The girls were playing well together on the computer … until my oldest talked my youngest into spending everything in her Webkinz account on a new virtual bed for one of Katie's online characters.

“Katie said she'd give me something from her account if I bought the bed,” Hollie cried. “I spent $1,100 and all she sent me was some popcorn!”

“You shouldn’t let anyone talk you into doing anything you don’t want to do,” I reminded Hollie before turning my attention to her sister.

“Katie, did you tell Hollie that you would send her something from your Webkinz account if she bought the bed for you?”

“Yes, but I didn’t say what,” she said with a grin.

“I told Katie what I wanted and she didn’t say no,” Hollie shouted.

“I think it’s time to take a break from the computer.”

I could have left it at that. We were, after all, talking about make-believe money in an online world where kids bought clothes, food, and furniture for virtual pets, instead of real people. I could have … but I didn’t because I was more concerned with my daughter's character than with keeping the peace.

It was a conclusion that author Jerry Bridges agreed with in his book The Practice of Godliness when he had this to say about spiritual growth: “It is possible to train ourselves in the wrong direction ... The question is, In which direction are we growing? ”

“Are we growing toward godly character or ungodly character?” Bridges continued on page 69.  “Are we growing in love or selfishness; in harshness or patience; in greed or generosity; in honesty or dishonesty; in purity or impurity? Every day we are training ourselves in one direction or the other by the thoughts we think, the words we say, the actions we take, the deeds we do.”

I didn’t want Katie to develop a habit of using her gift of persuasion for ungodly gain. If I let her get away with agreeing to something that she had no intention of following through on, I would be encouraging her to do just that as I sent the message that cunning—and not character—counts.

“Look at what your actions have done to your sister,” I demanded while pointing to Hollie, who was crying on her bed.

When Katie said nothing, I decided to share a local truth that I'd been shielding her from ... until now.

“Do you know what happens when you trick people out of money as a grown up?” I asked.

“What?”

“They put you in jail.”

Katie seemed unphased by my warning, so I told her about a dad in our community who is awaiting trial for cheating people out of money.

“He's sitting in a cell right now while his kids grow up without him,” I exclaimed. “Do you want to miss out on seeing your family because you’re in jail for tricking people out of what is rightfully theirs?”

“No,” Katie replied.

If the fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom, then a fear of what God can do through consequences must add to it. I know this because Katie immediately told Hollie that she was sorry.

With the sister twister downgraded to an apologetic  breeze, I spoke into the stillness to offer one last piece of advice: “Do you remember the rhyme I made up that deals with keeping your word?”

Katie shook her head.

“Always do what you said you would do; God rewards those who follow through,” I reminded her.

It was a simple way to end a serious discussion that Moses started in Numbers 30:2 while meeting with leaders of the tribes of Israel. “When a man makes a vow to the LORD or takes an oath to obligate himself by a pledge,” Moses explained, “he must not break his word but must do everything he said.”