A Higher Education. Her calling is connecting with young adults (high school/college) in their most vulnerable time in life. She really seeks to prepare and equip them to take ownership of their faith as they prepare to leave the nest. As an additional resource, she has made a webpage that allows for students and their parents to build a community of support as they navigate this sometimes treacherous phase of life. The webpage is also host to several guest writers who share their perspective, lessons learned, challenges faced, and encouraging faith-growth moments. Last week, she published an article that I wrote about what it means to be a faithful parent during these years of growth and change. Thought I would share it here. Please feel free to share it with friends/family who you think may be blessed by the solidarity of parenting faithfully together. Also, check out Kim's website https://www.facebook.com/AHigherEducationBook for more great stories and testimonies.
Heaven. Help. Us.
My oldest just turned 16. And,
while that isn’t even a third of his life expectancy, it feels monumental. I
remember being 16! I was already dating the man I married. I was so confident
and eager and excited to leave for college and strike out on my own. How did I
not notice my parents freaking out about that?!?!
Parenting through teenage years is like parenting in dog years. For every
one year that passes, it's like actually surviving 7. Which means, in what feels like the blink of
an eye, I have run the gauntlet of this broken and fallen world gripping
tightly to the hand of my first born. I have spent the last three years
navigating increasingly grown-up experiences, thought processes, and skills
with this boy who looks more like a man everyday. It has been a journey that leaves me regularly
battered and bruised, wondering if I’m really qualified for this position.
Mothering has brought me some of the greatest joys of my life, but it is
also the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.
And while I would love to just spend the next 2-3 years on my knees in
deep meditation and prayer, God has called me to be his parent. That means while I
am fervently praying over his life, I
must also be active in his life—even
when he wants me to leave him alone. While
the voices of the world tell him he’s not enough and his efforts have no
purpose, I have to find ways to make the truth of his identity in Christ rise
above the cacophony.
Honestly, this is a learn-as-we-go process. My methods are far from perfect. However, the
most important aspect of parenting—especially at this age where they challenge
authority and seek autonomy—is to make sure I’m leading, guiding, and
disciplining based on the constant truth of God’s word. That means instead of
retorts like “because I said so” or “because I’m the mom”, I cite my God given
authority in his life, or call on verses that speak to what God expects of him.
2 Timothy 3:16
says, “All scripture is useful for teaching, rebuking, correcting and training
in righteousness.” (NIV). Parents, this is your manifesto! Grab your
bible. Know the scripture that speaks to
the struggles you face. Use God’s word
to make lasting and meaningful connections.
My teenager may hate me in the moment, but if my reaction is biblically based,
I can have confidence in my decision-making.
Getting skin tough enough to endure the hate-talk is a different story.
When apathy creeps in, I crave grace as my currency. Under-enthusiasm
seems to be part and parcel of the teenage years. Everything is fine. School is ok.
The movie was alright. Reactions
are mostly non-committal and the pace is so sloth-like sometimes I feel driven
to check for a pulse. Getting out of bed
to do anything is like a modern day miracle.
It has taken me almost a full year to not take this indifference
personally. He doesn’t want to sleep
until noon because I’m a bad parent. He
doesn’t grumble and grunt about his chores because I’m torturing him. He does those things because that is the
reaction of his flesh. As parents, we
are called to train them. Train them so much and so consistently that when they
are older, the foundation you laid stays with them. (No pressure, mom and dad.) For us, this training has meant keeping a
schedule even when it’s the weekend or summer vacation. The alarm goes off at the same time everyday.
He is expected to fulfill his commitments to the family before he indulges in
what he wants for the day. That means
chores come before Facetime chats with the girlfriend and family events are
priority over movie nights with his buddy.
We expect him to be mindful of his time and responsible for his
obligations to the family. Christian
author and mom of five, Jen Hatmaker, says in this phase of life we are called
to be like a stone-cold Mother Theresa.
So true! My heart must be full of love and compassion. My resolve must be firm and unwavering.
In less than 24 months, this boy who first made me a mother, will leave
our home. Let me tell you that 24 months
seems like a woefully inadequate amount of time to impart all of the learning
and wisdom I feel like he will need to survive at least a week. I mean, this is
the kid who is legally allowed to operate a motor vehicle—on the road, with
other people around—but sometimes can’t remember to make his bed in the morning. This boy, who towers above both his parents
at 6’4”, whose voice is deep and mature, still needs to be reminded to take a
water bottle to basketball practice.
Heaven help us.
That’s the point,
though, isn’t it? Literally. Heaven.
Help. Us. We cannot parent these
children into adults without the guidance, power, and wisdom of the Holy
Spirit. We are only capable of loving
them through mess-ups and slip-ups because HE FIRST LOVED US.
My little boy is growing up. He is
testing those wings. What once were useless, flailing appendages, before my
eyes have become strong, capable tools. That process has been humbling and
gratifying to witness. He is teetering at the edge of the nest desiring to feel
the wind around him. While he is
emboldened by the promise of soaring, I am terrified because I know what it
feels like to fall and hit the ground. I
remember the sting of disappointing my parents, recall how easy it was to get
caught up in and give over to temptation. I was a teenager when I became a
parent. Eventually, I found my way back into the wind beneath His wings, but
the road to spiritual, mental, emotional, and physical healing was long and
arduous. I desperately want to protect
my children from that same pain.
God calls me to know the potential of the ground—that place where you
hit rock bottom, but not to focus on it.
I have to lift my eyes. Turn my
face, and tune my heart to the heavens.
And call out. He wants my
desperation. He wants my tear-stained
face, and broken heart. This is my
“Isaac moment”. He wants me to unclench
my fists, and hold my son high up to Him. I have to be confident in His promise
of grace, goodness, and provision. My
son gains so much when I acknowledge God’s sovereignty in his life. He witnesses the power of my faith-filled
surrender. That surrender is made simpler when I remember
that God loves my son even more completely than I do.
As I teach the tenets of our faith to my son, God’s voice is echoing in
my heart as a parent. Live
faithfully. Love obediently. Trust fully.
He knew my baby before he was even formed in my womb. I know the future
holds at least a few more crazy driving lessons, late night discussions about
college, and plenty of disappointments.
God didn’t promise that this life would be easy. Through the highs and
the lows, I trust Him to continue the good work started in my son—and I know
that means he will also continue the good work begun in me as a parent.
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