raising girls from the inside out

We are rounding the corner on Christmas here, finishing up the school semester, and I just walked out of my oldest child's parent/teacher conference. We have officially been living in Europe long enough to have formed relationships, and to receive a progress report on an academic semester.

While speaking with the teachers, I realized I was nervous about how my daughter was adapting. Unconsciously, I am burdening a large part of the responsibility for how my children adjust during the numerous transitions they were given no voice to avoid. We do that as parents, trying to carry our children's burdens for them. Because we love them so greatly that we don't want our children to suffer for our choices.

It is always tempting to give our children the gift of perfections, especially our daughters. Whether that means perfectly orchestrated Christmas traditions, or beautifully wrapped presents, or an orderly life that never includes mishaps about where we might be living next year.

But who ever said that giving them our own perfections was a GIFT?  Maybe it isn't a gift for them to grow up in all of those displays of Pinterest perfection. Maybe our imperfections are more of a gift because they help shape our daughters into women of character, help them learn to adapt, help them be less judgmental of others, and help them, one day, to expect less perfection out of themselves.

At the parent/teacher conference I was given a report about my daughter's strengths, and some decided weaknesses. We can't all be good at everything. A lesson I am still learning for myself. Her teachers were gentle and warm, and a special gift in this season. So, where was all of my nervous energy coming from?

Perhaps because, more than anything else in this season of unknowns, I want for my daughter to be known. I want her to be understood and valued for who she is separate from what she produces. When she isn't performing up to some elusive standard, I fear she won't be recognized or celebrated for the unique individual God created her to be in a way that breaches accomplishment.

That becomes more important with each growing year, doesn't it? In our world, to excel is to be valued. Achievement is awarded. Performance is celebrated, whether in sports or in dance or in academics or in simple behavior patterns. I don't actually disagree with this, and I am not proposing that we stop celebrating excellence. I just see how it can eat away at all of the ones who fall below the line. Little ones and big ones alike. Even at 8-years-old, it's hard not to be the best at anything.

In a world that values achievement, it is a struggle to parent in a way that speaks intrinsic value into the lives of little girls. Intrinsic because it is unearned and incapable of being lost.

Speaking that kind of value into the worth of a little girl happens only in the active state. It takes effort and forethought to be intentional, and it takes a million repetitions. The passive state is the far easier one, letting the environment do its work while the messages of negative self-talk and ambient criticism take root.

This is a world not always very kind to girls, but we must actively say, "Go, and be the kindest girl in school!"

This is a world that celebrates a fleeting kind of beauty, but we must say, "Your beauty comes from who you are and Who you love."

In a world that loves to tear down, we need to intentionally build girls up, and teach them to build up each other.

The older my girls grow, the more I realize that these are values that cannot be coming from me alone. It takes a village.

It takes a village of people in every little girl's life to overcome all the messages that contradict. It takes teachers, and surrogate mother-friends, and pastors, and youth group leaders, and Sunday school volunteers, and playground supervisors, and grandparents, and coaches, and people in our lives who take the time to get to know our children inside and outside of school. Intentionally. Actively. Championing from the inside out.

It is a challenge to go, and be the village that raises up the next generation of little girls.

Little girls, go and be kind, and beautiful from the inside out, and may you learn well the art of building each other up.

The blessing of a sister is the blessing of getting to practice this first at home. As we say often, friends will come and go, but sisters are forever.

These photos were taken to a recent weekend trip to the Bregenzerwald in Austria where Sommer enjoyed all of the positive attention she received while hiking around the Alps in a borrowed poofy princess dress.

The below photo was taken in the exact same spot as a favorite photo from our visit to Austria 3.5 years ago. Time is passing us up...

NOVEMBER 2016, girls ages 8 & 5

MAY 2013, girls ages 4.5 & 1.5