Do you remember the days when children thought God looked down from heaven, saw who the married ladies were, and put babies in their tummies? Except for Mary, of course — Jesus was special because His real Daddy was God, not Joseph.
Until I was 12, I quite contentedly believed that scenario. When my dad died, I understood that God wouldn’t give Mom any more babies because she was a widow. And, despite having two gay relatives, I knew nothing about homosexuality until I was 18.
Looking back, I’m thankful to have been a child in such an innocent era. It breaks my heart that children today can’t have the innocence that guarded my childhood.
As early as the mid-1970s, things changed. I remember sitting in the neighborhood park during my college years, waiting for my sister to retrieve me. A boy no older than nine approached me, obviously curious about my disability. “Are you married?” he asked.
“No,” I replied as I thought longingly about that cute guy at Bible Study who would make such a wonderful husband.
Stepping closer, the little boy asked, “Do you have kids?”
I patiently responded, “I just told you I’m not married.”
Seeing my need for enlightenment, the little boy assured me, “You don’t have to be married to have a baby.”
At the time, I was shocked and saddened that such a young child would know about babies born out of wedlock. I thought back to my innocent notions, wishing that little boy could have enjoyed such sweet ideas.
Life has changed for the worse since that afternoon conversation. Society has not only exposed children to all manner of spiritual sexual immorality, but its public schools push them to affirm sexual perversions as normal and good.
A few years ago, someone told me that her three-year-old godson met his mother when she came to pick him up from preschool, greeting her with the words, “Look Mommy — I’m wearing a dress!” Horrified, his mother asked him why he was in a dress. He pointed to his teachers and claimed, “Them gave it to me!”
“Oh no,” the teachers argued, “we gave him a choice. We want our children to use costumes to express themselves.”
My friend said that her godson, if he’s not telling the truth about something, normally changes stories when he’s later asked again. But this time, he firmly stuck to his narrative that the teachers made him wear a dress. Therefore, his parents believe that the school pressured him into wearing the dress, perhaps letting him “choose” between two or three dresses.
It turns out, as I suspected it would, that this little boy attends a preschool that accepts state monies. I pretty much believe that the purpose of giving him a dress was to desensitize him, as well as the rest of the children, to transgender issues.
I wish I could say that voting for conservative politicians would turn back the clock. I hate the fact that children have to live in a world that strips them of innocence and demands that they condone things that aggressively violate God’s created order.
Come quickly Lord Jesus!