Last week I was flying solo as dad and trying to get ready while my kids watched a movie in the other room.
?
At least that’s what I thought they were doing.
When I walked in on them, I found my son watching videos of dancing routines on YouTube. The video wasn’t necessarily explicit, but it certainly was over-sexualized.
My 6-year old son looked more confused than anything else. And I could tell he felt a sense of guilt, even without knowing why.
“Daddy, was that a bad show?” He innocently asked.
My heart sank.
He’s six years old.
Six. Years. Old.
He had just dipped his tiny toe into the ocean of confusion and shame surrounding purity.
As his daddy, everything in me wanted to throw away the TV, break the internet box, smash the iPads, and burn down the house.
I’m his protector. And you can rest assured that I will do whatever it takes to protect the heart of my son.
But here’s the thing… I can’t.
Even if I moved my family to the middle of nowhere, sin would still find a way into my son’s heart.
