I do appreciate all the sweet comments and pms that I’ve gotten–they’ve been a huge encouragement to me. Obviously, those who think I’m a crummy mother and could see this coming all along because of my occasional liberal leanings have refrained from blasting me yet. Maybe if I’d been into first-time obedience my kid wouldn’t be doing these things. Maybe if I’d scheduled feedings instead of demand-fed this wouldn’t have happened. Maybe if we’d made them sleep in their own beds instead of having a family bed when they were little. Maybe if I’d spanked more. But I know for a fact that it just isn’t that easy. As a long-time observer of human behavior and parenting I can say that it just isn’t that easy.
I ought to take no more credit for my daughter than blame for my son. And when I start to frame their issues, both good and bad, in light of myself, I elevate my own importance and, at the same time, devalue them and the God who created us all. I am not the center of the universe. My role was to teach and guide not control the outcome. And frankly, the outcome is still uncertain. If anyone had taken a snapshot of my husband and his sister when they were 20 and 18 the prediction would have been that my husband was headed for a life of ruin and his sister would be the success. And that’s not exactly how it has gone down.
Want to hear something funny? That highly-recommended counselor told us that our son is normal and our daughter is the aberrant one. Hilarious, isn’t it? And by my recent (as in the last two days) perusal of many of the local kids’ myspace pages, I’d have to say that if “normal” means common then he’d be right. No wonder he thinks this behavior is normal. These myspace pages are filled with pictures of drunk, stoned, sexually-active teenagers dancing around bonfires. Apparently, from my myspace research, psychedelics are the rage this summer amongst our local kids. LSD, ecstasy, and mushrooms are the drugs of choice for the local party crowd. And they aren’t exactly hiding it.
Seeing the pervasiveness of the drug scene in our local community has cast a pall of despair over me and I think contributed to my restless, prayer-filled night’s sleep and subsequent tension headache that even a healthy dose of ibuprofen isn’t touching. Will my son choose to turn his back on this laughing, fun-loving crowd of people who seem to be dancing around these various summer bonfires without a care in the world? Of course, I know that the cares of this world and all its realities and consequences that are inevitable from drugs and promiscuity WILL come crashing down upon them, but my son and his friends do not believe it. For now, they are laughing and having fun today for tomorrow they die. I remember being that age and thinking that way…before reality came crashing down on me. I pray for my son that he will be given eyes to see and ears to hear and will come to his senses quickly rather than too late.
Anyway, my husband made it home safe and sound. Well, safe anyway. I’m not sure how sound we are. We do have a sort of peace, but it isn’t a peace I’d wish on anyone else. We’ve taken a drastic action, that’s for sure, without any clue how it is going to turn out. I fight despair and cling to hope. I feel so alone. Nobody else here in my neck of the woods is rushing their kids off anywhere, or doing anything constructive that I can see to stop this madness. Hell, no. I don’t know about my kids, but clearly my husband and I ARE aberrant parents.
So here’s the Scripture that inspired my dreams. I actually dreamed that I was this woman in this parable and I kept going to God and begging Him for justice and attention to my problem.
The Parable of the Persistent Widow
Then Jesus told his disciples a parable to show them that they should always pray and not give up. He said: “In a certain town there was a judge who neither feared God nor cared about men. And there was a widow in that town who kept coming to him with the plea, ‘Grant me justice against my adversary.’
“For some time he refused. But finally he said to himself, ‘Even though I don’t fear God or care about men, yet because this widow keeps bothering me, I will see that she gets justice, so that she won’t eventually wear me out with her coming!’ ”
And the Lord said, “Listen to what the unjust judge says. And will not God bring about justice for his chosen ones, who cry out to him day and night? Will he keep putting them off? I tell you, he will see that they get justice, and quickly. However, when the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on the earth?”
In my dream, God was quite annoyed with me and sick of hearing my lament. Too bad. I’m not leaving the throne room until I get what I want.