While babies across the earth warmed in their mama's insides, mine was a photograph on my fridge. She had fingernails and eyebrows and could open and close her eyes, already. She'd done so for years when her picture wasn't on my fridge. I couldn't feel her kick, but I studied that one photograph and saw the will that is often forged within the vulnerable who are fighting desperately to be invulnerable. She was still kicking.

My only parenting tactic back then was what I prayed in secret for her.

Over the past twenty years that my husband and I have been parents, we’ve tried many fun and faith-based traditions to teach our children about the real meaning of Easter. We’ve made a wooden cross to display with a spotlight in our front yard. We’ve taken our kids to a passion play that depicted the last week of Jesus’ life on earth. We’ve made crafts and done local service projects for those who were struggling financially. But one of their favorite activities—should you ask my kiddos—was making Resurrection Cookies.

I spent six weeks of one summer vacation in a driver’s education class. We memorized laws, worked through driving simulations, learned how to adjust the car mirrors, and practiced driving for hours with the big yellow “Student Driver” sticker on the back of the car. 

But I did not get even one hour of training before my daughter turned 12. 

This oversight is the parenting equivalent of handing car keys to a four-year-old. 

So now that I’m 46 and have the most precious adult daughter, I have some hard-earned wisdom to share with you. 

God has a way of divinely equipping moms for the job, doesn't He? Imagine the supermom power as a seed that grows beside an infant in womb. When that sweet baby is born into this world, the arms designed to cradle the baby work just as effectively to protect that baby. Combine beautiful, protective strength with the adrenaline that kicks, and there you have it- what is often affectionately deemed as"Mama Bear Mode."

Now, I don't know about you, but this mode is fierce for me. My husband sees that look in my eye and he begins to pity the person on the other end of whatever is about to be unleashed.

Mama Bear mode sure has gotten me into trouble before; maybe you too?

I am pretty picky about what I allow my children to read in the way of books. When it comes to Literature, I don't want my children reading twaddle -- watered down, fluffy titles that do not challenge them to think critically or creatively utilize their imagination. 

Furthermore, reading should offer a somewhat challenging angle, not just for their thinking, but also their vocabulary and problem solving skills. I cannot overestimate how much growth can occur from excellent quality literature.