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When the Joys of Motherhood Escape Me

Here it is, my first brutally honest blog post about parenting teens. You're about to get a look into my head. I hope you're ready.

I don't like it.

There. I said it. I don't like parenting teens.

Before you yell at me about the virtues and joys of motherhood let me clarify. I like being a mom. It's the mothering I don't like. If I could be their mom and just have fun without having to put in the work, I am there.

But that isn't how this works, is it?

From the moment my babes were born until the moment they are full-fledged adults and even to some degree after that, I will not only be called mom, but I will be called to BE a mother. I know this comes as shocking. I know it flies in the face of all the mushy toddler mom blog posts. I know it comes across as kind of stereotypical with the whole, "teens are so awful" feel. It really isn't that though. My teens aren't awful. I mean they can be as irritating, loud, and disrespectful as the best of them, but largely my teens aren't difficult. By the grace of God none of them are involved in anything illicit, they are open to the things of the Lord and all of them claim Christ as their own. I have no real reason to suspect any deception there. As teens go, mine are pretty easy.

It's not them. It's me. I find the task of raising children to be very difficult. I am a planner. I like to know the end result. Why am I doing this? What can I expect the outcome to be? The idea of investing 18+ years in each of my children's lives and then seeing them make poor choices or worse walk away from their faith is devastating to me. Not just devastating, debilitating. I don't like the risk and do you know what I tend to do when the risk becomes too high? I walk away. I just leave it behind and move on to something less risky. But that doesn't work with children, right? It certainly doesn't jive with Scripture. So what is a scaredy-cat, play-it-safe mom to do? The easiest thing to do is to give up. If I give up, I can emotionally disconnect. I can close my eyes and pretend the call to mother my children doesn't exist. I can leave them to make their own beds and reap the rewards of that. I can play the fatalist. After all, God is sovereign!

Or, I can swing the other direction. I can throw myself so completely into my children that I begin to think I am their Holy Spirit. I can become afraid that every decision I make is driving them away. I can believe that somehow if I just do it right, I can guarantee their salvation. I can lose my identity in them. I can be delighted when they perform. I can be devastated when they don't. I can train my little monkies and then expect God to save them because I did it all right. It's like my own little prosperity gospel!

The truth is, I tried both of these to some extent. Neither of them gave me peace. In fact, the opposite is true. By not being engaged with my children I lost the opportunity to experience the gift that they are to me. By idolizing them, I took on a burden so heavy that I couldn't find joy in those opportunities because I was so afraid I was screwing up. It was a no-win situation. So, where is the balance?

I hope you will stick with me as work through my own sinful inclinations and grapple with scripture regarding the vocation of motherhood (and other topics).

To His Glory,
The Grace Divide

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