Sculptures vs Paper Mache

The innocence you possess as a baby is a healing balm to my battered soul from the business I work in. It is sweet and comforting, something I long to protect and wish I could for the rest of my life.

They say a mother's love is fierce. The thousand lions roaring in my chest over you makes this saying such an understatement. The fierceness is downright frightening.

But I'm not deceived to think that underneath that innocence is something terrible waiting to be exploited as you grow.

It is your own heart. Son, your precious, little heart is beautiful to me. But I know it wants what it wants and it always will. It's a river of muddy waters where what was designed for good is lost and corrupted in the depths of self-consumption.

I hate this. And I hate the very thought of you being swept up in the mindless channels of your own heart, becoming enslaved to its passions and sins that wreck your soul.

You will be told and tempted to believe that there's nothing wrong in drinking from these putrid waters. "Boys will do what boys do. Live and let live. All things are permissable."

This generation, this culture is cruel and deceptive and will consume without mercy. The question is always: How in the world can a young man keep his way pure?

You're barely 5 months old, but I think of this now. Because the work begins now in protecting what I so treasure.

I asked your dad what he would tell you if you were older. His first response was "Don't date crazy girls."

So appropriate. But after further reflection, here's what he said:

Don’t accept a substitute for true beauty. There is so much calling for your attention. So many things come across your eyes. So many things claiming to be beautiful.

Don’t mistake the imitations for the real thing. Don’t mistake a paper mache statue for a beautiful marble sculpture. While both may be delightful, one is only a cheap replica while the other has lasting beauty.

Son, do not be deceived. There is truth. And there is beauty. And it is not just in the eye of the beholder. It is in the hands of the One who created it… to last for eternity.

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