Away from reality.
Hurt.
Anger.
Disappointment.
Crushing heartache.
In the last three days, I’ve felt all of these emotions and so many more. Parenting is indeed the the hardest thing a person will do.
It hurts my momma heart that my teenager so callously disregards rules put in place for his safety. That he cares so little for our thoughts and feelings he’s willing to face whatever consequences to simply do what he chooses; regardless of whether it’s right or wrong. And pointing it out, numerous times, the fact that anything could happen, seems to mean nothing.
It makes me angry, deep in my gut angry, how cavalierly he willing disregards the things we try to teach him. The disrespect that rolls off this kid is maddening. The time we take to try to teach him, to guide him only to be told by his own admission he wasn’t actually listening awakens the momma Hulk within me! I could feel my blood boiling behind my eyes when he uttered those words to my face.
But worse than the hurt and anger, is that lingering companion, disappointment. Disappointment is a sneaky friend who sits in the back of your mind, lingering on the outskirts of your mind. It slyly peeks out just when your mood is beginning to lift, just long enough to remind you it’s still around.
Countless times caught in lies and misdeeds yet no remorse. It’s all about what he feels, what he wants, what he decides he can do. Oh how I wish I could say we are horribly strict parents who don’t allow fun and demand perfection at all times. At least then some of the outlandish behavior would make sense. After all, kids rebel hardest against impossibly stringent rules. That’s not even the case! We allow our kids fun and freedom within reason. We encourage friendships and exploring self, but not at the expense of things like respect and concern for others.
What makes me sad is that he’s teetering on the precipice of adulthood and it’s frightening the direction he’s headed. Am I looking at my own prodigal son? Will he take off as soon as he’s of age, squander his life, end up hitting the bottom only to return home where he always belonged? The thought breaks my momma heart to pieces.
It’s a literal ache, this momma heartache. I feel it when I look at his pictures. When I walk past his room. When I put his laundry in his room or pick up his randomly misplaced socks. I feel it when I lay down and pray over my family at night. And when he walks out of the house to head to school. It’s my new constant companion, riding shotgun beside uncertainty with disappointment in he backseat pitching in its two cents. I’m a big ole momma mess.
I know that God has a path for him, for this situation. He knows what will happen. I wish I did too. But, I have to trust God. I have to give this too to God and know that it’s His will that will be done. My teenagers free will may terrify me and drive me to distraction, but God knows how this journey goes.
And while I settle myself and tell disappointment to hush up and stop clouding my mind, I will do all I can to have faith that this too shall pass and God will show up as he’s done time and time again.
My Lost Boy😔