I woke up this morning at 2:14am.
My heart was so heavy-burdened for my 14yr old son who’s struggling with a bunch of hard stuff right now. It’s part of being a teenager. Part of the changes and challenges that come with it. Those feelings and doubts and questions that just come out of nowhere! It’s so hard for them – and us who love them.
We had stayed up late talking with him. Actually he didn’t do a lot of talking. A little grunt here and there. The glossy distant “you guys just don’t get it” look in his eyes broke my heart. We were all tired so I asked if I could walk with him to his room.
I only stayed a few minutes. Just long enough to pray with him, asking God to be real to Joshua now and protect his heart and mind. Asking Him to help Joshua and us navigate through this new phase as he becomes the young man God created him to be. It was good for my heart, and even if he doesn’t say anything now I know it’s good for him too.
I fell asleep praying. Then I woke up at 2am with deep concern again that left my heart tossing and turning. I have to say that being a mom is one of the hardest things I have ever done, and being a mom of a teenage boy is maxing me out. This is my first child – my little man whose sweet brown eyes and gentle heart changed me forever just 14 years ago.
All I could do was pray last night. It’s what I needed. It’s all I have. Talking to God is my only hope and comfort in the middle of the night. Or all throughout my day when life brings struggles that are more than I can handle.
I can’t talk my child out of how he’s feeling. I can’t just give him a promise from the Bible and hope it makes him happy again. I can’t deny what he’s going through or even figure it out for him. All I can do is pray. And listen. And pray some more. And love him. And pray some more.
I laid in my bed praying at 2am. After a few minutes, I felt God nudge my heart to go up to Josh’s room and kneel beside his bed.
As I tiptoed quietly into his room the moonlight peeked through his window shades and I could see his head resting on his pillow. He was sound asleep.
I thought about that verse that says God inhabits the praise of His people as I knelt beside him. I started silently praising God for Who He is hoping He’d somehow completely inhabit that room and squeeze all the enemies junk out! I asked God to please send more angels to watch over my child as he slept and as he awoke. Then I prayed God’s Word over Joshua – promises for courage and hope and strength and understanding for his seeking yet struggling heart. And I prayed the blood of Jesus over the doorposts of his room and our whole house commanding the enemy to back off and submit to God’s authority over our family and home.
A peace came over me as I lifted my son up to God’s able and caring hands. God’s comfort and calm washed away my worries as I lifted my tired self off that floor. And then I tiptoed back downstairs, crawled back into my bed, and fell asleep.
I had left the battlefield and the front line in capable hands with Jesus.
This morning when I woke up I found my son cooking bacon in the kitchen and making himself a bacon/toast sandwhich like nothing had happened the night before. I gave him a verse with his name in it to stick in his pocket and carry with him to school. He smiled and said good-bye, and then headed out the door with his dad.
I have a feeling I’m gonna be parenting on my knees a lot for the next several years. I know there’s no better place for me, but sometimes it’s a hard place to be…