Parenting Is a Forever Trust and Treasure

You know, I've written an article similar but not totally like this before, but it's worth revisiting. For those of you who have grown children, especially ones who may have made mistakes, this may be especially worth reading. You never stop parenting some kind of way.

I have a semi-grown son (he's 19, married, and has our first grandson). Before he and his wife moved in with us to get their "footing" before he joins the Air Force, he called me one day and said, "Mom, I've decided I'm not a grown up after all. I still need your help and advice, and I've got so much on my plate, I wish I was a kid again."  What?!!  What parent didn't know this already, and upon hearing it, just wants to jump up and down--except you jump inside while you look calm and nonjudgemental on the outside. Well, I didn't have to have the calm look because my conversation was over the phone. That means I got to smile...knowingly.

In a perfect world, my son would be in college right now, on a full academic scholarship (he is such an academically smart and creative kid) more than half done with his 4 years, looking forward to graduation and his big future, still single but possibly dating with the intent of getting married (waiting purposely on that until some time after graduation), a job, a starter house to bring her home to, and only needing me to send love, blessings, those anticipated care packages and a little monetary support. Nice dreams mom, but that's not our world. I don't know if it was ever in his future for things to turn out this way, but one thing I am sure of, is that it wasn't in his future, at least not in God's perfect will for him, to turn out the way it has.

You see, my son, yeah, that smart kid, had a mental breakdown at 15 1/2 that lasted 2 1/2 years, rebelled against authority like never before, left home for short stints without us knowing, lost his short-term memory and sense of direction, lost some of his academic abilities, and thought he had gone so far that God couldn't forgive him or use him for anything. This was a few things among many that he and we suffered through those years. Poor kid. What now?

My job, at this point, was supposed to be Mom the Life Coach, the supporter who came alongside, the prayer warrior for the adult child out on his own, etc., not the mom who needed God to show her that she wasn't going to have some sort of breakdown herself when all of this hit. No, things don't always go quite the way we planned, expected, or think that we and our children deserve. But, whose world is this anyway? And is EVERYTHING not filtered through the hands of God? Am I any better than anyone else? Why should I think I DESERVE better and be disappointed about the fact that mine was a less than perfect world? What world did I think I was living in anyway? I got answers to ALL of these questions. I got clarity on the ones I already knew the answers to. I got closer to the Lord. I had a new job to do, and I needed to be a new kind of parent.

Grown kids can have anything from the greatest situations happen to them in life where we are just so extremely proud of them, we can't wait to tell everybody, or they can have situations where we're so ashamed of their behavior, that we don't want to tell anybody, except maybe our closest, prayer-warring friends. I chose to be the parent that learned how to parent an almost adult child, and one that had issues to boot. I chose to be what I needed in my friends and family--a prayer warrior and not a worrier. 

My son is better now, but his statement still comes to mind often. He needs me still, in some kind of way, even when he was rebelling and didn't realize he needed me. They need us. We're not done parenting, whether they've done well or made mistakes. This parenting thing is a life-long commitment, whether they live with you or live five states over. Their every conversation with you says that "I trust you to love me, support me, tell me the truth, pray for me, correct me, advise me, and be there for my children, if God chooses this for me."

My son has come back and not only apologized, but has verbally proved to us that he understands the need for a parent and that he doesn't want to live this life without one (until God calls us home). He doesn't want his son to miss out on the blessings of a loving grandparent.  Now this is where I smile again, but this time, I can let him see me. I want him to know that this makes a parent happy. This isn't a smile of pride that thinks, "Yeah, I knew you'd come back and tell me that. I knew you'd see the light one day boy! I knew I was right."  It's a knowing smile that God is good, and He is good all of the time, through good and bad. It's a smile that says He is in control, even when we think that He has abandoned us or briefly forgotten about us and our situation. It is a smile that says that He is still in the miracle working business, although a God that speaks the earth into existence didn't work a miracle. That would only be in our eyes. He just does what THE GOD of the universe does. He IS GOD! Creating things is easy for Him. I smiled that day because I realized that I didn't have to have a prodigal son who returned home, and if he didn't, I knew that I still needed to be okay with that. And you know what? I had already gotten that way, before he came back. 

God had promised good to me, and He wanted me to know that His good and my good may look different, but that He was still truly GOOD!  He can't be otherwise.  My son is not the same he was before his breakdown, but he is so much better than he was. I don't have any idea why God chose not to restore him completely or back to his former self, but I know it's part of His perfect plan for the rest of my son's life. I gave this son, in my heart and mind, back to the one who created and designed him. What better parent than God can he have? I don't come close. Our Abba Father is my son's loving parent. And God has used me as His earthly vessel to do His parenting through. So I can't afford to be prideful. I must be humble. For he still needs me...