"If?" Jesus says. "There are no 'ifs' among believers. Anything can happen" (v. 23). To which the father responds, "Then I believe. Help me with my doubts!" (v. 24).

You can show your daughter that God understands the questions and the doubts and will help her through them. If you don't, if you're shocked by anything but an at-all-times-unshakable faith, one of two things is likely to happen: She's going to interpret that to mean that having doubts makes her a bad person, so she might as well give up on Christianity-and she will as soon as she's out of the house.

She'll shove her doubts and questions under the rug and know only a rigid version of "faith" that keeps God and joy at a distance.

"My mom has taught me all about God and his Word. Even things she doesn't say I have learned from her. Like listening to God."

age 10.

Is it necessary to say that both you and God want something more for your precious angel-child?

Test Your Own Waters.

Before we move on to forming a plan for putting that into action, let's take a few minutes to look at you and where you are in being your true self. This is not a matter of determining that you're a fraudulent mess so how can you possibly teach your daughter the first thing about being real. I actually think it's more about discovering how genuine you really are, and how much you have to offer your resident mini-woman. I know that I am constantly surprised at how "myself" I've become when I wasn't looking, and I suspect you'll find out much the same thing. This is affirmation, ladies, not condemnation. (Not with me having this rather large beam in my eye...) I know you probably don't have time to write out answers to essay questions. But at the same time, I don't want to give you one of those magazine-style quizzes where you pick a, b, or c and read a paragraph that tells you what kind of friend, mother, cook, or Christian you are. This is about not putting yourself into some artificial slot, right? So-I've simply provided you with some things to think about. They can become part of your quiet time with God (you have managed to carve some into your day, yes?). If you're a journaler, these might be topics. Or you could simply ponder them while you're waiting for your daughter to get out of soccer practice, piano lessons, play rehearsal-you know, instead of catching up on your phone calls. If you're the quintessential extrovert who doesn't know exactly what she thinks until it comes out of her mouth (I often fall into that category myself), you could use these as discussion starters with other moms you trust. However you approach them, I hope they'll lead you to a clear awareness of the part your trueness plays in the raising of your tween daughter.

Do you believe that women have a special wisdom when it comes to their children? That they instinctively know who their daughters are-even if that's not who they want them to be? Do you know that wisdom is inside you, providing the strength and power you need to raise your daughter authentically? No matter what anybody else is telling you, do you know that?

Are you using that wisdom with your daughter? Are you accepting who she is-or are you trying to shape her into who you think she needs to be in order to do well in this world? Do you know her natural personality is going to make it hard for her to fit in, and so you're trying to change her to make her life easier? Or are you looking for ways to help her be who she is and still find a sense of belonging?

Do you take time to cultivate your own interests? Do you make space in your schedule so you can have quiet moments with God? Do you insist on respect for who you are? Or are you always, always available to fill every request? Do you put one more activity for your daughter ahead of that Bible study you think you'd really benefit from? Do you find yourself wishing you could go to the bathroom without somebody pounding on the door wanting to know when you're going to take her to her BFF's house? Do you find yourself wishing you could buy a one-way ticket to the Cayman Islands, just so you could think your own thoughts?

Do you work very hard at trying to be a perfect parent? Does that leave you feeling not perfect, never good enough? Do you ever resent your daughter for not allowing you to be the perfect parent? Or do you learn from your shortfalls? Let yourself be human? Refuse to let your kids criticize you for not being infinitely patient, kind, and understanding, when it's they who are driving you up the wall?

If someone asked you (like I'm doing now) to tell a story from your daughter's recent history that would sum up who she is, what would it be? Would it be delightful to spin out that tale? Would it bring tears to your eyes? Would it break your heart? Would it make you want to go hug her?

If you asked her to tell a story from her recent history of you that would sum up who you are, do you think she could do it? Does she know you well enough? What tale do you think she'd tell? I dare you to give it a go.

Are you getting a sense of what an incredible mother you are and can be just by being your authentic self? Your journey is a model for her. Continually discovering yourself and being that to the best of your human ability will go farther than anything else in insuring that your daughter will do the same.

Going for It.

I will probably say this no less than fifty times in this book: I can't tell you how to be the best parent to your tween daughter. I can only offer some concrete ways to get to what's going to work best for both of you.

Using all of the above, here's what I've come up with for guiding your mini-woman toward her true self.

Give her space and time to wonder and experiment and try out who she is.

You can feel like you need computer software to figure out how much after-school activity is too much-and which activities are helping her discover who she is and which are stressing her out-and which are helping her socially and which fall into the category of "everybody's doing it." Not only that, but there really are so many great opportunities for kids now-everything from classes in composing your own songs to travelling soccer teams. What if you're responsible for her missing out on something amazing?

Actually, the only "program" you need is your understanding of your own daughter. Some thrive on a busy schedule-although I still advise leaving at least two afternoons a week open. Some determine early on that they want to focus on one activity and knock everybody's socks off with it. Others just simply need a lot of down time. Go with what you know. Try not to let what's being done by all the other moms determine how you and your daughter structure her out-of-school time. (You don't have to do what everybody else is doing anymore!) When your daughter does have some time to wonder, be her ally (or her security guard if you have to be) in insuring her some privacy. Seriously, wouldn't you enjoy an hour to sort through what the day has brought, without somebody yelling, "Hurry up! It's time to go!"

Don't label her.

We Christians are so guilty of that with the personality tests we take in church groups. "Oh, she's a sanguine. She just doesn't get worked up about things." "Not mine. She's such a melancholic. Cries over everything." Myers-Briggs, the Enneagram, spiritual giftings, that thing where you're a golden retriever or a weasel or whatever-all of those are helpful in working with and getting along with adults, and even in teaching your kids if you homeschool them or help them with homework. But an eight- to twelve-year-old girl, though she has a specific nature, hasn't grown into it yet. She may have been a high-spirited handful right from the delivery room, but to tell her, "You're a choleric, which means (what does it mean-I've never been able to keep those straight)..." is to make it far less likely that she's going to explore all that she is. Personality "types" are useful tools. They aren't labels that tell us what's in our souls. We humans are far too rich and complex to be defined by one word.

Help her say what she means.

She might not always know, but that provides you with an opportunity to help her find out and put it into words that heal rather than hurt, that open people up rather than shut them down, that resolve issues rather than turn them into international incidents. It's about helping her to find her voice. If she's prone to screaming like the proverbial banshee when she's crossed, you can help her find a way to state her case without alienating everyone within a hundred yards. If she tends to go off and pout, you can draw her out and make it safe for her to say what she's feeling. Again, she might not know exactly what that is, much less how to express it effectively, but that's where you come in.

One of the things I did do "right" as the mother of a tween daughter was to approach Marijean's tirades with, "Okay, let's find out what's really going on here." I believed that "going off" isn't really who anybody "is," and if I could teach her to get in touch with what she was feeling and talk about that, instead of lashing out at whoever was within tongue's reach, I would be helping her find out who she actually was. It seems to have worked. It went something like: "Okay, so Mrs. Luzzie is stupid, everybody in your class is stupid, I'm apparently stupid for making you go to school. Since none of that is probably true"-pause for her to eventually and perhaps reluctantly nod-"did something happen today that made you feel stupid?" That usually resulted in an immediate torrent of tears, much preferable to the previous near-apoplexy, and a joint effort in determining how she could deal with her imaginary stupidness and move on.

Granted, Marijean was an only child. But at the same time, I was working as a teacher, running a children's theatre, and trying to get my writing career off the ground. Going through that with her took time it wouldn't appear that I had. I made time. What I didn't make time for was keeping up with the laundry, putting fabulous meals on the table, or getting those papers graded within a week of the assignment. There are only so many hours in the day. Using some of them to help your daughter find her voice sounds like a good use of time to me.

When she speaks in her own voice, listen to her.

That sounds pretty simple. If she's like many tween girls (my own included), she never stops talking. How can you help but listen, right? Actually, I think most of us moms do a pretty good job of not tuning in. Even today, there are times when my grown daughter calls me while I'm working and I find myself going, "Uh-huh. Really. Wow." In response to what, I have no idea. We often have to go on autopilot just to maintain our sanity.

And yet. Isn't there a maternal antenna that goes up when your daughter takes that tone that says, "I'm in trouble here"? Doesn't everything in you say you need to stop what you're doing and find out what this is about? Those are the times when she's going to tell you who she is-in the way she handles stress, in the way she responds to hurt, in the way she approaches problems. This is where you discover that raising her isn't all about making rules and applying them-though that has to happen too. It's about reading who she is and parenting her accordingly. She's giving you a glimpse. Don't miss it.

Let her make mistakes.

I know this is where I might lose you, but I'm taking the chance that you'll hear me out. We've already talked about the fallacy in Failure isn't an option. You can put that into practice in ways that aren't going to throw your daughter into harm's way, and may keep her out of it in the future.

First let's talk about the difference between "protecting" and "sheltering."

Protecting means providing a safe place to live. Making sure she eats right and dresses appropriately for the weather so she has a better chance of avoiding illness. Not letting her wander off alone in stores. Keeping a close watch on her Internet access. Preventing her brothers from leaving bruises on her. Protection is a response to your deep love for her and your desire for her to grow up strong and healthy and whole.

Sheltering is something else entirely. It's preventing her from ever coming into contact with something that might potentially give her a peek at a path that differs from the one you are determined she's going to follow no matter what. It's reading every book she wants to read before you let her open the cover. Not allowing her to watch a movie, listen to a song, or view a TV show that doesn't have overtly Christian content. (Are there any TV shows with Christian content?) Requiring her to keep her bedroom door open at all times. Telling her she shouldn't even be thinking about boys until she's eighteen.

Moms who shelter in these ways love their children fiercely. We should all have had mothers who cared that impeccably about us. But the sheltering decisions they make aren't based on love. They're based on fear. And while parenting is surely a terrifying task, it should never be directed by the fear that one misstep is going to ruin the child for life-perhaps even for eternity.

If you are a shelterer, then yes, what I'm about to advise may seem horrifying to you, but I'm begging you to at least pray about it as a possibility. Here it is. When your daughter was learning to walk, you weren't constantly picking her up every time she came down on her diaper-padded little fanny. You didn't say, "Don't let go of that table or you'll fall." She had to experiment, she had to try and fall down and get back up and try again in order to eventually move forward.

She still does.

That doesn't mean throwing up your hands and saying, "Do what you want to do, but don't come crying to me if it doesn't work out." It does mean that in the case of something where the consequences of a bad choice will not be dire, but rather provide the teachable moment, you can wisely say: "Okay, if you treat your friend this way today, she probably isn't going to be your friend tomorrow," and let her go. There may be tears, but who ever grew up without shedding a few?

"I am not going to stand over you again tonight until you get your worksheet done. You decide whether you're going to do it or not, but if you don't, the sleepover tomorrow night is out." Then stick by it. When she hears Monday morning about what a blast the slumber party was, doing that worksheet is going to seem like a small price to pay to get back into the loop.

You will obviously decide which decisions can safely be left up to her and which ones are totally in your court. When my daughter was only two and I was struggling with the constant arguments (she was never one to throw a tantrum-she just wanted to debate everything), a counselor friend showed me a technique we used with her until she graduated from high school.

My husband Jim and I drew a box on a piece of paper. Inside the box, we wrote down all the things that she might as well not argue about because that was the way they were going to be. Since she wasn't even reading yet, we drew a picture beside each one. The box contained things like "Go to bed at 7:30," "Sit at the table while you eat. If you get down you're done. Period." "Say please and thank you." "Ask 'Why?' instead of saying 'No' when we tell you to do something." It was a pretty big box. But there was still a little room on the piece of paper outside its lines. There she could put the things that were her decision. Which toy to play with. Which outfit to wear of the three Mom puts on your bed. Which book to have read to you before bed.

It worked like a charm most of the time. All we had to do was say, "Uh, I believe that's in the box," and the whining eventually faded. She felt pretty good about her sweet self getting to make some choices, and the "Wait, this one, not that one-no I wanted THAT one!" was eliminated. "You picked it, darlin', so here we go."

As Marijean got older, the box got gradually smaller. We redid it every so often as it seemed appropriate, until she didn't need the visual drawing anymore, just the sense that some things were still in our hands and some were up to her-with the full knowledge that there are always consequences for the decisions you make and you can't blame anybody else for them.

Through the years, Marijean and I have discussed the fact that some girls didn't seem to have a box. That they rode roughshod over their parents and ended up a danger to themselves and others. Their potential for a free and happy life was down to nil. On the other hand, some girls operated with a box that filled up the whole page, no matter how old they were. Interesting how they too ended up a danger to themselves and others, without the possibility of an authentic journey. I try not to be smug-but again, I swear by this.

You still have the brakes. You can still intervene if a decision she's about to make suddenly threatens to get ugly. You're like the driver's ed teacher who gives the young driver the wheel, lets her stall out, and watches her knock over a few pylons before she gets the hang of parallel parking. But he doesn't take her out on the interstate until she's ready-and he's always prepared to grab the wheel or come down on that brake he has on his side of the car. Eventually he'll let her take off on her own-way on down the road from now-but that won't happen if they never leave the parking lot now.

Realize that the things that drive you crazy about her now may become the best things about her in the future.

Does she argue about absolutely everything? You can put limits on that (see the box technique above), but try not to stifle it completely. She could be headed toward becoming a great debater, perhaps an attorney (so she can support you in your old age). Does she have an opinion about absolutely everything? You can teach her to express those in appropriate ways, but I wouldn't try to stop her from having them. Who's to say she isn't destined to be a social critic? Does she spend long hours daydreaming when she's supposed to be setting the table? Definitely train her to take care of her responsibilities, but make sure she has plenty of "legal" dreaming time. Great feats always begin with great visions.

Above all, enjoy her.

The best way to instill a love for who she truly is-is simply to show her that she is truly adored. That you treasure her precious self. That you are delighted with who she is, no matter who she is. No, you aren't going to giggle with glee when she's slamming her bedroom door because you've told her she can't have an iPhone. But there are plenty of moments when she isn't practicing to be the Wicked Witch of the West-in fact, that's probably most of the time. That's when you can show her that she is the joy of your world, not because of anything she does to "earn" that, but simply because she's your daughter.

As a tween she's experiencing a certain confidence, perhaps a sense of adventure that's typical of her age. Revel in that. Have fun getting to know her. Watch, listen, study, figure out-who did God make her to be? And love doing it. Purely and simply, love it.

For example, some of the discussions you'll have with your girl as she grows up are going to be on the heavy side, but the question "Who are you?" can be one of the lighter ones to entertain.

What if on one of those afternoons spent in the car dropping kids off and picking them up, you and your mini-woman ask each other: If you were a dog, which breed do you think you'd be? (Not which one you want to be, but which one fits your personality.) If Dad were a chef back in the kitchen of a restaurant, what would you order that would let him know you were there in the dining room?

What color says it all about you?

If you could ask God one specific question and have him answer in an audible voice, what would it be?

The only rule in this game is that you don't get to say, "No, I don't think you're an Irish setter-you're more like a Chihuahua." The point is to find out what she knows about herself. The fun comes in the surprises.

Enjoy. Yes, enjoy.

Bridging the Gap.

Lord God, thank you for making everything you want her to be. Please help me to see what that is. Please guide me in guiding her to embrace her me-ness. I know I can't do it for her, so please, please, bridge the gap between what she needs in order to be truly authentic, and what help I have to give.

Thanks be to you, God. Thanks be to you. Amen.

2.