Day 87

Deuteronomy 21–22 | John 15:18–16:15 | Psalm 37

There’s something grounding about opening the Bible to a page that’s all red letters.

Not a single speck of black ink.

Just Jesus—speaking directly to me.

And as I read John 15:18–16:15 today, it felt like He was right there beside me. Teaching. Warning. Comforting.

“Because you are not of the world… the world hates you.”

“They will put you out of the synagogues.”

“It is to your advantage that I go away…”

He wasn’t soft-pedaling anything.

He was preparing His disciples for a life of collision—where faithfulness would mean friction. Where standing with Him would mean standing out.

And as I read, I thought: This is exactly what it feels like to raise a daughter in 2025.

The Shopping Trip

A few weeks ago, Talacey took Sophia shopping for spring clothes.

And when they came home, it wasn’t with bags full of outfits. It was with eyes full of frustration.

“It’s not just hard,” Talacey told me. “It’s basically impossible to find a pair of shorts that doesn’t show her booty.”

She said it with a weary smile, trying to stay lighthearted. But I could tell it grieved her.

Because our daughter is a mere twelve.

And we are living in a culture that sexualizes children before they even know what sex is.

What used to be considered provocative is now the default. And parents who raise concerns about it—parents like Talacey and me—are labeled controlling or repressive.

But as I read Deuteronomy 22 this morning—God’s laws around sexuality, modesty, and personal boundaries—I was reminded:

God is not silent on these things.

His concern for the dignity of the body and the boundaries of sexuality is not outdated or oppressive. It’s loving. It’s protective. It reflects a holy God who designed sexuality as sacred.

And His Word doesn’t just call for external compliance. It calls for internal transformation—something no store-bought dress code can ever produce.

From Behavior to the Heart

I’m reading Age of Opportunity by Paul David Tripp right now, and it’s reshaping how I think about parenting Sophia.

The goal isn’t to control her behavior.

It’s to shepherd her heart.

I can enforce rules about how short her shorts can be (and I do).

I can ban certain stores (which I have).

I can veto outfits (which happens more often than she’d like).

But if I never help her understand why modesty matters to God, I’ve missed it.

Tripp writes that our role is to help our kids internalize truth. To guide them as they develop a worldview that prepares them for a purposeful, productive, God-honoring life—not just as a teenager, but as an adult.

And that takes more than rules. It takes relationship.

It takes conversations.

It takes grace.

It takes courage to say “no” when it would be easier to say “yes.”

And it takes wisdom to not just say “no,” but to explain why.

Not of This World

Jesus said in John 15, “Because you are not of the world… the world hates you.”

That includes the girl trying to follow Him in middle school.

That includes the mom trying to find clothes that honor her daughter’s dignity.

That includes the dad trying to raise her without speaking harshly to her or turning her heart toward rebellion.

So we’re learning. As a family. Slowly. Sometimes painfully.

We’re learning that modesty isn’t about shame—it’s about reverence. That being “not of the world” might look a little different. That our job isn’t to fit in. It’s to be faithful.

And when we mess up—as we often do and always will—we remind ourselves of Psalm 37:

“Commit your way to the Lord; trust in Him, and He will act.” (v. 5)

That’s our hope as parents. That’s our peace as believers.

What I Want for My Daughter

I don’t just want Sophia to dress modestly.

I want her to love God.

I want her to love what God loves.

To value purity—not out of fear, but out of joy.

To know that her worth doesn’t hang on fashion trends or fitting in, but on the unshakable identity she has in Christ.

And I want her to see—in me—a dad who is more concerned with her holiness than her popularity.

More invested in her character than her image.

More committed to shepherding her heart than controlling her wardrobe.

⸻

Lord, help me raise a daughter who loves You more than this world. Give me wisdom to guide her—not with rules alone, but with grace and truth. Help me model what it means to be set apart—not just in how I talk, but in how I live. And when the world presses in, help us remember what You said: that it is to our advantage You have gone, because You have sent the Helper—Your own Holy Spirit—and we are never alone. Amen.