On Raising Teenagers

I am raising a teenager. And she is my first child. God bless her. I am learning, in increasing increments along the way, that I do not have the answers. This is something I know in my mind. The reasonable part of me is not unclear about this. But somehow, even still, I tend to live as if I do.

I feel like if I can just figure out the perfect cocktail of good words, appropriate amounts of holding close and pulling back, the winsome blend of good humor and sage advice, that I can make it all turn out alright. But, I am not doing any of that with great skill. I have some good words, but they aren’t always great and they definitely aren’t always received as I hope they will be. I feel like I am always either holding too closely or not closely enough. The mother in me usually feels the “not enough” part more while the daughter in her probably always feels the “too close” part more. I think I’m pretty good on the humor part, but she definitely doesn’t think I’m as funny as she used to think. The advice…well, I KNOW I am right about the advice but I also know it sounds boring and irrelevant and churchy and old to her young ears.

Even with all of my good intentions, things don’t go as I would have hoped much of the time. Like 60% of the time, it turns out. Actually, that’s probably generous. And the thing is, even when it does, I don’t have this sense of calm and “all is well” that I hope for. It feels tenuous at best. Like it could all shatter at any moment. Tenuous is probably a good synonym for teenager.

In the midst of it all, here is the only thing that brings me peace. The nearness of Christ.

I know how simple that sounds and I also know that it is not at all easy. For me, it has meant learning to spend the time I have each day like a currency, instead of giving it away without thought. I am trying to be aware of how my thoughts can run away from me. I am committed to wrangling them back and talking to Jesus about them. I started trying to notice when I was feeling anxious and then praying the words, “Yahweh Shalom (God of Peace), your burden is light.” He gave me those words. He is so good at knowing exactly what I need. When I talk to him, I can let it go. Because in that moment it seems so ridiculous to hang onto it when he is right there offering to carry it for me. Sometimes, I can only seem to give it to him for a few minutes before I start to take it back again. So, I do it again. I feel like he gets it. And, when I imagine him in my head, he is always smiling, always ready to take it back. No shame, just grace.

Two things happen for me in those moments. First, I notice that he is right there. That he is present and with me always. Secondly, I realize that I need his presence more than I need him to fix whatever it is. It turns out that his presence in the midst of our suffering or anxiousness or sorrow is actually enough. I can endure as long as I have him. So, his nearness gives me peace.

As he brings me peace, I am more able give my daughter a purer version of the thing that comes more naturally for me in regards to her. Love. Gosh, I just love her so much. I found the picture above when I was in Texas visiting my parents and just stared at it. My face says everything. There was deep contentment in just being her mom. I finally had the thing I had wanted and hoped and prayed for, for so long. I still feel like that. I look at her sometimes and think, “What in the world? How can my heart be filled with so much love?” When I have peace, I can love her in wise ways that don’t require anything of her, a kind of love she seems to welcome more than the grasping kind that desperately wants her to just be safe and good.

I’m told that this phase of parenting is going to last for a while, and probably get a little worse before it gets better. So, I guess I’ll get a lot of practice on how to un-clench and be freed up to love. I’m down for that. It seems as though the Holy Spirit’s work in my life is always pushing me toward more freedom. It is always clearing out more junk to make space for more of Him. He brings conviction so I can be free from sin. Rest so I can be free from trying to earn my worthiness. Contentment and joy so I can be free to enjoy Him and the life he’s given me. Security so I can be free to love. I want that kind of freedom that makes space for more.

At the end of the day, I am like Paul or Apollos in my children’s life. I plant the seed, or I water it. But it is God who makes it grow. I can’t make anything grow. Believe me, I’ve tried. That’s best left up to him, the Master Gardener. My prayer reminds me of this.

Yahweh Shalom, your burden is light. You are doing all the heavy lifting here. Clear out more of my junk so that there is more space to be filled with your living water. Lord, make me a spring of living water, spilling over into the soil of my children’s hearts.