Lately, I've had this #nofilter idea running around in my head. It's been an interesting phenomenon to watch on Instagram over the years. If you recall, when Instagram first burst onto the social media scene, the amazing thing about it and the thing that made it so attractive was its many filters. In just a couple of clicks, your ordinary picture of a dog can become a literal Norman Rockwell painting. That flower you snapped on the way into your house? A museum-ready Monet with just the punch of a button. Your baby? Might as well be an Anne Geddes model. The filtered world that Instagram ushered in made merely attractive girls look like supermodels and turned blemishes into beauty. But then, a new trend emerged, that of the #nofilter photograph. Whereas we had once been completely enraptured by the filtered versions of pictures, we are now clamoring to prove that our picture hasn't been altered…that it is naturally that beautiful, that we don't need the aid of a filter to show you the magnificent site we've captured. It's interesting…the very thing we used to love is now the thing we are trying not to identify with. It just doesn't satisfy. It isn't the real deal.
Another phenomenon about social media in general is that it's ALL filtered. Occasionally you find the one person who isn't filtered and tells you everything about what they're doing all the time, their opinions on everything and how they feel about everything. But for the most part, we all unfriend/hide or unfollow those people pretty quickly. Everyone else…filtered. And that's how we like it. I'm not even sure that's not how it should be. But, I'm finding that if I'm not careful, I actually buy my own hype.
On social media, I'm an absolutely fabulous mother with perfect (and beautiful) children who loves my Braves and my Gators (both WINNERS at the time of this writing) and my church and my friends and my God. I love coffee and quiet time, my dog (who is actually perfect) and my husband (who is a certified rock star.) Those things are 100% true (well, maybe I'm not an ABSOLUTELY fabulous mother...) and though there are photographic filters applied here and there, the pictures are real as is the story behind them. But, they're the filtered version of my life. You cannot possibly know the real me from social media. You can know a lot about me and you can know what I'm okay with you knowing. But you can't really know me because I've filtered what you're getting. And though I'm uncomfortable saying it, it's okay that you're only getting the filtered version of me…on social media, that is. In fact, that's probably the way you like it. And that's okay too. Real, unfiltered lives are messy.
The problem comes when I let the filtered me be the one those closest to me relate to. When I let my spouse, my children and my friends begin relating to the filtered me, I'm on a slippery slope. When I start setting the filtered me before God, I'm in real trouble. And…when I actually buy my own filtered hype, I'm in for a rude awakening.
Recently, as this #nofilter thing began catching my attention, I really felt God pressing me toward authenticity with Him and the close, safe people in my life. I began asking what He wanted to show me through the process and how He wanted to shape me. (Side note: do NOT ask God what He wants to show you and how He wants to shape you if you don't want to be shown or shaped.) I started letting the filter come down a little with those safe people. All at once? Well no, I didn't want to literally blow them off the face of planet earth with the unfiltered me. But I did let the filter come down slowly and as appropriate. (You need to be sure that those closest to you WANT to relate to the unfiltered you…those will be your truly safe friends.) One friend confided that I was carrying a "heaviness" that was concerning her. Another friend invited me into an intensive several week Bible Study dealing with some very hard things which then exposed some equally ugly things in me. I submitted myself in two conversations with friends and they were free to say what they saw in me. One said "pride". The other said "critical spirit." Interestingly…those were the two things that God had been showing me as I was submitting myself to His scrutiny as well. How kind of Him (and also painful) to provide earthly confirmation of His heavenly urging to get those things rooted out of my life.
This has been and is still a painful process and season. I'm by no means in a "happy go lucky, all is right with the world" place, but by the grace of God, I AM in a "it is well with my soul" place. I am pressed, but NOT crushed. I am finding that I highly value those who know the real me and don't only get their information on or about me from social media. Those people are most likely to raise the flag when I start buying the filtered version of myself. Do I need to expose all corners of my life on social media? Certainly not. But, in a world where we wake up to check it, check it before bed, get our news and current events from it, find out about others on it, often use it to communicate (and even let it attack our identity and security every so often…yes, ladies?) it can become very easy to elevate it to a place it has no business being. It can cloud the authenticity needed in my life for me to be subject to the continuing refining scrutiny of the Holy Spirit. When I'm creating a filtered photo for the world to see, I'm starting to ask myself…"is this truly me?"
Social media has its place, to be sure…but in a world where it has invaded every aspect of our culture, it's helpful to remember that the place it should never invade is our authenticity before God and those closest to us who are so instrumental in the refinement process. If you're finding that you long for people who know the real you, ask yourself the following questions:
Who in my life knows me without my filters?
Have I allowed those people to hold me accountable and ask me the hard questions?
Do those closest to me even know I'm willing to hear the truth about me?
What's it like on the other side of me? (this was a brilliant question suggested by a friend of mine)
God is faithful. He will not leave you unanswered when you come before Him and ask for His perspective. I'm urging all of us to be honest and transparent as we relate to those closest to us and in doing so, may we find ourselves learning more about ourselves and the character of Jesus. Only He can truly take us with #nofilter and transform our lives for His glory.
God, investigate my life; get all the facts firsthand. I’m an open book to you; even from a distance, you know what I’m thinking. You know when I leave and when I get back; I’m never out of your sight. You know everything I’m going to say before I start the first sentence. I look behind me and you’re there, then up ahead and you’re there, too— your reassuring presence, coming and going. This is too much, too wonderful— I can’t take it all in!
Is there anyplace I can go to avoid your Spirit? to be out of your sight? If I climb to the sky, you’re there! If I go underground, you’re there! If I flew on morning’s wings to the far western horizon, You’d find me in a minute—you’re already there waiting! Then I said to myself, “Oh, he even sees me in the dark! At night I’m immersed in the light!” It’s a fact: darkness isn’t dark to you; night and day, darkness and light, they’re all the same to you.
Oh yes, you shaped me first inside, then out; you formed me in my mother’s womb. I thank you, High God—you’re breathtaking! Body and soul, I am marvelously made! I worship in adoration—what a creation! You know me inside and out, you know every bone in my body; You know exactly how I was made, bit by bit, how I was sculpted from nothing into something. Like an open book, you watched me grow from conception to birth; all the stages of my life were spread out before you, The days of my life all prepared before I’d even lived one day.
Your thoughts—how rare, how beautiful! God, I’ll never comprehend them! I couldn’t even begin to count them—any more than I could count the sand of the sea. Oh, let me rise in the morning and live always with you! And please, God, do away with wickedness for good! And you murderers—out of here!— all the men and women who belittle you, God, infatuated with cheap god-imitations. See how I hate those who hate you, God, see how I loathe all this godless arrogance; I hate it with pure, unadulterated hatred. Your enemies are my enemies!
Investigate my life, O God, find out everything about me; Cross-examine and test me, get a clear picture of what I’m about; See for yourself whether I’ve done anything wrong— then guide me on the road to eternal life. Psalm 139
Thursday, September 26, 2013
Tuesday, September 17, 2013
taylor swift, instagram & middle school mania...
Today, I saw this quote from C.S. Lewis: "Whenever you are fed up with life, start writing: ink is a great cure of all human ills."
This writing isn't as much about being "fed up" as being resolved. But the principle is the same. Start writing.
In August of this year, I crossed the chasm from "mother of small children" to "mother of a middle schooler." I don't know why, but I kind of thought that it would be a seamless transition devoid of drama and due to expert maneuvering on our part as parents, Maggie would float euphorically through middle and high school until the day I sat at her high school graduation and proclaimed victory over the teenage years of peril as we escaped unscathed and bearing no scars. Yeah.
It's September and we've already dealt with a crush on a boy, d-r-a-m-a with a girl, tears over hurt feelings, begging for social media and questions surrounding the music she can and can't listen to. Alas, I see my euphoria evaporating a bit more each day as I resign myself to the reality of a journey full of molding, shaping, defining, refining, rinsing and repeating.
Graciously, God uses all parenting failures and successes to further root in me what it must be like as He Fathers me. This would not be from His side of course, because He's perfect, but oh the drama I can bring on myself. That's for later...
I get asked quite often if I let my kids do such and such, watch this and that, listen to so and so...and so on. Even though I don't think any parenting style can be boiled down to the details of what we do and don't watch or listen to, I am always forthcoming when asked because people are usually wanting to legitimately know how and why we parent the way that we do and there's a chance to discuss the principles that govern our parenting. There is always the risk that someone won't understand or that we'll be judged as "too strict" or "out of touch." For me, it's a risk worth taking.
:: Taylor Swift ::
The other day Maggie wanted to add some things to her "Maggie's Music" playlist on the old iPhone 3Gs that she uses as an iPod. [In the event that you may be one of those people that is appalled that an 11 year old would be using an iPhone for something like playing music, I need to let you know that the screen on this phone is shattered beyond comprehension. It's actually a physical hazard for her to swipe her finger across it without a screen protector on it. Trust me, this ain't a walk in the electronic park.] Anyway...
She asked her Dad if she could add my Taylor Swift albums to her playlist. He looked at me...my answer was no. Her inevitable question followed: "But mom, if you can listen to them, why can't I?" I love questions like this and do you know why? She is literally asking to be taught. [Side note: The worst thing you and I can do in moments like that is say "Because I said so." That gives them nothing to build upon...no principle for the future.] Instead, I took a beat and then said: "Because Taylor Swift sings about things that you don't need to concern yourself with at 11 years old. You need to be putting things in your mind that build you up and increase your faith, not take your mind to a place it doesn't need to go." Now, you may be thinking "what kind of horrible mother doesn't let their daughter listen to Taylor Swift? I mean, she's TAYLOR SWIFT." Yes, she is. And she's a phenomenal songwriter and her voice has grown on me over the years and I have her records. I'm not ancient and out of touch, but I also am not going to let societal norms determine my parenting. I will parent with societal norms in mind, but will determine with my husband and before God how to best raise our children. Back to T-Swift.
In an interesting twist, Maggie knows every T-Swift song that's ever been released and can sing along to anything that's had any radio airplay. Why? Because the elementary school she went to for two years played Taylor and Carrie and Katy and Beyonce and anything else without a swear word (or with a clean version done by Kidz Bop - a la Maroon Five) during P.E. and she has a steel trap mind like her mother, so she had them memorized by the third time through. I know, I know... "if she already knows the songs, why don't you just let her have the albums?" I don't let her have the albums because she will listen to the songs over and over and over until the lyrics are so firmly entrenched in her mind that she couldn't forget them if she tried. How do I know this? Because I still know all of the lyrics to all of the songs I shouldn't know all of the lyrics to. That's why. No, my parents didn't let me have trashy music...but yes, I did manage to get my hands on some.
Does she pretty much know the songs? Yes. Does she hear them when they play in the store and hum along? Yes. Is that going to pollute her mind beyond cure? No. Am I going to let her have the records now? Nope. Will I let her someday? Probably. Because someday she'll be mature enough to understand love and loss and rejection and heartbreak and jealousy and cheating and puppy love and infatuation and identity...but for now...she isn't mature enough. She can't properly place all of those things in her limited understanding. So instead of letting T-Swift or Carrie shape that for her (after all, they're in their 20's...they can sing about whatever they want), we're going to "shelter" her a little while longer and help her recognize her identity in Christ, apart from a relationship with a boy and before the words "we are never ever ever getting back together" and "next time he'll think before he cheats" shape it for her. Hear me clearly...Taylor Swift is not asking to shape my daughter's identity...it's not her responsibility. God has given me and Jeffrey the stewardship of that for Maggie. She will continue to have amazing music on her iPod that breathes life and faith into her little musical heart. She will continue to hear scripture over and over and over as she goes to sleep at night until she can't help but have it memorized. She will also continue to hear songs beyond her iPod that she'll know, recognize and still not be allowed to own the albums for. Society is sitting at the ready to shape my daughter's worth, esteem and identity and they'll do it for me if I don't step up...and I'm not going down without a fight. Speaking of identity...
:: Instagram ::
Maggie now has the privilege of going to student ministry at our church and her first time was a few weeks ago. She is pumped and I am still adjusting to the fact that I'm the parent of a middle schooler.
After the first time in student ministry Maggie ran up to me beaming and asked "Mom, can I have a phone and an Instagram account now? They said we have to have Instagram or we won't know what's going on!!" [Confession: I did NOT have all positive "how can I use this as a teaching moment?" thoughts immediately after this question. Those came later after I resisted the urge to make up a reason why our church needed to seriously consider keeping 6th graders as elementary students at church even though they were in middle schools during the week. Just being honest.]
Eventually, however, I did make sense of it all and realized the beginning of what would probably be many years of "but everyone else..." conversation starters from our oldest. Bless her heart, she has to pave the way for Jack and Ali and I am praying she's up for it. But, here's the thing...
Instagram can be an identity crisis for ME if I don't keep it in its proper place. It can be a lovely connecting tool, but why on earth would I visit that identity-attacking, worth-measuring, filter-using world onto my eleven year old daughter? She's been walking around on earth for eleven years. Just eleven. "How many likes did I get? How many people are following me? Who stopped following me? Why didn't I get invited to that? Why don't I get to go there? Why is she in pictures with her? Are they best friends now? What does that hashtag mean? Are they using a secret language?" Again, as in the case of the music she listens to...my eleven year old precious, chatty, happy, full of life daughter does not have the maturity or the understanding to have Instagram in its proper place.
I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that I am a lavishly-loved, desired, treasured, chosen, adored, approved and beautiful daughter of the King of the Universe and I've been walking around on the earth for 30 (ahem) some odd years. Even still, Instagram and I have had to have several timeouts from one another. When I was eleven, there was nothing that even had the chance to rival the damage that social media can do these days and it's going to be awhile before my daughter (or her siblings) are mature enough to figure out the proper place for social media in a life defined and shaped by Jesus. Good grief...I'm still trying to figure out its proper place in my own life.
Interesting fact about Instagram specifically: the "legal" age of use is 13 years of age. Apparently you'd have to falsify a birth date to even get an account younger than 13 years old. I don't know if that part's true...I haven't tried. What a parent permits their child to do in this case isn't my issue either. Plenty of kids younger than 13 have Instagram...but mine will not. She's just. not. ready.
The good news is that Maggie was able to read in black and white that Instagram doesn't approve accounts for anyone under 13 years of age. That has taken care of this particular question for at least two years. She was also assured that she will not, in fact, be confused as to what is going on in student ministry just because she doesn't have Instagram. (Coincidentally, even at my age, I can still be caught buying the lie that I'll somehow be 'missing out' or be 'out of the know' without social media...)
For now we can focus on all of the "others may, but you may not..." things that will surely be popping up for the next 10 years or so. I know it's worth it. Because I'm further down the road than she is. And my parents were further down the road than me. I know that this responsibility to "train up a child..." is a HUGE one. And I also know that "He who called me is faithful and He will do it."
This protection of my child's identity and her understanding of her worth makes me wonder just how often God has protected me from something I was begging for...because in His wisdom He knew I just. wasn't. ready.
So in this maze of middle school mania (and the mania in my own life at times) my prayer is: "O for grace to trust Him more."
Molding, shaping, defining, refining, rinsing and repeating.
This writing isn't as much about being "fed up" as being resolved. But the principle is the same. Start writing.
In August of this year, I crossed the chasm from "mother of small children" to "mother of a middle schooler." I don't know why, but I kind of thought that it would be a seamless transition devoid of drama and due to expert maneuvering on our part as parents, Maggie would float euphorically through middle and high school until the day I sat at her high school graduation and proclaimed victory over the teenage years of peril as we escaped unscathed and bearing no scars. Yeah.
It's September and we've already dealt with a crush on a boy, d-r-a-m-a with a girl, tears over hurt feelings, begging for social media and questions surrounding the music she can and can't listen to. Alas, I see my euphoria evaporating a bit more each day as I resign myself to the reality of a journey full of molding, shaping, defining, refining, rinsing and repeating.
Graciously, God uses all parenting failures and successes to further root in me what it must be like as He Fathers me. This would not be from His side of course, because He's perfect, but oh the drama I can bring on myself. That's for later...
I get asked quite often if I let my kids do such and such, watch this and that, listen to so and so...and so on. Even though I don't think any parenting style can be boiled down to the details of what we do and don't watch or listen to, I am always forthcoming when asked because people are usually wanting to legitimately know how and why we parent the way that we do and there's a chance to discuss the principles that govern our parenting. There is always the risk that someone won't understand or that we'll be judged as "too strict" or "out of touch." For me, it's a risk worth taking.
:: Taylor Swift ::
The other day Maggie wanted to add some things to her "Maggie's Music" playlist on the old iPhone 3Gs that she uses as an iPod. [In the event that you may be one of those people that is appalled that an 11 year old would be using an iPhone for something like playing music, I need to let you know that the screen on this phone is shattered beyond comprehension. It's actually a physical hazard for her to swipe her finger across it without a screen protector on it. Trust me, this ain't a walk in the electronic park.] Anyway...
She asked her Dad if she could add my Taylor Swift albums to her playlist. He looked at me...my answer was no. Her inevitable question followed: "But mom, if you can listen to them, why can't I?" I love questions like this and do you know why? She is literally asking to be taught. [Side note: The worst thing you and I can do in moments like that is say "Because I said so." That gives them nothing to build upon...no principle for the future.] Instead, I took a beat and then said: "Because Taylor Swift sings about things that you don't need to concern yourself with at 11 years old. You need to be putting things in your mind that build you up and increase your faith, not take your mind to a place it doesn't need to go." Now, you may be thinking "what kind of horrible mother doesn't let their daughter listen to Taylor Swift? I mean, she's TAYLOR SWIFT." Yes, she is. And she's a phenomenal songwriter and her voice has grown on me over the years and I have her records. I'm not ancient and out of touch, but I also am not going to let societal norms determine my parenting. I will parent with societal norms in mind, but will determine with my husband and before God how to best raise our children. Back to T-Swift.
In an interesting twist, Maggie knows every T-Swift song that's ever been released and can sing along to anything that's had any radio airplay. Why? Because the elementary school she went to for two years played Taylor and Carrie and Katy and Beyonce and anything else without a swear word (or with a clean version done by Kidz Bop - a la Maroon Five) during P.E. and she has a steel trap mind like her mother, so she had them memorized by the third time through. I know, I know... "if she already knows the songs, why don't you just let her have the albums?" I don't let her have the albums because she will listen to the songs over and over and over until the lyrics are so firmly entrenched in her mind that she couldn't forget them if she tried. How do I know this? Because I still know all of the lyrics to all of the songs I shouldn't know all of the lyrics to. That's why. No, my parents didn't let me have trashy music...but yes, I did manage to get my hands on some.
Does she pretty much know the songs? Yes. Does she hear them when they play in the store and hum along? Yes. Is that going to pollute her mind beyond cure? No. Am I going to let her have the records now? Nope. Will I let her someday? Probably. Because someday she'll be mature enough to understand love and loss and rejection and heartbreak and jealousy and cheating and puppy love and infatuation and identity...but for now...she isn't mature enough. She can't properly place all of those things in her limited understanding. So instead of letting T-Swift or Carrie shape that for her (after all, they're in their 20's...they can sing about whatever they want), we're going to "shelter" her a little while longer and help her recognize her identity in Christ, apart from a relationship with a boy and before the words "we are never ever ever getting back together" and "next time he'll think before he cheats" shape it for her. Hear me clearly...Taylor Swift is not asking to shape my daughter's identity...it's not her responsibility. God has given me and Jeffrey the stewardship of that for Maggie. She will continue to have amazing music on her iPod that breathes life and faith into her little musical heart. She will continue to hear scripture over and over and over as she goes to sleep at night until she can't help but have it memorized. She will also continue to hear songs beyond her iPod that she'll know, recognize and still not be allowed to own the albums for. Society is sitting at the ready to shape my daughter's worth, esteem and identity and they'll do it for me if I don't step up...and I'm not going down without a fight. Speaking of identity...
:: Instagram ::
Maggie now has the privilege of going to student ministry at our church and her first time was a few weeks ago. She is pumped and I am still adjusting to the fact that I'm the parent of a middle schooler.
After the first time in student ministry Maggie ran up to me beaming and asked "Mom, can I have a phone and an Instagram account now? They said we have to have Instagram or we won't know what's going on!!" [Confession: I did NOT have all positive "how can I use this as a teaching moment?" thoughts immediately after this question. Those came later after I resisted the urge to make up a reason why our church needed to seriously consider keeping 6th graders as elementary students at church even though they were in middle schools during the week. Just being honest.]
Eventually, however, I did make sense of it all and realized the beginning of what would probably be many years of "but everyone else..." conversation starters from our oldest. Bless her heart, she has to pave the way for Jack and Ali and I am praying she's up for it. But, here's the thing...
Instagram can be an identity crisis for ME if I don't keep it in its proper place. It can be a lovely connecting tool, but why on earth would I visit that identity-attacking, worth-measuring, filter-using world onto my eleven year old daughter? She's been walking around on earth for eleven years. Just eleven. "How many likes did I get? How many people are following me? Who stopped following me? Why didn't I get invited to that? Why don't I get to go there? Why is she in pictures with her? Are they best friends now? What does that hashtag mean? Are they using a secret language?" Again, as in the case of the music she listens to...my eleven year old precious, chatty, happy, full of life daughter does not have the maturity or the understanding to have Instagram in its proper place.
I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that I am a lavishly-loved, desired, treasured, chosen, adored, approved and beautiful daughter of the King of the Universe and I've been walking around on the earth for 30 (ahem) some odd years. Even still, Instagram and I have had to have several timeouts from one another. When I was eleven, there was nothing that even had the chance to rival the damage that social media can do these days and it's going to be awhile before my daughter (or her siblings) are mature enough to figure out the proper place for social media in a life defined and shaped by Jesus. Good grief...I'm still trying to figure out its proper place in my own life.
Interesting fact about Instagram specifically: the "legal" age of use is 13 years of age. Apparently you'd have to falsify a birth date to even get an account younger than 13 years old. I don't know if that part's true...I haven't tried. What a parent permits their child to do in this case isn't my issue either. Plenty of kids younger than 13 have Instagram...but mine will not. She's just. not. ready.
The good news is that Maggie was able to read in black and white that Instagram doesn't approve accounts for anyone under 13 years of age. That has taken care of this particular question for at least two years. She was also assured that she will not, in fact, be confused as to what is going on in student ministry just because she doesn't have Instagram. (Coincidentally, even at my age, I can still be caught buying the lie that I'll somehow be 'missing out' or be 'out of the know' without social media...)
For now we can focus on all of the "others may, but you may not..." things that will surely be popping up for the next 10 years or so. I know it's worth it. Because I'm further down the road than she is. And my parents were further down the road than me. I know that this responsibility to "train up a child..." is a HUGE one. And I also know that "He who called me is faithful and He will do it."
This protection of my child's identity and her understanding of her worth makes me wonder just how often God has protected me from something I was begging for...because in His wisdom He knew I just. wasn't. ready.
So in this maze of middle school mania (and the mania in my own life at times) my prayer is: "O for grace to trust Him more."
Molding, shaping, defining, refining, rinsing and repeating.
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