I guess you have seen the little [1] Moms For Modesty button on my sidebar. I am definitely a mom for modesty. Modesty is one of the bees in my bonnet. When Emily grew out of 6x the troubles began. Her shoe size has also been a bit of a problem. She is a little girl with adult sized feet. She isn’t going to be short and round like her mother but tall and willowy like the Rollinseseses.

It has been a struggle. I mostly buy her clothes on Ebay because I can choose the labels I like: Laura Ashley, Hannah Andersson etc. The real problem though is that when we go to church we see lots of older girls being immodest. I do not like to be judgmental but it gets discouraging. I listened to some of the [2] Mahaney’s talks on modesty and they suggest speaking lovingly to Christian girls and women who dress immodestly but I just can’t see that working. I am sure I would feel bad if someone spoke to me. I know the point isn’t whether or not I feel bad but these things are hard to get right. I guess I am becoming an old fuddy-duddy muttering in the pew, but where will it end?

The Mahaneys are speaking about Christian music this week. As a long time listener to Glad I love reading Bob Kauflin’s stuff.

The really confusing thing is that while I am discouraged over how the girls dress at church, some families are discouraged that our boys listen to country music. Well that is discouraging, isn’t it? How could good boys raised on Bach, Handel and Haydn like country music? I admit I do like an occasional country song. I sometimes even get teary over a country song. I can be brutally sardonic but sometimes country music breaks down the barriers.

How about this?

He said,”I just climbed out of a cottonwood tree”
I was runin’ from some honey bees
Drip dryin’ in the summer breeze
After jumpin’ into Calico creek
I was walkin’ down an old dirt road
Past a field of hay that had just been mowed
Man I wish you’d just left me alone
‘Cause I was almost home

Or this?

Dear Son, I know I ain’t written,
But sittin’ here tonight, alone in the kitchen, it occurs to me,
I might not have said, so I’ll say it now:
Son, you make me proud.

I hold it up and show my buddies,
Like we ain’t scared and our boots ain’t muddy, but no one laughs,
‘Cause there ain’t nothing funny when a soldier cries.
An’ I just wipe me eyes.
I fold it up an’ put it in my shirt,
Pick up my gun an’ get back to work.
An’ it keeps me driving me on,
Waiting on letters from home.

Or this?

Remember when thirty seemed so old
Now lookn’ back it’s just a steppin’ stone
To where we are,
Where we’ve been
Said we’d do it all again
Remember when
Remember when we said when we turned gray
When the children grow up and move away
We won’t be sad, we’ll be glad
For all the life we’ve had
And we’ll remember when

The best thing about country music is that when it doesn’t make you cry it is a blast to make fun of.
I mean where else could you find Bin Laden rhymed with forgotten or hear Toby Keith say in an interview that his song, “I Love This Bar” could just as easily be, “I Love This Church.” You know the lyrics:

“lots of lookers
And I’ve even seen dancing girls and hookers”

Well, then again, maybe he’s right.