Be Still and Know...Then and Now

My phone chimed with that familiar ring that tells me that my son is calling. I was slightly taken aback as it was disconnected the last time we tried to contact him. Alas the concept of his calling just to see how I was was shattered almost instantly as the first question out of his mouth was “Hey, mom has any mail come for me?” Now if you read between the lines what he was really saying was have any birthday cards with potential cash arrived in the mail for me. Even with self serving purpose for his call it was good to hear his voice and for the moment know that he is OK. So I give a giant thank you to my wonderful God for at least temporarily relieving my motherly concern with a very brief albeit selfish conversation with my beloved.

I have to share with all of you that I am in an unusual pace. For so long all I wanted was some peace and quiet. All I wanted was for the anxiety and the tension to be removed from my home. Thoughts like “I just want him out of my home!” would be daily occurrences’ in my conversations. Immediately after these kinds of thoughts I would feel like a horrible mother. But it did not make it any less true. After a while the well of your motherly compassion runs a bit dry after you have been verbally abused, taken advantage of and lied to for the millionth time. Your motherly compassion tends to be placed on the back burner when you find revolting reading material hidden under the sofa in his room. Your motherly compassion is beginning to run on fumes with every new lie or new situation you see him enter into that you find questionable or heartbreaking. But here is the strange part. For as much as I wanted the turmoil and deceit that his presence brought into our lives to be removed, I find t...

No warm fuzzes tonight. I have my house to myself finally. Everyone is asleep and I have a moment to myself. My accountability sisters and I have spoken about this many times. When you experience an extended period of emotional turmoil it becomes very similar to having a chronic illness. As I again digest this latest episode of turmoil and pain with my rebellious son I have to wonder what will come next. I m not looking forward to the next ten days (get a job or get another place to live, after five plus weeks of sleeping until 11:30 and little progress in the employment front we have as per usual had to hold his feet to the fire and actually hold him accountable for his actions) It would not matter if was the next thirty days for the result would not be any different. My conflict comes in wanting the tension, animosity, deceit and disrespect out of my home and wanting peace. My heartbreak at the grieving I am experiencing at the prospect of the life and the potential he is spitting on...

This small sentence from today’s “Streams in the Desert” really spoke to me. “We must not overlook the fact that faith on our part helps God to carry out His plans.” I have to ask myself how many times does my doubt or my fear of a situation or possible my unwillingness to be obedient hinder God’s plan? The truth is that God never needs my help, but He always wants me to yield to His plan. He always wants me to be molded into a more Christ like person. I am the clay and He is the Heavenly potter. I must be willing to submit to His molding, I must be pliable and allow myself to be shaped into whatever vessel He would have me be. It is my faith in Him that gives me the strength to proceed with a difficult task I may be asked to do. It is my faith in God that gives me the perseverance to continue to pray over a seemingly hopeless situation. It is my faith that will eventually turn my perception of hopelessness into an eternal truth that God’s promises never fail ( JER 21:44). It is that...

What a difficult question to ask and an even more difficult process to go through. As parents we get a front row seat in this painful mini-drama. Sometimes there is a lot of blood shed, weather physically or emotionally. There is usually pain involved, lots of change, and a very real revelation that as much as we want good things for our children there comes a time when we have to step back and pray that the process will not be to painful for them to experience and for us to watch. I keep looking at my son, who chronologically is almost 19 years old, but emotionally and maturity wise he is closer to being about 16. The synapses in his brain have not yet made the connection that allow for rational or logical thinking. He still is operating under the assumption that as long as I don’t get caught then everything will be just fine. He motto is “Why tell the truth when a lie will work just fine!” The other enduring quality is his penchant for physical labor. The path of least resistance is ...

Live with a rebellious teenager for five minutes and you will know drama, weather it’s the unexpected facial apparatus or the hysterical antics of an ex-girlfriend that you hoped was long gone, drama lives on. I will be setting up a concession stand in the driveway later this afternoon in hopes of off-setting the family income with popcorn and milk duds’ revenue. I may even sell my living room sofa on EBay an install a row of stadium seating and surround sound so that I may fully enjoy the experience.

I will preface this posting with a warning. There will be no uplifting words, no profound spiritual truths, no encouraging statements, no warm fuzzy moments. I will from time to time depart from being a rational logical mature woman in favor of a hormonal shrew who can find nothing good in anything what so ever. You see my “beloved” son waked through my door this afternoon with a chin piercing. I looked into his face and felt the gorge in my stomach rising up my throat. I paused momentarily trying to decide weather it would be necessary to sprint for the bathroom where I could vomit in peace or burst into tears at the sight of this foreign object jutting out of his chin. I am not even sure what to call this foreign object, except hideous, revolting, nauseating, disgusting, nasty and down right unattractive. I remember showering sweet kisses all over his tiny toddler face and now I can’t even stand to look at it. I know if I say anything negative it will give him the satisfaction of kno...