Note: our son has read and has given permission to each word that is published on this page.
Our son graduated from high school this year, and we are proud of him! Each of our lives have stories to tell from the experiences and choices made. I will not tell our son’s stories, but I can speak about my own as his mama. Blessed we have been these 18 years to journey this life with him. As a boy, he exuded light and joy, ready for adventure and discovery, compassionate and creative, well-read of places real and places real only in the imagination. An experiential learner, he asked why. Sometimes the answer satisfied him because of his trust in us and in his experience: Stay on the hiking path within sight of us; God is, God loves, and God is with you; and the vowel team “ee” always makes the long /e/ sound in English words. Sometimes, he searched to find if that answer was true: let me hover my hand near the stove to see how hot it might really be; that looks good, let me lick it; if I climb a little higher, what will I see. These of course are my observations as a mama. God created us as curious beings with minds and hearts to explore the world.
When we listened to the call to return to Oregon after living in Pennsylvania for 7 years, Drew and I shared with our children our upcoming move. In those fragile moments of sadness and unknowns, I think distrust of God and us began. For better or worse, I am a person who looks at an upcoming situation and remarks, “It’ll be great!”. But not everyone shares that outlook nor is it always true.
Since moving to Oregon 3 years ago, our son’s experience hasn’t been great. Not even good. Through a series of trying new things, unkindness of others, Covid-19, a variety of social and political changes, lack of personal peer support, distrust of us making loving decisions, our son spiraled to a dark place.
When I was a new mama, I wondered why the mamas of teenagers weren’t mentoring us new mamas. Why weren’t they imparting all their wisdom? Where were they? A part of me hurt because of their distance, another part of me judged their lack of support. Just being honest. A year ago, I realized and felt convicted that the reason some of those mothers didn’t speak or walk along with us is because they were walking in hard times, dark times, and uncertain times themselves. And perhaps the reason they didn’t mentor is the same reason I haven’t felt able to mentor anyone the past few years. Drew and I have been crying out to God for wisdom, strength, love, joy, compassion, discernment, and comfort. Crying out for wisdom to know how to parent or if all that we’d done as parents thus far was right or wrong? I couldn’t guide or advise anyone.
Until 2020, our son openly shared his dreams, concerns, thoughts, ideas, and questionings. He delighted in time together Lego building, sharing his music, exploring outdoors, and dialoguing about different opinions. He’d always been a little confessional, told us when he’d lied or even thought something naughty. An understood in our home has been that the truth is better known than not. Whatever the truth is, let’s hear it, and we’ll deal with it together.
For better or worse in life, we observe people and then we unconsciously or consciously compare. Our eyes divert from God’s ways or path or assurance in our lives and instead we wonder, ‘how does that family seem to have it altogether?’ or ‘wow-glad that’s not my family’. All this to say, our family has been viewed as having it altogether e.g. our children know and receive the love of the Lord and are obedient. In the past few years, we have also been viewed as having wayward children who reject God and are in the midst of cultural everything.
For anyone who reads this and wondering if you are alone in your parenting, please know that our family has walked through much sadness, anxiety, and uncertainty in the past 3 years. Drew and I have prayed our son through many nights. We have uttered prayers first thing in the morning in the hopes when we opened a door, we would find him alive. We have had countless conversations about gender and identity. We know what it’s like to look a teen in the face and wonder what substance is being used. No longer does he worship God: Father, Son and Holy Spirit. While looking in our eyes, we have endured lie after lie. Our white and grey hair display the moments fighting for our son against evil forces. And while we have always tried to foster a home of felt safety, our home at times has not felt safe at all. AND YET… through all the heartache and desperation, we have praised God it has all happened while he lived in our home. No matter how difficult, we and he have been here.
Dark times seem the darkest when you’re not sure if/when it will end. Scenarios play in your mind of a teen’s choices taking them down a variety of paths: some wretched, some life giving. But through lots of prayer and care from others’, light poked through in December which has brought a steady stream of honesty, motivation, sweet-boyness, and hope once again. In September, our son is headed to St. Olaf College driven by a love of linguistics, Nordic Studies and Norwegian. More life-giving choices are being made. No substances alter him except the occasional expresso.
Light and hope have slowly returned along with laughter, smiles and hugs. We’ll keep loving come what may… because he is worth it. Our children are worth it. God doesn’t stop loving us, and we must not stop loving either. If any of you ever feel the need for support and prayer in the midst of darkness, please reach out, we will listen and be present with you in whatever you are walking through.
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