parenting teens

 My mom once asked her own mom what she thought was the hardest part about raising kids. I'm not sure when their conversation took place, but it wouldn't surprise me if it was after one of the many... spirited disagreements... we had when I was growing up. Part of Memaw's answer was, "If you can love them through junior high, you can love them through anything."

Honestly, junior high was one of the reasons I left teaching. The politics were the main reason, sure, but I'm not going to lie to you and say I loved teaching hormonal young teenagers. I've often said that it didn't seem like my students could really connect with my odd sense of humor and bluntness until they hit about sophomore year. That's the year they would start saying I wasn't too bad, then by junior or senior year they actually seemed to like me a little. 7th through 9th grade, though? Yeah, there wasn't a whole lot of love lost between us. I remember telling my mom once that I was having a hard time dealing with the teenage girls in my classes, and she said, "Of course--you didn't like teenage girls when you were a teenage girl."

Right now, we basically have 5 teenagers at home: 12, 14, 15, 17, & 17. Let me tell you, that's a whole lot of hormones and a whole lot of drama! 3 boys, 2 girls. I would have thought that the boys would be easier to deal with through the teenage years because everybody always talks about how emotional girls are... but my goodness, teenage boys are definitely no picnic!

We've had lots of talks in our house that sound about like this:

"It's simple biology. As a teenager, your mind and body are flooded with so many hormones that your brain simply doesn't work. I'm not saying anything about you personally--all teenagers are dumb. That's the purpose of parents. My job isn't to be your friend. My job is to save you from all the dumb decisions your hormone-flooded brain would make on its own."

Sure, there are lighthearted moments when they roll their eyes but still smile, and all is right with the world. But there are also moments when my teenagers think I'm the worst mom who has ever walked the planet: too strict, a know-it-all, dumb as a brick, unfair, pushy, smothering, overprotective... I'm sure there have been plenty of words thrown around in anger.

Just like I'm sure I threw plenty of them at my mom.

Just the other day after a particularly ugly blowout with one of our kids, my husband and I were talking. We were trying to figure out if we had handled things the right way, if we had managed to get through to our kid in any sort of meaningful way. The only thing that came to mind that made me feel like maybe I wasn't completely failing at this "mom" thing was a verse:

"Train up a child in the way he should go,
and when he is old he will not depart from it."
(Proverbs 22:6)

I'm a questioner and an over-thinker. I can't remember a time in my life when I ever felt certain I was doing things the right way. I question my abilities at work, as a writer, as a wife, and--most of all--as a mother. I can't help but wonder how much I'm messing things up, and I marvel at why in the world God would trust me with bringing up 5 of His children. I mess up regularly. I get things wrong. I say the wrong thing. I do the wrong thing.

But sometimes, I get it right. Sometimes I know the right words to say. Sometimes I know how much to push and how much to back off. Sometimes I get through to my kids in ways other people can't.

All the time, though, I know that God is working in their lives. I look at them and get glimpses of the potential they have, hints of the strong, amazing men and women they will hopefully become one day. I pray that, like Christ, they will grow "in wisdom and stature, and in favor with God and men." (Luke 2:52). I continually pray that they will be able to overcome my mess-ups and shortcomings to become men and women who chase after God. I pray that they will be mighty warriors in a world that is full of spiritual darkness and spiritual battles.

I will never be a perfect mom. I will mess-up. I'll say the wrong thing at the wrong time. I'll lose my temper. I'll misunderstand. I'll take things the wrong way.

But through it all, I pray my kids will always know that I would give my last breath to protect them. I hope they can see that, despite my failings, I'm doing my best to follow God while I'm leading them.

...but man, the teen years are hard!