving like I was. Imagine how unpleasant it must’ve been for them to constantly wonder what was going to set me off next. Think of how the kids must’ve dreaded coming to me with a mistake or an accident. I had forgotten that I am the one who sets the tone in our home.

Mamas, you have been granted a special gift in the life of your family: you are the tone setter. It doesn’t matter if you have fancy decor or an immaculately clean house. It doesn’t matter if you work long hours or stay home all day long. When you are with your family, you guide the atmosphere. Your children are looking to you to provide them with a soft place to land after a wearying day in this big world. They are counting on you to greet them with smiles, to be able to deal with the stresses of your day without taking them out on your family. They are depending on your kindness, your unconditional love, your understanding, your courtesy. These are things that make it possible for your kids to walk through the door of your home and breathe a sigh of relief–because this is home, and being there with their mom is pleasant.

I am in no way saying that we shouldn’t discipline when we should, that we shouldn’t carry through with punishments and consequences as necessary. Children crave rules and structure–it’s one way that they know we love them enough to hold them accountable and teach them how to be responsible human beings. But, if we aren’t careful, dear sisters, we will let the overwhelming nature of running a family turn us into mothers and wives who are hard to tolerate. We can easily become prickly, rude, sarcastic, biting. We can be downright cold to the very people we love the most, and sometimes we can become that way without even realizing it.

And now I must speak a hard truth to all of us. The tone that we set in our homes is a direct reflection of our spiritual health. When we lash out at others, when we find that we are in short supply of love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control, when we can’t seem to speak a kind or positive word, when we are quick to criticize and slow to praise, then it is more than just a phase of high irritability. Chances are good that we have begun to try to live in our own strength instead of relying on Christ, that we have stopped studying His word with regularity, that our prayer life has gone stale and spotty. It’s quite a spiritual lesson for our children, when we show them that Christianity doesn’t make any difference at all in our ability to handle the cares of life, in our ability to shower love and mercy and grace on our families, in our ability to just smile at the little people that God entrusted to us.

It’s tough being a mama.

But it’s easier when we turn to Christ and ask Him to set the tone in our hearts. The Bible tells us that our mouths speak what our hearts are full of. (Luke 6:45) So, if we are responding to our family in unreasonably irritated ways, then we have a heart problem. We have to run to Jesus and let Him change the way we speak and the way we react. We have to ask Him to make us grateful, to make us joyful, and to give us a home that is welcoming to our very favorite people–our family.

What kind of tone are you setting, dear mother? Does it point your children to the abundant life that Christ offers? Or does it send the message that Christ can’t overcome a mother’s trials? Not every day will be a stellar tone-setting day, but after my wake up call from little Sawyer, I realized that what my family really needs from me on most days is just kindness. We can at least offer our dear ones the kind of courtesy that we show to acquaintances and friends. And we can never forget that our home is the place where our children get their first ideas about what God is like. Let’s show them His ways instead of our irritation, reaching for joy and peace with an open heart, an open Bible, and open arms.

Every Dark Shadow

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No one truly loves you until they have seen every dark shadow inside you and stayed. It was just another meme on Facebook. Just another quote designed to get clicks, created to appeal to people’s sense of romance. It helps us remember how blessed we are when people put up with our faults. When they see us at our lowest and they stick around anyway. There’s only one problem with the sentiment of the statement: no one has ever really seen every dark shadow inside of us.

And, this is a truth that we have a hard time wrapping our heads around. It’s something that we don’t like to think about: the depth of our sin. But, if we really want to be honest with ourselves, we know that there are parts of our wicked hearts that we will never reveal to anyone. There are things inside of us that would cause everyone we know to walk away. Our sin problem is so much bigger than we care to admit.

But, when we do take a head-spinning moment to recognize how deep and pitch black the pit of sin really is, not in other people, but in ourselves, we don’t have to despair. We don’t have to live in fear of being abandoned by our all-knowing God. He sees every dark shadow inside of us. Every single one. And, He is never going anywhere. Others may walk out on you. Others may give up on you.

Jesus stays.

 

For the Ordinary Women

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Today was a long day. By the time I finally cruised into the dollar store to buy cat food at nine o’clock tonight, I’m sure I looked as tired as I felt. I practically zombie walked to the aisle I needed and then went straight to the counter to pay.

At the cash register stood a young girl with a nose ring. Her hair was pulled back, but long blonde ringlets framed her face. There is no telling how many hours she had been on her feet in that store, but still she smiled and asked how my night was going. And then, while I fished in my gigantic black hole of a purse for my wallet, she told me that I look pretty tonight.

Just like that. She handed me that grace. That generous gift to a tired mama who almost certainly doesn’t look pretty tonight.

And I was surprised by how shocked I was.

I was blindsided by my utter disbelief that my version of forty years old is pretty, especially at the end of a very long day in the middle of a small town dollar store. But the word hung there between us, and all I could do was tell her thank you, genuinely grateful for the tender mercy of that phrase falling from a stranger’s mouth: you look pretty.

It’s getting harder and harder to feel pretty in our world. Pornography has changed our standards. Photoshop has created unattainable idols. And, the ordinary women of the world are left stranded in the wreckage, searching for some way to feel like we measure up. Waiting for some sign that we are worthy to be called pretty, that we are good enough in face and in body to be wanted by anyone.

So many lies are shoved into our faces every day–dishonest images from industries who care nothing for our hearts or souls. Imaginary bodies that have been altered to perfection. And we believe in them. We look at our own stretch-marked, acne-scarred, wrinkled selves and we despair. Every lie informs the way we feel about these bodies that God designed, and when someone finally speaks the truth to us–when they see a beauty in us and say so, we simply don’t believe it. A magazine cover of impossible proportions, yes, but a sincere comment from a sweet stranger in a dollar store someplace, no. Can’t you see these bags under my eyes? we wonder. Don’t you realize that my belly is too soft and my hair that was once a shock of vibrant red is growing dull? I mean, look at me. No falsehoods in this face or body. I am an ordinary, aging woman.

This is real. The lines around my eyes that reveal how often I’ve laughed. The round belly that cradled three babies while God knit them together. The freckles that are like a scrapbook of all the days I’ve played under the big Texas sun.  The extra pounds that I picked up over a million meals with the love of my life. The non-manicured hands that have washed dishes and babies and dogs, that have held tiny hands in the backseat, that have picked up lost blankies and matched up lost socks and wiped away thousands of little kid tears.

There is no perfection here.

But there is most certainly beauty.

I wish now that I had told that young cashier at the dollar store how striking she looked standing there, with her nose ring and her blonde ringlets. I wish I would have told her what that moment really meant to me, an exhausted, ordinary mother with a bag of Meow Mix cradled like a baby in her arms. I wish I would have shown her how most of the messages of this world are soul-crushing lies, but that we can’t believe them, we ordinary women who were intricately designed in the image of the one true God.

I left the dollar store and absentmindedly fed the hungry cat. She purred wildly as I stood there, bag of cat food still in my arms. She ate until her belly was round, and then she dropped at my feet in that carefree way that cats lounge. I thought of my own sandy-haired daughters and how hard they will try one day to meet impossible standards of beauty. I thought about how they will soon learn the heart-wrenching truth that there is no way to airbrush real life. And I prayed that they will grow into ordinary women who look in the mirror and see God’s hand.

Mama, Don’t You See? You are the Sun.

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I watched her today as she power walked beside her daddy, pumping her legs as fast as they would go just to keep up with his wide, manly stride. Emerald is growing long and lanky in her fifth year of life. Suddenly she seems more girlish than baby-ish, but still she takes three steps for every one of Chad’s.

We went to Six Flags, and I stood aside this time and watched as she rode the swings with her big sister. Around and around they went, one girl growing into a woman, and one baby growing into a girl, both of them swinging their legs as if they didn’t have a single care in this big, broken, beautiful world. Every time their swing came back around to where I was standing, Emerald reached out her little hand and waved. She didn’t just wave at me once or twice. Every single time I was in sight again, she searched for me and waved enthusiastically.

Motherhood is a long road with so many starts and stops, so many thrills and triumphs and heartaches and frustrations. It will wear you down and wear you out and it will wear you like last year’s too small swimsuit. Motherhood bears all and knows all and tells all.

But, please little mamas, don’t ever take for granted that small window in your long life when you are the sun of your child’s universe. Don’t let the weariness cause you to miss how she lights up when she sees your face. Don’t let the weight of it keep you from recognizing the relief that he feels when you turn the corner and there you are–the center of everything.

I am in no hurry to see this phase go. It is glorious and pain-staking and life-giving to be loved and cherished and adored by a child. Don’t miss it.

The God of the Hurricane

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They found her today, drifting there in the middle of the chaos of flood and hurricane, clinging to her mother’s lifeless body. She is only three. She has probably learned all kinds of words and phrases and ideas in the past year of her life. I remember when Emerald was three, and she handed me her cup. Here ya go, precious lady! she said, and I giggled and watched her big blue eyes and promised myself I would never forget it–such a grown up thing to come out of that tiny, heart-shaped three year old mouth.

I wonder where the little girl in the flood will find the vocabulary to express what she has been through today. I wonder where she will find the heart to survive the tragedy of watching her only mama, that precious lady, drown before her eyes. Her mother was trying to save her. And she did. The dear little girl was rescued from the swirling, teeming water by nameless men–heroes who keep going back into the turmoil of a world washed away by Hurricane Harvey.

So many stories are emerging from the wreckage of south Texas. But, this is the one that wrecks me. One tiny girl, clinging to the body that brought her into this world, holding tight to the mama who gave of herself in every possible way. Plucked from the choppy water. Kept by God. Sheltered by her sweet mother and a multitude of angels.

I’ve read of another mother who sheltered her baby in the water. She made a basket of reeds and placed her chubby son inside, shoving him out into the unknown, just grasping at the chance to save his life. He, too, was kept by God and guarded by angels until he was plucked from the treacherous waters of the Nile river.

Maybe one day someone will tell the little rescued Texan about baby Moses. Maybe eventually, when she begins to wrestle with the truth that God’s ways are higher than ours, when she wonders with heartbreak what hurricanes have to do with the glory of God, when she looks toward Heaven and cries out to her maker, Why?–maybe the church will be there with answers from God’s word. Maybe she will find a local body of believers who will take her in, who will nurture her with the good and true words of the Bible. Maybe she will find comfort in the greatness of a God who always has a plan, who wastes no storm, no heartache, no tragedy.

We need churches who will be there for her and for millions like her. Churches who refuse to bow at the altars that this world erects. Churches who unapologetically proclaim that God is sovereign and He is trustworthy–yes, even here, in rushing flood waters in Beaumont, Texas, in August of 2017. He is good, even here, in the death of one heroic mother and in the life of her cherished three year old daughter. He is powerful, even here, when the why is easy to ask and hard to answer. One thing we know for sure: He is righteous.

The God who directs the wind and the waves does what He will.  But, we must never forget, when we look at this sweet three year old miracle, that the God of the hurricane is also the God of the rescue. His ways are high. His purposes are good. And, His church should always be a light on a hill for those who wonder why. I pray that my church will be that. I pray that yours will, too. And, I pray that this sweet baby will one day run into the arms of a church that will teach her the truth that God had a good purpose in all of it.

The men were amazed and asked, “What kind of man is this? Even the
winds and the waves obey him!” Matthew 8:27

The Lord is good, a stronghold in the day of trouble, and He knows those who take refuge in Him.
Nahum 1:7

Praying Through the Bible for Your Kids

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Update: The winner of the giveaway is Kate! If you didn’t win but would still like to get the book, just follow the links in this post! Thanks to all who entered!

I often have people ask me what my strategies are for getting in Bible study time while I have three kids. The truth is, Bible reading and prayer time have been two of my biggest struggles as a Christian parent. Since I had kids, I have felt like my study time is short and somewhat distracted or, in some phases of motherhood, non-existent.

So, I wanted to share a resource with you that helps make Bible reading and prayer do-able for a busy mama. It’s called Praying Through the Bible for Your Kids by Nancy Guthrie. I honestly don’t even remember how I ran across this book or what made me order it, but here are a few things that I love about it.

First, it doubles as a plan for reading through the Bible in one year. Each day of your devotional has a suggested reading passage from the Old Testament, one from the New Testament, and a reading from Psalms and Proverbs. I grabbed a small Bible that I had on my shelf and am underlining each section as I read it. I’m a visual person, and so seeing what I’ve read so far is a good motivator for me. Plus, it helps me focus a little bit more on what I’m reading if I underline at the same time.

The book has a devotional thought for each day of the year that is related to Christianity and parenting. I like these because they are linked to one of the passages I have just read, and they aren’t fluffy or touchy-feely. They are straightforward calls to holiness and a genuine Christian life, and they help me to remember that what I say and do and who I am matters to these little people that I love.

At the end of each day, there is a short written prayer to use as a guide in praying for our kids. I don’t usually like “canned” prayers, but I appreciate these a lot because they help me pray for my kids in more creative ways, especially in specific areas of spiritual growth. I sometimes feel like I end up reciting the same prayers over and over again, but with this book I’m inspired to pray in ways that I hadn’t really thought of before.

Finally, I like this book because if you are having a crazy hectic day and you can’t do all of the suggested Bible reading, you can still spend a couple of minutes in the word and praying for your kids. A short time of study is better than none at all, and I find that even just a few minutes in God’s word makes me want more. This book helps you develop the habit of Bible reading and gives you a specific plan to help you as you go.

If you are a mother who struggles to know how to organize your Bible reading or how to find time to pray for your kids, this book will help you immensely. In fact, I love it so much that I’m going to give a copy to one of my readers! Just leave a comment. Any comment will do! For an extra five entries, go to my Facebook page and share this post with your friends! The giveaway will end on Monday, September 4th.

If you don’t want to wait for the giveaway, order a copy here. This book would also make a fabulous gift for all the moms in your life! Good luck and check back next week to see if you won!

When Our Beautiful Mess Isn’t

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I’m not going to lie. The kids and I have spent a lot of time listening to the Beatles lately. As one who was raised on the Beatles by Baby Boomer parents, I take some satisfaction in hearing all three of my kids belt out “She Loves You” at the top of their lungs while we drive home from school.

They are quite concerned about the spiritual well-being of the remaining members of the group, and Adelade and Sawyer are each currently writing letters to Paul McCartney and Ringo Starr, inviting them to come to our small town for church. But, if the traveling is too much of a hassle, Sawyer advised Ringo, “You don’t even have to come here for church. You could just go to First Baptist London.”

Yesterday in Sunday school, Emerald’s class was studying Paul’s letters to Timothy. As part of her lesson, she was supposed to write a letter to someone who has taught her something, thanking them. And, here is what she came up with:


Not exactly the “Sunday school answer” her teachers were probably looking for. Thankfully, they all have a great sense of humor and seem to be somewhat delighted when kids (especially the pastor’s kids) are a little weird.

Despite the fact that Emerald is possibly corrupting everyone in her Sunday school class, we really do occasionally listen to Christian music. Just a few days ago, I turned on a Christian radio station in time to hear a soundbyte from one of the DJs: “Just remember, nothing in your past is a mistake….if you learned from it.”

While the electric guitar kicked off the next song, I sat there shaking my head, wondering how it is that this is where mainstream Christianity has landed, in a place where sin is nothing more than “beautiful messiness,” where our pasts have to be declared good in order for us to feel that we can be redeemed from them.

God’s goodness is beautiful. His grace. His redemption. But, our past sin? Our current sin? Ugly. And all a huge, rotten, stinking mistake. If we call it anything else, we are denying our need for a Savior, and we are refusing to live in a posture of repentance and gratefulness for all that God’s love can rescue us from.

Can you imagine David looking at the overwhelming sins of his past and saying that they weren’t mistakes because he learned from them? Instead, he talked about his “broken spirit,” his “broken and contrite heart.” (Psalm 51) We don’t have to live under the condemnation of past sin, but we do need to have a proper view of what our sin means in the gospel story, and we don’t ever need to forget how depraved we really are. Once we start dismissing our past (or current) sin as nothing more than a good learning opportunity, then we have lost sight of how much we need Jesus and how far He had to go in order to redeem us in our sinful state. It should always grieve us to know that we sinned against God, even if He gave us a happy ending despite our disobedience. Anything we glean from past mistakes is a gift of the Holy Spirit, but it isn’t a means of justifying what we have done.

We are so desperate to call sin anything else that even our Christian radio stations assure us that there is no such thing as a mistake. Don’t be fooled, friends. Sin is waiting at your door, eager and willing to devour you heart and soul. I know a twelve year old and a nine year old who are willing to write letters to two brilliant old rock stars to tell them the truth about the sin that is killing them. Shouldn’t we be able to expect the same of each other? Of our Christian radio stations and books and pastors? Shouldn’t the church be about truth-telling and truth-believing, and not glossing over sin because that’s what seems most pleasant to do?

Don’t try to turn your sin into a show of you pulling yourself up by your bootstraps, of pride and self-satisfaction. There is plenty in your past and mine that is a mistake, no matter what we learned from it. Sin is wicked and wounds God’s heart. Let’s not ever let ourselves be lulled into believing otherwise.

Following Jesus is a Different Kind of Safe

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Dear Adelade, Sawyer, and Emerald,

The other day I received an email from some company or other, asking me to help promote a new children’s book. The book is about Jesus, whom I love. It is meant to teach children that Jesus is their friend and that He will always watch over them and keep them safe.

But, I couldn’t do it.

I couldn’t help spread a message to kids and their parents that as long as we follow Jesus we will not be put in dangerous situations. That bad things won’t happen to us. I can’t even pretend at bedtime, when you get philosophical in your pjs and your fresh-from-the-bath wet hair, that I am certain we will all live to be ripe old ages. Or that nothing like sickness or poverty or mental illness or emotional pain will ever touch us. I can’t lie to you with any kind of believe-ability about the kinds of horrors that are in our world, even about what you could see on the internet in five minutes that could change the whole trajectory of your life. There are life-altering moments going on all over this world as I write this. Devastation is real and it’s powerful and it’s prevalent in this dark place.

Christians are not immune to the horrors, kids. We are not always safe in a world of natural disasters and man-crafted disasters and the heartache that comes from them. Jesus never promised us that He would make sure that physical pain and suffering and death wouldn’t plague us while we are on this earth. In fact, He promised the exact opposite. “In this world you will have trouble,” He said plainly to His disciples. And, scripture and tradition tell us that eventually all but John would go on to die for their belief in Him, one by one–stoned, beheaded, speared, crucified.

You have been in the hospitals. In the funeral homes. You have watched grieving families wail together. You have seen the nursing homes, filled with the sick and the frail, those bent by old age, those who don’t ever seem to smile anymore, staring blankly at some invisible mark on the floor. You have seen Christian people suffer. And, you know that heartbreak comes to each of us in different ways at different times. There is no guarantee against pain and catastrophe.

But, you don’t have to despair, little ones. When Jesus told His followers that they would have trouble in this world, He also told them this: “But, take heart. For I have overcome the world.”

Following Jesus is a different kind of safe.

It is knowing that we don’t have to fear people or illnesses or death. It is knowing that even when we are suffering, when we are dying, when we’re in unreal pain, when we’re struggling just to get up in the morning and put one foot in front of the other, we are still in His hand. It is realizing that nothing in this is wide world can separate us from the love of Christ. It is seeing first-hand that His way is the way that protects our hearts the best. And, it is knowing that even when our hearts get shattered into a million pieces, when all is lost and there is no hope in anything that any human being can offer us, Christ is enough. And, He is forever. And He is in control.

When it hurts, we can trust Him. When a dark cloud seems to be settling over us, we can believe in His goodness. When we are standing next to a precious one’s grave, we can take comfort in His purposes. When we are facing certain death, we can know a deep peace that is a mystery to those who don’t know Him.

You may one day be staring down some terrifying circumstance. You will face trouble in this life. Your bodies are frail, and life is short. But, you are not bound by these bodies.

There are plenty of ways to die. But, there is only one way to live.

You see, kids, knowing Jesus is the only safety there is. He is the only way. The only truth. The only life. He will never leave you or forget you or decide He doesn’t want you. And, your precious, unique, fearfully and wonderfully made selves–your souls–can never be harmed while you are in His care. And, you are always, always in His care.

So, I guess the writer of the children’s book wasn’t completely wrong when she said that Jesus will always watch over you and keep you safe. But, it’s a different kind of safe. And, it’s the only kind that really matters to eternity.

I pray you live long and joyful lives on this earth and that you love Jesus more and know Him more with every passing year. But, when you face trouble, when you are standing at the foot of a mountain that makes you weak in the knees, when you are trembling from the inside out, remember that no matter what happens in this life, you are completely safe in the hand of Jesus Christ. Live with peace and joy. Take heart. He has overcome the world.

I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world. John 16:33

Neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord. Romans 8:39

My sheep listen to my voice; I know them, and they follow me. I give them eternal life, and they shall never perish; no one will snatch them out of my hand. John 10:27-28

Jesus answered, “I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.” John 14:6

Sex Should be Spiritual

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God designed sex within marriage to be a sacred, pleasurable, and spiritual act. We don’t often stop and think about how amazing it really is that God invented sex and gave it such potential to build a physical and spiritual union between two people in the safety and devotion of a Christian marriage. Sex is an amazing gift, a chance to be bonded in body, mind and spirit. One flesh. Yet everywhere I turn Christian people seem to be struggling with sex.

It seems that we have taken what should be a true blessing in our marriages and have turned it into a chore. Women are constantly joking about trying to get out of having sex with their husbands. Husbands are constantly joking about how they don’t get enough sex. And, somewhere in the middle of all of the casual talk about it, are two people, naked and vulnerable in the quiet of their own bedroom, struggling to figure out how to connect spiritually while they make love.

We live in a world that is unbelievably sexual. Every commercial, television show, book, and magazine is putting sexual images and ideas into our minds every day. Porn culture has warped our idea of what sex is. It isn’t a union of two bodies and souls, but a chance to get what we want. Slowly the notion has crept into our minds that we need satisfaction by whatever means necessary, even in Christian marriage. So, we come to the sacred place where we should be experiencing a spiritual union with our spouse, and we bring along years’ worth of images and fantasies that have nothing to do with them. And, instead of being completely present in this beautiful moment, instead of wholly giving ourselves to our spouse, we retreat and call up these images, and the spiritual union is weakened at best, and completely severed at worst.

No wonder Christian marriages are having sex problems.

Pornography is a huge part of the problem. But, maybe you don’t watch porn. You have seen plenty of movies, read plenty of books, created plenty of fantasies in your mind that don’t involve your spouse. The truth is that unless we are diligent about it, we will all allow our minds to wander to scenes that we have viewed or imagined, even when we are in the middle of trying to make love to our spouse. We may not even realize what we’re doing, inviting other people into this holy moment. Letting outside ideas and images crowd in on the beautiful act of giving ourselves to one another. How can we expect to achieve a soul-to-soul union with our husband or wife when we are escaping to some love scene or pornographic image? Before long we forget how to really be present in this divine moment, this spiritual experience of loving the person right in front of us, in the ways that only we can. We have to keep ourselves anchored to each other during sex, and the only way to do that is to banish outside images from our minds. Not only that, but we have to be careful to keep from bringing brand new images into our minds, by guarding what we see and hear and read.

I know many of you are thinking that this is not a big deal, or that it is impossible to have sex without calling up images and ideas that have aroused you in the past. But, if it were an impossibility, why would Paul advise us to take every thought captive to obey Christ? (2 Corinthians 10:5) If it is no big deal, then why did he tell us to think about what is noble, right, pure, admirable, excellent and praiseworthy? (Philippians 4:8) Why would Jesus tell us that anyone who looks at a woman (or man) to lust after her (or him) has already committed adultery in their heart? (Matthew 5:28)

The truth is that when we allow images of other people into our minds when we are having sex with our spouse, we are sinning, and our sex life will never achieve the spiritual depth and emotional closeness that God designed it for. There is a better way to have sex in Christian marriage. And, it isn’t just okay sex. It is life-giving, soul-stirring, and it connects you to your spouse in ways you didn’t even realize were possible. Kick everyone else out of your head. This moment is for the two of you alone, body to body, soul to soul. Anything else will lead to a lifetime of sexual emptiness, physical connection with no spiritual bond. And, despite what this world tells you, that will never be truly satisfying.

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