When I think of nudity, I think of my children.  First, they were born that way. Second, my kids loved to run around the house naked.  Every night after dinner, we'd get our toddlers cleaned up and then strip them down in preparation for bath and bed time.  They'd run through the house with total joy and without even a hint of modesty.  When we had three boys under the age of three, we proclaimed it "Naked Nudie Boy Time."  It was a whole new Happy Hour.  It was the best part of the day and yes, that even included the occasional accident on the carpet.

Back then, I wondered a bit anxiously if they'd grow up to be Nudists. They were so free and so happy to be uncovered.  As they aged, however, they became more inhibited (like the rest of us).  By the time they reached pre-kindergarten,  Naked Nudie Boy Time was simply a memory.  They learned to keep themselves all covered up and fell in line with what everyone else was doing.  They turned in their freedom for a 36 pack of Crayolas and a backpack.


But Jesus called the children to him and said, "Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these." (Luke 18:16)

What does it really means to come to Him as a little child?  It means a lot of things, but I've just realized, it's got to also mean to come naked.  Bare it all to the one who made you.  Drop the masks, the facade, the pretense.  Just be like a little one....with nothing to hide. Naked.
I know I've hindered my children from coming, just as they are.  I've constrained them in the name of society, in the name of reputation, in the fear of "what will others think?"  I'm not just talking about nudity here anymore.  Do you feel comfortable approaching God, just as you are? And if you don't, do you think your children will?

Amber Dougherty is a 13 year old from Tyrone, PA and is suffering from Severe Intractable Epilepsy, with a sadly grim prognosis. According to an email sent by a family member, the doctors don't expect for her to be with us next Christmas. Since Amber likes to receive mail, her family is organizing a card drive so that Amber can get mail from all over.

Amber Dougherty 2766 Bald Eagle Pike Tyrone, Pa 16686

Please take a minute and send this little girl cards. Every minute that she is opening and reading a happy card is a happy minute she might not have had, otherwise.

Original email:


"My niece Amber has been fighting a severe brain disease for the past 12 years. She is coming to the end of the road. There is nothing more they can do for her. They say she probably won't make it to next christmas. She loves getting mail. We wanted to see how many cards and letters she could get and from how many different states and countries. Please send her a card of encouragement and pass this on to everyone you know. She has been life flighted 110 times and been put into 17 drug induced comas. Her name is Amber Dougherty 2766 Bald Eagle Pike Tyrone, Pa 16686. You can read about her at http://prayernet.geisinger.org Name code is damo56 . 

Please help her out and forward this to everyone in your address box. Thanks for your help."

Now appearing in the January 2010 issue of Bella Magazine

Did you date in high school? Remember what that was like? I do. I remember it going something like this. First, you noticed someone in homeroom, or while learning to square dance in gym. (Yes, kids, we actually did that.) You admired him from afar. You did the only natural thing. You had one of your friends talk to one of his friends to see if he noticed you, too. If he noticed you, you hoped he would take next step and give you a call. At home. Back then, we had no cell phones or even WhitePages.com. If he wanted to call you at home, you had to strategically make sure that he got your address so he could look up your number. If you were gifted with a last name like Smith, as I was, you found dozens of ways to mention your address as well as your father’s name (Wheeler) in casual conversation with the friend of the guy that you noticed in Spanish class. It was exhausting.

If he was interested, you’d flirt at the football game, or maybe even pass notes in the hallway. The next step usually came within days, at least back in the eighties it did. He’d call you at home and asked the magic words, “Will you go out with me?” Voila. You were a couple. That’s all it took. There were those three steps. Notice. Tell friends. Establish coupledom.

So imagine my shock to find out that the teens these days have added another whole step to the perfect pattern we perfected in the seventies, eighties and for some of you hipsters, the nineties. They no longer go from crush to dating. There’s something in between. Some thing. And I just don’t get it.

To get to the bottom of this, I played super-sleuth to uncover this new pattern for the Bella readers. I recently had breakfast with some high school juniors. In a very large part of my brain I am still feel I’m a high school Junior. Therefore, it doesn’t even feel that strange to be the only gray-haired person eating among them. I know I can hold my own in the super-hip conversation of the sixteen-year-olds. Despite the fact that I’ve had car loans longer than they’ve been alive. Despite the fact that I have voted more than a dozen elections and they are still two years from voting in their first. Despite the fact that I was there for the advent of MTV and to them, it’s just another channel on their satellite. Anyway, I was feeling my usual groovy self there at IHOP with homies. (Truth be told, I was only invited to be the shuttle service and get the teens to school in time). But I digress.

The breakfast was on the eve of the big school dance. Since I had three teenage boys going to the dance, I was anxious to know the scoop. Who was going with a date? Who was going with a friend? (Even I know that this usually denotes one person likes another but is protecting his/her ego as well as keeping his/her options open by playing the “friend” card.) I am usually hip to the lingo. Or, I can discern what the gist is, at the very least. Not this time, however.

Male and female alike kept using the word “Thing.” I would say, “Are they going out together?” and the response would be “Well, it’s A Thing.” A Thing. What? A thing sounds simply like a noun, you know, “person, place or thing.” That’s how we used the word thing back at Simsbury High School in the late seventies and early eighties. But I guess things have changed. Er, I mean, words have changed. Boy, have they.

It took thirty minutes and three napkins of notes before I figured out what A Thing actually is. You, lucky reader, can simply read for another few seconds and you’ll be too cool for school. Here’s the summary. A Thing is beyond a crush but before going out. There. It’s mutual and exclusive but there’s the tricky bit…it’s unstated. Well, unstated among the specific parties involved. High school still being high school, the people who talk about the burgeoning relationship are still those who are only peripherally involved.

Musing about this new concept of A Thing, my friend Claire referenced “Me and Mrs. Jones,” the song which was a huge hit for Billy Paul in 1972. The refrain is, “We’ve got a thing goin’ on….” Turns out, it isn’t such a new concept after all. Thus, my painful conclusion. Turns out, I’m not as cool as I think.


Pictured: Danny Byrd and his special friend, Callie

My friend Angela loves January. I am jumping on that bandwagon. I think she's got a point. January is a cool month (pardon the pun) because the expectations are very low. Pretty much we all simply expect to get through it. There are no January holidays, no special cookies to bake and exchange, no January gifts to buy, wrap, send or return. How wonderful! Happy, happy, happy January!

This year, we have the added advantage of being in a whole new decade. I heard some television personalities trying to decide one phrase to summarize the last decade. You know, like the nineties were the nineties. How do we refer back to the last ten years? The best of the lame choices was, get this, "the 0's." No, not the zeros, the "ohs." That's a stretch if you ask me. I am enthusiastically looking forward to the tens and don't really need a cutsies slogan for the o's. Is it just me?

My cousin Peter did a neat thing on Facebook. He did a personal review of the last ten years. I thought it was a great idea. His summary was something like this: "Got married, changed jobs, had a baby, changed jobs, had another baby." I was really inspired. I would follow his lead but I'm just too exhausted. Maybe in February. Will it be too late to review the o's in February?

The o's were filled with trial and triumph, love and loss, and everything in between. So for now, I am sticking with the apostle Paul who said,

"Forgetting those things which are behind, and reaching forward to those things that are ahead..." (Philippians 3:13-14)

Thank you, Lord, for a new year.