That’s the title of Andrée Seu’s latest piece over at WorldMagBlog:
There is an area in my house that, if you had a handheld radioactivity detector for spiritual intensity, would start ticking wildly as you approached. It is my daughter’s bedroom, and ground zero is a poster on her wall.
One day I had decided to go through all six rooms and dedicate them to God, asking Him to remove any defilement. (This is either madness or the creativity of the Holy Spirit.) I was inspired in part by shame over a wooden key rack in the kitchen that reads, “As for me and my house we will serve the Lord.” It has been a lie. As I lifted my head from a prostrate position, I spotted the poster, a darkly beautiful woodland scene that seems to call to ancient legends and distant flute sounds, and whose colors and mood blend seamlessly into the forest décor of the bedroom. One hardly notices at first the two mythical female faces locked in a kiss, and then, if you look closer still, a trickle of blood leaking from the corner of their mouths. |
You really ought to read the rest of it (the above excerpt is more than half of the entire article).
As a husband and father, I am challenged by her thoughts.
What music do I allow in my home?
What literature?
What radio stations?
What Web sites?
What language?
What “stuff”?
And why or why not?
And how shall I teach about it?
Many questions; few answers. 🙁