Monday, February 10, 2014

A letter to Lana. Where are you the most beautiful?

I read this article this week, and I want to save it, for Lana.  and for me.  for all the daughters, really.


Dear Little One,

As I write this, I’m sitting in the makeup aisle of our local Target store. A friend recently texted me from a different makeup aisle and told me it felt like one of the most oppressive places in the world. I wanted to find out what he meant.
And now that I’m sitting here, I’m beginning to agree with him. Words have power, and the words on display in this aisle have a deep power. Words and phrases like:

Affordably gorgeous,
Infallible,
Flawless finish,
Brilliant strength,
Liquid power,
Go nude,
Age defying,
Instant age rewind,
Choose your dream,
Nearly naked, and
Natural beauty.
When you have a daughter you start to realize she’s just as strong as everyone else in the house—a force to be reckoned with, a soul on fire with the same life and gifts and passions as any man. But sitting in this store aisle, you also begin to realize most people won’t see her that way. They’ll see her as a pretty face and a body to enjoy. And they’ll tell her she has to look a certain way to have any worth or influence.
But words do have power and maybe, just maybe, the words of a father can begin to compete with the words of the world. Maybe a father’s words can deliver his daughter through this gauntlet of institutionalized shame and into a deep, unshakeable sense of her own worthiness and beauty.
A father’s words aren’t different words, but they are words with a radically different meaning:
Brilliant strength. May your strength be not in your fingernails but in your heart. May you discern in your center who you are, and then may you fearfully but tenaciously live it out in the world.
Choose your dream. But not from a department store shelf. Find the still-quiet place within you. A real dream has been planted there. Discover what you want to do in the world. And when you have chosen, may you faithfully pursue it, with integrity and with hope.
Naked. The world wants you to take your clothes off. Please keep them on. But take your gloves off. Pull no punches. Say what is in your heart. Be vulnerable. Embrace risk. Love a world that barely knows what it means to love itself. Do so nakedly. Openly. With abandon.
Infallible. May you be constantly, infallibly aware that infallibility doesn’t exist. It’s an illusion created by people interested in your wallet. If you choose to seek perfection, may it be in an infallible grace—for yourself, and for everyone around you.
Age defying. Your skin will wrinkle and your youth will fade, but your soul is ageless. It will always know how to play and how to enjoy and how to revel in this one-chance life. May you always defiantly resist the aging of your spirit.
Flawless finish. Your finish has nothing to do with how your face looks today and everything to do with how your life looks on your last day. May your years be a preparation for that day. May you be aged by grace, may you grow in wisdom, and may your love become big enough to embrace all people. May your flawless finish be a peaceful embrace of the end and the unknown that follows, and may it thus be a gift to everyone who cherishes you.
Little One, you love everything pink and frilly and I will surely understand if someday makeup is important to you. But I pray three words will remain more important to you—the last three words you say every night, when I ask the question: “Where are you the most beautiful?” Three words so bright no concealer can cover them.
Where are you the most beautiful?
On the inside.
From my heart to yours,
Daddy

Round here.

My beloved Macbook is almost done.  It will no longer let me add any pictures, open up my mail, or connect to the internet.  It's about a decade old, and has taken several hard hits to the floor - it was bound to happen sometime.  We are working right now to get all of my (10,000+) pictures saved to a hard drive before it's too late.  We are also saving for an iMac.  Until then, there will be no new pictures, which means very few blog posts.

In the meantime, here's what's going on around here:

Lana is beginning to grasp the ideas of multiplication and division.  It's fun to see her brain figuring it out.

Tucker still calls mushrooms "marshmallows."  I won't let anyone correct him.

Tucker went in the jumpy house full speed ahead at Carson & Hayden's birthday party.  This is the first time he hasn't cried and insisted we go with him.

Lana's horse stepped on her foot at lessons this weekend.  She was so tough - kept right on going.  Later she told me she put her head down and cried "just a little, really quick."

I heard a new song on country radio (my guilty pleasure), and the lyrics said I feel like the frame that gets to hold the Mona Lisa, and I don't care if that's all I ever do.  That's exactly how I feel about my babies, and getting to be their mommy.

Tucker is going to play tball this spring.  The thought of that cute bootie in baseball pants makes me swoon.

Our dryer died this week, and we are almost out of clean underwear.  We're going to have a problem if we don't figure out how to fix it soon.

During the big ice storm a couple of weeks ago, I realized we probably should get some firewood in case we lost power.  We've never bought firewood, so I asked on facebook.  Within an hour, dear friends from our church delivered a stack to our door.  That wood makes me smile every time I look at it.

Dan burned his finger making a fire, and lavender oil healed it nearly instantly.  And I had a stuffy nose from the heat running nonstop, so I rubbed a drop on the bridge of my nose, and immediately everything started loosening up and I could breathe.  That stuff is magic.

The winter olympics are going on right now, and I wish we could sit on the couch and watch them nonstop.  Team Davis loves the Olympics.

Blue Bell has this new flavor for a limited time, and we are eating obscene amounts of it.

February is the month of love around here, and the kids are loving our celebration this year.  A friend made oversized felt envelopes, and I've tied them onto their chairs at our table with ribbon.  Each morning, there is a love note and a treat waiting.

We have been married 11 1/2 years, and my favorite way to fall asleep still is holding hands.  Nothing makes me feel safer or more comfortable.  That's the good life, ya'll.

Dan spent all day Saturday at church, working on some renovations to the student building.  There were 3 other men and their sons there working - from 8 a.m. to after 5 p.m.  So grateful for that.

After working 12+ hour days most of the week, including Saturday and Sunday, Dan stayed up until almost midnight helping me clean the house tonight so I didn't have to do it alone tomorrow.  He's a treasure.