My children come to me each day and hand me a rainbow. They beckon me to come. The path has been paved, they know the way. We can choose to go. The chasm of popular culture, the badlands of everything-at-our-fingertips right here and right now, is there as well, every day that we wake up. It too summons us. It is seemingly effortless child's play, it can win us over and it can creep into our beds when we sleep. It pulls us in with its easy charm and fast ways, if we lose focus. Though in its apparent effortlessness, it is, in fact, an apparition, the boogieman in disguise. Meanwhile, all of these temptations reaping long-term suffering beyond our comprehension. And most inevitably, our children will bear the strain of our succumbing to seduction. In order to see beyond the blazing lights, we can only come away. Peel back the layers, protect chastity, and step away from the unbalance. We must commission our own age of innocence, lonely as it is at times, if we are to ensure the survival of our spirit. Our children's future depends on our hardiness and fortitude to stand firm in the face of such imbalance, and our mere ability to disengage in the madness. In this moment, we can hope to see beyond the fury, find our child eyes and take the sometimes seemingly rugged path of simplicity. In the outset it may feel more laborious, but unpaving a broken world will, in the end, prove more problematic. Take your child's hand when they guide you forward...the yield will be bountiful and the rainbow will indeed be generous.
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