Children as young as five are learning about things I didn’t learn about until at least high school. The sweet window of a child’s innocence keeps getting smaller and smaller. 

There’s no denying modern technology hastens the loss of their innocence, but now that millions of children are being homeschooled for the first time, I wonder if might stave it off a bit longer. What parent doesn’t want to shield their child from this world’s ugliness as long as they can?

I remember my first day of high school. I was thirteen. Our homeroom teacher started with an ice-breaker question. She asked us (in alphabetical order) to describe ourselves with an adjective starting with the first letter of our last name. 

I was the first “H.” My maiden name was Huber, the last name of the girl sitting next to me was Huebler. “I’m going to use ‘happy,’” she whispered. “So think of something different for yourself.”

And honestly, I did try to think of something different, but my turn came around too soon and I froze up and quietly answered, “Happy. I’m happy.”

I got a murderous glance from Huebler, forcing her to think fast for a different adjective. “Horror,” she finally answered. “I am a horror.” 

The room erupted in laughter. Boys asked for her phone number

I couldn’t fathom why she got the response she did.

At dinner that night, I asked my parents, “Why would people laugh at me if I described myself as a ‘horror?’”

My older brother howled. 

My parents looked on the verge of laughter, too. But they knew I was genuinely clueless and finally answered, “Because a whore is a woman of ill-repute.”

Ill-repute? What in the heck was a woman of ill-repute?

My dad asked, “What would make you even think of describing yourself that way?”

I told them what had happened in homeroom, how we had to use an adjective that started with the first letter of our last name to describe ourselves. How I stole the adjective from the girl next to me. How everyone laughed at her when she said she was a horror. That boys started asking her for her phone number.

They ended up having to explain what a “woman of ill-repute” was, and I was sorry I asked. It made me feel sick and sad. It made me sick that all those boys were asking for her phone number and sad to think there were girls out there who did that stuff to get them that awful moniker. 

A chunk of innocence lost, and as I got older more and more of that innocence got chipped away.

Remember the Sunday school song, “Be careful little eyes you see.. little ears what you hear…little hands what you do…little feet where you go…little heart whom you trust?” Once something is seen, heard, said, or done, it can’t be undone. Guilt and shame can immobilize us, but the “Father up above…looking down in love” provided a way to wash away that guilt and shame— His name is Jesus. “Behold the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world!” John 1:29

                          “With His blood Has has saved me, with His power He has raised me—

                                    To God be the glory, for the things He has done.”

                                                                                                              —from “My Tribute”

I think one of the saddest consequences of the original sin was the introduction of self-consciousness. When Adam and Eve ate the forbidden fruit they went from joyfully flitting around the Garden of Eden to being mortified they were naked. How sad to go from having a completely free conscience to being shamefully self-conscious.

The curse of self-consciousness has had a greater hold on me than most. I’ve always admired those who display the least self-awareness. How freeing not to care what other people think! As a teenager, I remember a man at church who belted out hymns with total abandon—in spite of the fact that he had a terrible, tone deaf voice. People like him—who care more about what God thinks than what people think—don’t allow criticism or derision deter them in the least.

Sadly, I haven’t been too successful at not caring what other people think of me. It’s held me back from speaking up boldly about my faith and reaching out to others for fear of being rejected.

My entire family is (or was) musically gifted, with me being the sole exception. Maybe, had I not been so self-conscious, I could have learned to play something or sing in key (but I highly doubt it, as I think it’s a God given gift). I can actually pinpoint the exact moment in time when even the idea of trying to acquire an ear for music was put to rest. 

I was a teenager and we were driving home from church one Easter Sunday. I remember feeling overwhelmed with love for Jesus and what He did for us, the sweet hymns we’d sung still resonating in my mind. And then, inexplicably, I screeched out, "He could have called 10,000 angels!" 

The car literally rocked with laughter. I wasn't at all surprised that my brothers were laughing at me— but my mom was doubled over with laughter, too. Shockingly enough, even my dad was laughing. I don’t remember my dad ever laughing at me. I immediately started crying. But even my tears didn't serve to stifle my mom's laughter. When she was finally able to catch her breath, she tried to assure me (amid fresh bouts of laughter) that it wasn't that it was bad singing, it was just the incredibly high notes I’d hit that had spawned all the hilarity. Whatever. I haven't tried to belt out a note since. 

In a recent sermon (lots of time to listen to sermons these days), the pastor said that self-consciousness is really just a pre-occupation with me, myself and I. Ouch!

Eugene Peterson defined worship as interrupting our preoccupation with ourselves. The less self-conscious we become the more God-conscious we become. It’s the reason worship feels so good—feels so right. (I couldn’t find the exact quote, but that’s the gist of it). 

In these unprecedented times we need an awareness of God’s presence more than ever. And I’m seeing it! So many inspiring stories of people shrugging off their “me, myself and I” attitude and leaning in to reach out to others in any way they can. 

Another silver lining is seeing the humor people are finding in these "lock down" days. There are dozens of examples, but one of my favorites was, “And just like that, prayer and spanking are back in schools.” 

I was blessed to grow up in a family who found humor in even the worst of circumstances—because we know the God who holds our future. And let’s face it—knowing there’s a happy ending allows us to live our story with a lot more levity and laughter.