Vicki Courtney - Your Girl: Raising a Godly Daughter in an Ungodly World

This is a fabulous book! Your Girl is not only touching, it is teaching! Vicki's approach is biblical, straightforward, and relevant. A must read for every daughter's mother.

Beth Moore, author, speaker, and founder of Living Proof Ministries

Vicki's fingertips are on the pulse of every mother's heart across this nation as captured so effectively in the book Your Girl. Vicki has penned clear directions for anyone who wants to raise a daughter to make a difference in this world for Jesus. I am so thrilled to have this book as a resource to recommend to all the mothers I teach across this nation.

Jackie Kendall, author of best-selling book Lady in Waiting

Not only does Vicki Courtney tell it like it should beshe tells us how what should be, CAN be in practical, powerful ways. Your Girl is a must-read for every mother raising a daughter of any age.

Nancy Rue, author of the Lily series for girls

Vicki Courtney opens our eyes and empowers mothers by reminding us that we do still have tremendous influence in the lives of our daughters, that daughters are watching and listening for direction. Your Girl gives help and encouragement to equip mothers to navigate the culture and lead their daughters into maturity, rather than to allow the culture to take them by the hand and lead them through life.

Nancy Stafford, co-star of Matlock, speaker, and author of Beauty by the Book: SeeingYourself as God Sees You

Vicki's words will capture every mother's heart raising a daughter in today's world. Your Girl will encourage you to stand firm on God's promises and take back what we've allowed our society to creep into our homes.

Terry Brown, creator of TodaysGirls

I love this book. This is the book moms and mentors have been searching for. So timely, so right on, so real. Every woman with a heart to reach this generation of girls needs this book. It's one more powerful tool in the hands of God's girl movement. Vicki, we're singing the same song. Way to go girl.

Lisa Ryan, co-host 700 Club, author, and speaker

Paige,

The first thing I said when you were born was, I got my girl! In that first year I treated you like a living doll, changing your clothes several times a day and making sure you never left the house without a hair bow, even if it meant sticking it on your pretty bald head with a dab of Karo syrup! I wanted everyone to know that you were my girl, not to mention a girl!

Today, thirteen years later, you are still a living doll, and you are still my girl. However, I would be remiss to claim you for my very own. As much as I cherish and love you, it could never match the love God has for you. May you continue to grow in the knowledge that you are, above all, His girl.

BFF,

Mom

Keith, I have said it before and I will say it over and over again: I could never have followed through with God's call on my life had you not viewed it as your calling as well. You are my husband, editor, advisor, and most of all, my best friend. I love you!

Ryan, Paige, and Hayden, thank you for loving me for who I am. Like Dad, you have viewed my calling as a calling on the entire family. You have graciously excused my domestic and culinary inadequacies in the name of manuscript deadlines. We may not be the Cleaver family, but praise God, we laugh. We have been so very blessed, and we must never forget it.

Mom, like many mothers and daughters, we had our share of rough years. I am so glad that God is restoring to us the years the locusts have eaten (Joel 2:25). Thank you for being an incredible mother, grandmother, and most of all, my friend.

To my mother-in-love, (aka Memaw), thank you for being a faithful prayer warriorI have felt it. Thanks also for raising your son to be a godly husband and father.

Kristi, Michelle, Shelley, and Joy, you have kept things running smoothly at Virtuous Reality Ministries so I can stick to my gifts, which are clearly not the administrative details! Thank you for your devotion to God's call.

Carolyn, you were my friend before you were my pastor's wife. Thank you for cheering me on when I felt like giving up. God had a plan, and you were part of it.

I appreciate the sincere devotion of Broadman & Holman to this project. God had placed this vision on my heart to write this book, yet I lacked a publisher and the time to find one. I committed it to prayer, and God allowed our paths to cross (more than once) for such a time as this.

Thank you to all the moms (with daughters) who encouraged me over the last several years to write this book. I was appointed to write the book, but the cry to change the culture belongs to us all.

To my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ: You lifted me out of the slimy pit, out of the mud and mire, and set my feet on a rock. You gave me a firm place to stand and put a new song in my mouth. Thank You for taking the mud in my life and using it for Your good and glory. I will never stop singing about Your grace and mercyYou are my everything.

T he drama surrounding the birth of my second child should I have been my clue that life would never be the same. On a Saturday afternoon, several days before my due date, I mentioned to my husband, Keith, that I was experiencing scattered contractions. He dismissed it as false labor and discouraged me from calling my doctor. We had made several unnecessary trips to the hospital before. Keith, no doubt, was having flashbacks of our last hospital visit where he got to sleep upright in a metal chair while they monitored my false contractions throughout the night.

By Saturday evening my contractions were coming more regularly, at a safe six minutes apart. Once again, Keith discouraged me from calling my doctor. As the contractions continued to close in, I trusted my instincts and called my doctor. Keith, still doubting, begrudgingly got into the car. After dropping off our two-year-old son at a friend's house, we began the thirty-minute drive to the hospital. The contractions were coming at a regular three minutes apart and had taken on a level of pain that was somewhat reminiscent of the final stages of labor with my first child. I made a note to self: banish husband to couch for remainder of marriage. By the time we neared the hospital, Keith had turned on the hazard lights and was running every red light. I'm not sure if the petrified look on his face was due to fear of my coming wrath or fear of delivering our second child on the highway.

Finally, my husband squealed into the emergency entrance of the hospital, and I was immediately whisked away in a wheelchair. Keith raced to park the car. I knew it was serious when the nurse bypassed the station where I was to fill out the obligatory mounds of paperwork and screamed, I need to get her into a room! No sooner than the nurse had put me in a bed, my water broke and my contractions were coming one on top of another. At that point I was consumed with only one thought. I wish I could say it was a thought concerning the fact that my husband might miss the birth of our second child while parking the car, but instead it boiled down to this: