Where On The Continuum?

 

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Those of you that know me personally, or have been reading my blog for some time, are aware that I am a special education teacher and an independent special education consultant. I have a myriad number of friends with children that have some type of diagnosis. I grew up with an aunt with intellectual disabilities, and have a grandson on the autism spectrum. I have an online page for parents of children that have various special needs, and am co-founder of a parent networking and support group. I tell you all these things, not to give you a list of my credentials, but to let you know, when I speak about special education, it is from years of experience. My passion and drive has always been to educate an advocate for those individuals with disabilities, and their families.

I am “back in school” to get my Master’s degree in Autism Spectrum Disorders. My classes on transition, collaboration, and behavior have validated a lot of what I have thought for years. The other day, during class discussion, we were going back and forth about the “Least Restrictive Environment (LRE)” continuum. The continuum being from very restrictive, such as individuals living in an institution, to the very least restrictive, when children (with disability diagnoses) are in their general education classes with only a minimum of supports.

I read an article the other day, written by a mother of two children. One diagnosed with Down Syndrome and one not. The article discussed how she wanted her child with DS to have full inclusion. The author believes, in her opinion, that all children, regardless of (dis)ability, should have a fully inclusive experience at school.

Her article made me wonder. Do all parents feel this way? Is full inclusion really the best education, regardless of diagnosis, for all children? Is being with “typical” peers, using the same general curriculum, always the most appropriate learning for all involved? I took this topic to my online page for parents. Those that replied to the discussion, had some interesting perspectives. Parents told of their children, that are in full inclusion, getting in trouble frequently, and often requiring, but not receiving, more sensory breaks. Others talked about a mixture of “pull out” special ed classes and general ed, while others wanted their children out of the general ed classroom altogether, because their child was being bullied. This parent spoke, of feeling her child was safer in a special education classroom. I believe all these parents wished full inclusion would work, but unfortunately that often isn’t the reality. Maybe some of my readers  have children in full inclusion and it is working. I’d love to hear your stories.

Special education has come a long way since the enactment of Public Law 94-142, The Education of All Handicapped Children Act, forty-one years ago. Reauthorizations of the Individuals with Disabilities Education Act, over the last twenty-six years have created more opportunities for those students with disabilities, and their families. Before 1975, special education services were hit and miss. Some students, who desperately needed services, didn’t get anything at all. Even with all the good that has occurred since this time, there is still a long way to go……….

I am a firm believer in everyone having a voice. I believe in real collaboration, working together to form solutions that will be good for all involved. Do I expect perfection? Absolutely not. I doubt anything will ever be perfect……but, it can be better. Here are some questions I think about, not because I have all the answers, but because I think we need to think about these issues and consider the implications. In this way we (the families, student, schools) can make the best choices possible. Isn’t that what special education should be about?

  1. Is full inclusion always appropriate if a child is unable to work at their grade level? Should we alter the integrity of grade level curriculum in that classroom? Or are modifications always okay? How many accommodations/supports are too many to still be considered for full inclusion?
  2. Is having a special education teacher in the general education classroom for one or two academics, enough?  Does working with the special ed teacher, in the general ed classroom, make the child feel even more different? Is working one on one or in smaller groups in a special ed. classroom, wrong?
  3. What about all the non-academic activities? Some students have difficulty during unstructured times. Some students require more sensory breaks. Some students require a person to teach them and daily practice with them, social skills.
  4. Is is right to expect a general education teacher (who might have only had to take one or two special ed. classes to get their degree) to understand a myriad number of disabilities their students could have? Can we expect them to be proactive instead of reactive in their classroom behavior management? Is it fair and equitable to treat all the children the same? Does fair always mean equal?
  5. How do we keep students from being unkind to each other? Do we talk about a student’s disability to the class? In order to help the class understand “why” a student might act the way he/she does?
  6. Should the student who has a severe intellectual disability, be subjected to taking standardized tests at their grade level? (For example, should a fourteen year old with the cognitive ability of a toddler be expected to take an eighth grade test? And if so, why? How will the results even be close to any kind of accuracy?)
  7. Should a teenager with high functioning autism have less supports in his general ed classes, because he “doesn’t look like he has autism” and “we don’t want him labeled”?
  8. Is overlooking a student’s true needs, an inherent danger in inclusion, because sometimes a student doesn’t “look” like he/she needs special ed services/supports? (whatever that is supposed to mean)
  9. If/When do the rights of a child with special needs carry more weight, than a child who does not have special needs?
  10. Are we making decisions now that will ultimately benefit the student after he/she graduates? Shouldn’t all of school be preparation for life after graduation? Especially, with teenagers, how to we make sure our children will have a smooth transition?

Blog readers, what do you think? I would be interested to hear your opinions, your experiences……

 

 

He Won’t Go Alone

I had opportunity last week to spend some one on one time with my 18 year old son. Lately, those moments have been few and far between, as life has a way of hurrying us along. The days turn into weeks and this mom is left with the sands of time streaming through her fingers.

While in the car, my son looked at me and said, “You know these next few months are the last months that you will see me on a consistent, regular basis. Soon I will be away at college, working, eventually on my own.” Words from an 18 year old excited as he looks to his future. Words that sear his mother’s heart. He is right, not much time left. Life is changing.

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He is more man than boy. I remember when he was a young toddler imagining what he would look like at age 5. I recall being surprised when he turned 13, not knowing how that much time had passed. Now, as a young adult, I have a mixture of love and pride in seeing who he has become.

As his mom, I will always love him, but it is my responsibility to loosen my grip, as difficult as it is, and let him go.

But, he won’t go alone.

He is a child of the King, the One who loves him and knows him intimately. The One I can trust and believe when He says He will never leave my son nor forsake him. A mother’s love is strong, but the love of The Father is deeper and everlasting and nothing can separate us from His love. Not ever. No matter where life takes us.

This is true if one is 18 and just starting out, or a mother who is learning to let go.

38 And I am convinced that nothing can ever separate us from God’s love. Neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither our fears for today nor our worries about tomorrow—not even the powers of hell can separate us from God’s love. 39 No power in the sky above or in the earth below—indeed, nothing in all creation will ever be able to separate us from the love of God that is revealed in Christ Jesus our Lord.        Romans 8 NIV

And that is something to be thankful for…..

 

I’m Blaming Hormones…Because I Can

For those of you that read my blog regularly, you know that yesterday was the pits for me. I’m happy to say, today has been much better. I really need to credit my husband. Now, he probably would not fully appreciate my undying affection splayed out all over the internet…but, that is not going to stop me. After all, day in and day out we hear all the hard, gritty stuff of life and the good stuff doesn’t get talked about as much. Today I am going to counter balance yesterday’s grumpy moodiness with today’s happier, more uplifting note.

First things first. I love my husband. I really do. He’s not perfect, because Lord knows if he were, he would not be with me! I am not perfect, not even close. My husband does balance me. I was swimming around in my moody muck last night, threatening sack cloth and ashes, and loud wailing. It was not pretty. He smiled at me and said something to the effect of “it’s not that bad”. I momentarily thought of throwing a flip flop at him….but, I chose the higher moral ground and decided that assault by flip flop is NOT what a loving wife would do. So, instead I listened to him. He remained calm during my emotional thunderstorm. It made me love him even more. Then he said, “I think we need to go out”. I agreed. We had a nice dinner and an even better conversation. Nothing like Mexican food to calm the inner beast, or the psychotic wife. Just saying.

He could have reacted differently to my bad mood. I wouldn’t have blamed him. Well…..okay, I might have blamed him because that was the frame of mind I was in, but he ignored the mess he married and made the choice to love me despite my flaws. He is really good that way and I sure do appreciate that about him.

Now, there will be days when I get to return the favor…. days when he is having it rough. We all ride this roller coaster of life with its ups and downs, and we are no exception. My mom always used to say, “Just remember, this too shall pass.” I think my husband and my mom must have been cut from the same cloth…..and lucky them, they both get to deal with me:)

Seriously, I’m not that horrible. Most of the time.

I’m blaming hormones…because I’m a woman, and I can.                                                    wedding

Two are better than one,
    because they have a good return for their labor:
10 If either of them falls down,
    one can help the other up.
But pity anyone who falls
    and has no one to help them up.
11 Also, if two lie down together, they will keep warm.
    But how can one keep warm alone?
12 Though one may be overpowered,
    two can defend themselves.
A cord of three strands is not quickly broken.   —Ecclesiastes 4

 

Stay With Me

The Gypsy Mama

1. Write for 5 minutes flat – no editing, no over thinking, no backtracking.
2. Link back here and invite others to join in.
3. And then absolutely, no ifs, ands or buts about it, you need to visit the person who linked up before you & encourage them in their comments. Seriously. That is, like, the rule. And the fun. And the heart of this community..

Oh and Ahem, if you would take pity and turn off comment verification, it would make leaving some love on your post that much easier for folks!

OK, are you ready? Please give us your best five minutes on:::

Stay…

Time flows like white water rapids….fast, churning, sometimes exhilarating, sometimes terrifying. Never slowing down–never staying the same.

Oh, how I wish it would stay. I wish I could just blink my eyes and time would stand still.

amber sunrise

amber sunrise (Photo credit: harold.lloyd)

Stay with me, feelings of first love.

Stay with me, little boy with the dimpled hands, and toothless smile.

Stay with me, storybook time and sweet hugs.

Stay with me, birthday party surprise and friend’s smiling faces.

Stay with me, travels to places near and far.

Stay with me, parent that is now aging.

Stay with me, priceless memories.

Stay with me, young woman that said, “I do”.

Stay with me….

Stay.

 

 

I Am Thankful

English: Dairy Queen "restaurant." R...

Kids growing up. Teens and young adult. Cutting strings. Breaking away.

To fly….. Or fall. To hope or heave. To wonder and to wander.

The days can seem so long sometimes…but the weeks slide through my fingers, my grip attempting to hold tightly to the sand of time.

Time is a blessing, but it can also ache a mother’s heart.

I am thankful for motherhood. This job. This responsibility. Duty. Privilege. All these things.

It’s made me see the world in a different way. A way I could not have known before.

Laughing. Crying. Proud. Infuriated. Sobbing and serious. Giggles and groans.

And memories….aahhhh…..the memories. There is nothing quite like a mother’s memory…..not when it comes to her children.

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Today I am thankful for:

* a son that is at his first “real” job, I’m so proud of him

* another son that graduated, I’m thrilled for him!

* a daughter, who is my thinker

* stops at Dairy Queen

* women warrior princesses

* boys who don’t always comb their hair

* bottomless pit stomachs

* popsicles

* never getting to drive my own vehicle anymore

* long legs and being able to reach the top shelf for mom

* sports

* reading

* computer whiz kids

* playing with the dogs

* singing

* camps

* and HUGS

Children are a gift from the LORD; they are a reward from him. Psalm 127:3  NLT

Bound In Love

We met through words, typed on a keyboard.

Laughing. Joking. Discussing.

Getting to know each other at a distance…

before meeting face to face. A little unsure of the unknown. Wondering. Waiting.

I had already buried my first husband, of eight years, and was several years into my journey of widowhood.

I was single mom to a son that filled my days with both laughter and tears.

Aren’t little boys like that? And don’t they steal their mother’s heart with their very first gaze?

I thank God for the gift of him.

And now, a new man was vying for my attention. And how did I feel? And what did I know?

And isn’t God here, in this?

Him…creating the tapestry of what will be, from the what once was?

Knitting together the new from both hearts that understood.

And aren’t memories, and emotion, and joy and sorrow apart of it?

His life before me, with a woman I never met…

who died too young and left her grieving husband filled with the emptiness of what will never be.

Children left with memories of yesterdays, that will never be their tomorrows.

Me, at thirty-seven. Waiting. Not in a hurry. Learning to trust in God’s timing.

Because isn’t that always the way it should be?

And didn’t my Heavenly Father know that I love men with mustaches? Who are computer wizards and can play a mean game of Boggle?

And isn’t it wonderful that He gave me this man, who is strong when I am broken? And loves me in spite of myself?

Am I not grateful that he needs me to love him when he is being unlovable? And will listen to him when the world is to busy to hear?

Sometimes I think about life, much like that tapestry I mentioned.

Stitching each day together. Life all mixed up in the quilt of many colors. Sewn together with past, present, and future.

Bound with love.

Always, love.

Wait for the LORD; be strong and take heart and wait for the LORD. Psalm 27:14  NIV

Above all, love each other deeply, because love covers over a multitude of sins.  1 Peter 4:8  NIV

In The Still Of The Evening…

Front porch

Image via Wikipedia

Last night I was sitting on the front porch with my husband. Like many married couples, we were talking about everything and nothing in particular. I for one, was thankful that the sun was getting ready to slip under the horizon, making it much cooler than it had been earlier in the day. It was quiet in our little piece of the world, except for the sound of the birds chirping in the fields and an occasional vehicle driving down our country road.   I pondered the fact that life is much different for me now. I never thought that I’d be sitting on the front porch of a home in the country.

As a high school student, I couldn’t wait to go away to college and “recreate” myself. As a college graduate I couldn’t wait to start my new career and have my own place. As a teacher I couldn’t wait to meet my new students and make a positive difference.  As a new wife I couldn’t wait to spend time with my husband, creating our life together. As a young wife, I couldn’t wait until we bought our own house for our family to make memories in. As a new mom, I couldn’t wait to hold my son, love him, and be thrilled with each new step.

As a new widow, I couldn’t wait for the sadness to end, and life to return to some sort of normal. As a single parent, I couldn’t wait to cheer at soccer games, plan birthday parties and go on vacations out West. As a thirty-something, I couldn’t wait for the opportunity to meet someone who would want to share life with me. As a newly remarried woman, I couldn’t wait to figure out how this blended family would work.

Always waiting….

So much of life is spent waiting, isn’t it? Your waiting might be, and probably is, different than my waiting. Life requires waiting.

Waiting for something new. Something different. Something better. Something comfortable. Something real. Something exciting.

Always waiting….

Waiting can bring new life, if I am patient. It has in the past…and it will again in the future.

This season of life has me both waiting and wondering. What will be next?

It is both scary and beautiful, all at the same time. On days when I am weary from worry, grieving from growing, pondering over patience, and just plain wondering, I remind myself that I am not the one in control. I never have been, and that is okay.

Those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.  Isaiah 40:31  NIV

 

 

 

 

 

Praise The LORD!

Sunlight through Window

Image by Michael S. via Flickr

The  sun shines in the front kitchen windows.

I feel it warm on my back as I sit at the counter.

Early morning. A new day. A new week.

Ripe with promise. Possibilities.

Praising the Lord. In all things.

* A better nights sleep

* Bright morning sunshine

* Family

* Dog‘s tail wagging so hard, his whole body sways back and forth

* Cat follows me out to the kitchen

* Mother’s Day cards propped on the dining room table

* Sweet words that touch my soul

* Faded, aged kitchen linens that were my grandmother’s

* My child writing “promise” on the eucharisteo board

* Expecting a book in the mail

* A phone call with an old friend

* A sister who drives my mom into the city

* For gifted doctors

* For strength in the midst of uncertainty

* For God‘s reassurance that He is always here with us

* Enjoying this Monday, because I am able…because I can

Enter his gates with thanksgiving and his courts with praise; give thanks to him and praise his name.  Psalm 100:4  NIV

Won’t you join us, and list your gifts?

M is for Mommy

A pregnant woman

Image via Wikipedia

Mother. Mommy. Mom. Mama. Mum.  The names of  motherhood.

Being a mom—A job. A privilege. A calling. An adventure.

Sometimes scary, sometimes funny. Other times sad, most of the time, happy.

Loving a child, changes one forever.

I decided to pull some motherhood posts from my archives….because they are just as relevant today as they were when I first wrote them.

“Lately, I’ve been thinking about what it means to be a mom. I’ve been a mom for almost 16 years now. You’d think after that period of time I’d have everything under control, right? Neatly checking things off my to do list. I suppose I am feeling a little sorry for myself. Umm…… Most days I feel like the BEFORE picture in one of those before/after photo shoots. I wish I could be the AFTER. The mom that has it all together. The one who doesn’t ever worry about a dirty house, teen drivers, late schoolwork, attitudes, boredom, muddy floors, pet fur, or laziness.

I’m not mentally ill. I do understand the difference between fantasy and reality. But, a mom can dream…can’t she?

I must get like this each year. Check out my blog from last January at this time….. My own words come back to remind me that motherhood is a crazy ride, but I’m holding the hand of the One that holds the future–and that makes all the difference.

THE MIRACLES IN THE MUNDANE OF MOTHERHOOD

Motherhood. In my naivete’,I just knew that I’d have it covered. Puh-leeze!  I could do this….after all I KNEW children. I took Child Development classes in high school. I babysat. I majored in special education in college and took myriad number of COLLEGE level courses on the child psyche. If anyone could do this it was me. Supermom at your service. For sure.

Then reality hit. When I say “hit” I mean kind of like a baseball bat. To the head. Ouch.

I had my son in May of 1995. Just 2 days after my 27th birthday. My pregnancy went well except for the 6 week stint of barfing. Morning sickness AND evening sickness. Brushing my teeth even made me gag, but I was a trooper. I was determined to be with child AND have a bright white smile and fresh breath. So, I carried on.

My son was born 2 1/2 weeks early according to the doctors. I blame it on the fact that the evening before he was born we had a tornado in Knoxville, Tennessee. The barometric pressure dropped and I think it messed with my uterus. I’m just sayin’. Except for being born with a little jaundice, which to be honest I thought looked like a nice tan, the delivery went well  and my son was beautiful. Of course I had an epidural so there wasn’t much pain…just a lot of pushing. My husband was a big help and to give the man credit…he put up with a lot. (the fact that I had back labor before getting the epidural—well, that is another story.)

Now, at this point I was exhausted but happy. My son is a joy. I’m happy. He’s happy. My husband’s happy. We’re all happy. Then it hit. Reality. My epidural wore off and I was sore like I had never felt sore before. After several hours I decided I could get up and use the restroom. The nurse told me she would have to go with me. I told her I was a shy pee’er and I wouldn’t be able to go if she was in the bathroom. I tried to convince her I’d been peeing my whole life, and at 27 I had the procedure down pat. She told me I could pass out because of something to do with the epidural having worn off, blah..blah…. I told her that was silly. She finally agreed to stand at the other side of the door, with the door cracked open. I grudgingly agreed and went to sit down when, yes you guessed it, I started to black out. The nurse caught me just before I cracked my head on the bathroom floor. I vaguely remembered her yelling for ammonia…and my husband in a confused state asking why she wanted to clean the bathroom? This is my life. I should have known that I had just embarked on a journey that was NOT going to be a piece of cake. Only a few hours into motherhood and I was already passing out.

The next few years consisted of me listening to my little one struggle to breathe when he got bronchitis. Staying up all night and staring at his chest. Watching it heave up and down. Knowing that his tiny body was so fragile…yet, so resilient. After that scary time, it never happened again. Thank you Jesus. Then at 2 and 1/2 he was with his father, outside, when he decided that he’d get on the picnic table. He fell and cut his head on the seat of the table on the way down. Head wounds. Lots of blood. A father in panic mode. A trip to the doctors office. Stitches. I came home from work that day to find my handsome son looking like he had just took a few rounds in the boxing ring. Bruised with stitches marching just above his eyebrow. So attractive, and just in time for his preschool picture day!  That following Easter we decorated Easter eggs. Fun stuff. I made the mistake of telling my toddler that we would eventually eat the hard boiled eggs. One evening he got into the fridge when I was on the phone and preceded to eat the egg with the shell still on it. He came into the living room a few minutes later. His face, teeth, tongue and hands, all a nice pastel shade of blue. I began to freak out thinking that my baby was exhibiting symptoms of some rare disease. Until, he informed me, “Mommy, the Easter egg is good.” At that, I burst into giggles and attempted to scrub my little Smurf back to his normal skin tone as I explained that egg shells are not the part of the egg that we eat, even if it did look pretty at the time.

Over the years there were the good times and the difficult times. Bedtime stories, hugs and sloppy kisses, birthday parties. Lots of laughter and tears. Family vacations, and him holding my hand. Church choir, camps, video games, and silliness. Those of you that have sons know what I’m talking about.

When my little boy was 4 his father, my husband, was diagnosed with an incurable heart disease. He died a mere year and four months later. You can imagine the sadness. We had only just started and it was over. Just like that. Standing at my husbands grave, that cold gray day in November 2000…I felt a little hand grab mine. A little voice coming out of the body of a 5 year old, but seeming so much older and wiser said, “Mommy, don’t cry. This is only Daddy’s body here. Daddy is in Heaven with God.”  God spoke to me that day through my son. He wanted me to remember the promise of  John 11:25 “I am the resurrection and the  life. He that believes in Me, though he dies, yet shall he live.”  That day I was reminded that out of the mouths of children can come great wisdom.

The next five years were filled with normal life kinds of things. Church, school, vacations out  West, family get togethers, sleep overs at friends houses, spelling tests, and math homework, goofiness and seriousness. All of life in a big jumble. We were doing okay….me and my sidekick.

After 5 years of widowhood God brought another man into my life. A man that understood what I had gone through. Our experiences were similar. He had lost his wife a few years before. We were kindred spirits. No one wants to join The Widow/er Club, but death doesn’t ask if one wants membership. It just gives it to you.

We married in 2005. Along with this marriage I got another son and two daughters. Just as I thought I had the whole being a mom thing under control…. then reality hit. AGAIN. These children had lost their mother. My heart broke for them, just as it had for my own son at the loss of his Daddy. How does one be a mom #2?  There is no manual for it. Believe me, if there were one I would have read it. A LOT. How does one mother the motherless? I wasn’t sure how this would happen. What do I say? How do I act? What if they don’t bond with me? What if they hate my guts?  Then what?  God, in His infinite wisdom spoke to my heart.

“LOVE THEM. ADOPT THEM IN YOUR HEART. THAT IS ALL YOU NEED TO DO.  Dawn, you are my adopted child. I bought you for a price. You were redeemed and now you are mine. I love you because I choose too. Do the same for them. They need a mother’s love…not to take the place of the mother that they had….but, to show them that I am God and I will take care of them. I am their provider.”

You know what? God is good. All the time. Even in motherhood. Even in widowhood. Even in life. Even in death. Even in trauma. Even in calm. Through bloody noses, or skinned knees, through arguments, and “it’s not fair!”. Through hugs and kisses, school and projects. He remains good when I’m having a great day or when I’ve just been awarded “the worst mom of the year award.”

I like to believe that I am much wiser than I was back in my twenties. When I thought I had motherhood all figured out. When I had my own motherhood map all planned. Motherhood is messy, and chaotic, and fun, and sometimes broken. I am thankful in the midst of all my mom mess-ups that I am holding the hand of the One who promised me that He has a plan for me and a future with hope. A-men.”

11 For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. 12 Then you will call on me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you. 13 You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart.”   Jeremiah 29: 11-13 NIV


At Faith Barista we are talking about moms and motherhood today. Won’t you join us?


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What Is My Worth?

Our Kitchen Counter

Image by Josh Michtom via Flickr

The morning is quiet.

Time to think…before the day begins

I prepare breakfast.

Pour coffee

Wipe down counters

Notice the fur bunnies that need to be swept

See the explosion in the microwave, that needs to be cleaned

Remember an activity the kids want to attend

Remind children of school work that needs completed

There is laundry to wash before a trip

The big and little things that make up the life of a mom

My life

Sometimes the day to day is overwhelming….other days I am bored.

I look in the mirror.

I wonder what my life is worth?

On days when I don’t feel like what I do is exciting, or interesting…

When I feel trapped in the mundane

I am reminded of what I am truly worth to the One that loves me beyond measure.

It is WHO I know that gives me value.

It is WHAT I know about Him that brings me worth.

It is WHERE I go that fills me.

It is WHEN I go that humbles me.

It is WHY I go

To live……

 

New International Version (©1984) Luke 12:24
Consider the ravens: They do not sow or reap, they have no storeroom or barn; yet God feeds them. And how much more valuable you are than birds!

New International Version (©1984) Hebrews 11:26
He regarded disgrace for the sake of Christ as of greater value than the treasures of Egypt, because he was looking ahead to his reward.

3 Your beauty should not come from outward adornment, such as elaborate hairstyles and the wearing of gold jewelry or fine clothes. 4 Rather, it should be that of your inner self, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is of great worth in God’s sight. I Peter 3: 3-4 NIV