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“You’re blessed when your commitment to God provokes persecution. The persecution drives you even deeper into God’s Kingdom.” Matthew 5:10

The battle for our children’s souls rages on in today’s culture. We can thank the cowardice and scathing shallowness of mainstream and social media “communication” for continuing to erode basic human decency and spiritual virtues.

Five minutes on any network of choice or one swipe down a news feed on our smartphone illuminates a propensity for humans to embrace the very tendencies of the beast they fear. I find the irony of holding others to a character litmus test while embracing arid hatred and righteous judgment in oneself appalling. But the duplicity goes back 2,000 years. We never learn.

The ideological hypocrisy marches on. A sea of immorality and deceit tosses us to and fro, leaving us flailing on the surface gasping for clean air. But the struggle for oxygen pales in comparison to the dire responsibility for us as parents to elevate our kids above the sulfuric waves in an attempt to save them from drowning in the evil.

Unfortunately, two incidences representing the exact opposite of this duty left me slack jawed and disheartened over the weekend. The overall divisiveness of this election, the scandalous leadership choices available, and the bitter fallout sickens me to the core. But nothing rattles my soul more than observing satan pit family member against family member.

The first incident involved a young mother of two who wrote an open letter to her parents on Huffington Post. On one hand she thanked them for raising her with love and values while showering similar gifts upon her grandchildren. She then backhanded them with a denouncement of their willingness to vote for the candidate she didn’t approve of.

She called out the validity and genuineness of her parents love for her family based on a political choice. In. a. public. venue. Hence the dung storm of instant communication opportunities. No time to count to any number before rattling off a knee jerk anger impulse for the world to see.

What does this teach the mother’s impressionable children about the same lack of respect and integrity she finds lacking in said candidate? Hard to know beneath the rubble of honor your father and mother.

Putting the next story on paper slays me. Giving any energy to the egregious behavior may lack prudence, but the point begs for air time. I watched a YouTube video of a mother who packed a suitcase for her child and literally kicked him out of her home because he “voted” for the candidate she obviously disdained with every fiber of her being.

He was seven years old, people. Seven. SEVEN. No doubt cast a pretend ballot in a mock election at school. She chastised, shamed, and belittled her child to inconsolable tears while videotaping the entire episode on her smartphone. I can’t even… My blood still boils.

The anger inside of me was matched only with defcon sadness. Turning on an innocent baby – one carrying your DNA – over a make believe choice based on innocent ignorance defines despicable. Can humanity stoop any lower? Stay tuned, we’ll be astonished in no time.

And Jesus continues to weep while His people take for granted the very blessings He freely gives.

“You’re blessed when your commitment to God provokes persecution.”


Can we take five minutes to sink into Jesus’ 8th mantra on the mount?

We are blessed even when putting God first rains down acid upon our journey. What does that say for the times we don’t choose God, the moments we allow our ego to edge God out, as the late Wayne Dyer would say?

We need not look far beyond the tip of our nose to see the implications.

Not sure how any of you feel, but I can’t even fathom the consequences of edging God out while raising my precious kin in such a sin filled society. Which explains my insatiable desire to find the joy lurking around every corner, even the darkest alleys. Because God’s presence looms everywhere; everywhere.

And if my holding on to His promises showers me with pain and suffering, so be it. My only other option is dying a slow death, void of hope and anemic in love. My children then perish with me. The prospect suffocates me.

We need to seek and project wholeness on our own. Give and receive love with mindfulness one experience at a time, individual heart by individual heart. Turn away from fear and self-preservation one inhale and exhale after another. The collective conscious shifts as a result.

Unplugging from the outside world and focusing within the confines of our familial walls is step one. Peering into our neighborhood and surrounding communities, step two. Ripple by ripple we affect change from the inside out.

Persecution drives us even deeper into God’s Kingdom, making such deliberate choices for respecting human life in all definitions of the word a real possibility.

An immersion into God’s glory gives vitality to our embattled bones. The courage to Trust Him infuses peace into our veins. Opening our hearts to Him pumps life through our being. Our children glean the gifts along with us. 

We have two choices. God and Holy, ordained persecution or no God and a path of ominous footprints left in poison quicksand for our children and our children’s children to sink in.

God help us choose You.


Read more from Shelby at all of her Beatitudes for Parents below:

Why I choose To Stay Home – (6th mantra)

The Reward Of Caring – (5th mantra)

Emotional Eating Vs. Spiritual Snacking – (4th mantra)

The Importance of Self Love in Mothering – (3rd mantra)

Why Emotional Losses Mean Motherhood Gain – (2nd mantra)

To The Mom Who Is At The End Of Her Rope – (1st mantra)



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Shelby Spear

A self-described sappy soul whisperer, sarcasm aficionado, and love enthusiast, Shelby is a mom of 3 Millennials writing about motherhood and life from her empty nest. She is the co-author of the book, How Are You Feeling, Momma? (You don't need to say, "I'm fine.") , and you can find her stories in print at Guideposts, around the web at sites like Her View From Home, For Every Mom, Parenting Teens & Tweens and on her blog shelbyspear.com.

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