You know you're a good girl if you put "Make a to-do list" on your to-do list.
"You might be a good girl if" statements started showing up daily for about a week and each pinned me with a dart to the heart into the center of the boundaries, and I learned something new about myself. Not that I'm a good girl — I knew that long ago.
But that I have been desperate to raise good girls.
I have two.
And for the most part they are, but that other part? Yeah, I've gathered a few gray hairs over that small part. The good girl in me is obsessing over the parts of my girls that boldly go where I never went.
I've got to let it go:
- uncage these girls to know God's grace more intimately than my restrictions and expectations.
- foster the desire to please God above all others.
- release them to the reckless abandon they seem bent to that I know little of.
I mostly walked the straight and narrow because of fear. I was compliant — not from love, but from fear of consequences, fear of the unknown, fear of angry discipline and the let-down in their eyes.
I don't see this in my daughters.
Instead I see daring, wide-open, unhinged desire to take on life without reservation. Yet that has not stopped me from trying to mold them into my image.
All these years I've thought that giving them a good-girl take on life would set them free:
- from possible regret.
- from possible failure.
- from a whole host of things I've never been willing to risk, even though they might possibly turn out great.
I don't need to read this book for me. Rather, I'll read this book looking for the way a good girl raises daughters that are bent toward courage.
Tomorrow, we three will take our copy of Grace for the Good Girl and head to Charlotte for a day of shopping, then stop in on the author at the nest. Maybe these two chick-a-dees can teach their mother-hen a thing or two about adventure and flying fee into unfamiliar places.