What a month it had been. Our strong-willed warrior-son had been pushing at the boundaries. Trying day after day to find the edge. How far could he push us? Mrs. Y? God?
I think in some ways he was also testing his own heart. Did he even want to obey? What kind of character did he really want to pursue? What does it mean (really) to be under another’s authority?
It was an exhausting time for all us. Then came the final most difficult hurdle of all (for that season, anyway).
“If you get another warning at school this week, you won’t be allowed to go to Dalton’s sleepover.” Solemn words from father to son. Caleb knew he was serious.
Two days creeped by and there were no warnings from Mrs. Y. We rejoiced with him, relieved to have a break from the struggle.
“One more day, Buddy.” High fives on a Friday morning. Words of strength and honor uttered between them as Dad sent him off to tackle his day and his choices.
Then came 3:15 p.m. My hopeful expectation turned to sorrow as I watched him round the corner in a cloud. There would be no high fives this time. Only defeat. Eyes downcast. Shoulders slumped. “Mom, I got a warning today. Could you talk to Dad? Please don’t take away the sleepover…”
The walk home was an agonizing one. My heart teetered back and forth. Were we too harsh to tie it to the sleepover? His four best buddies would be there. They were to sleep in the backyard. It was to be his first non-family sleepover. Ahhh, but no. I knew that we had to follow-thru. He needed to feel the weight of his own choices. It was truly better for him this way.
By the time we arrived home, I knew what would have to be done. But, oh, how I wanted to give in and just let him go. Had it been up to me alone, I probably would have gone against my better judgment and given in.
Mostly out of ease. I knew it was going to be a long, hard night. The weight of it hadn’t hit him yet because he was still hoping we would reconsider. But, when the final word came down, I knew he would be distraught. The pit in my stomach revealed my angst. I really just wanted to avoid the whole, big ordeal.
But, thankfully, it wasn’t up to me alone. Rick and I were in it together. He would lead our family well, with vision for the bigger picture. And, I would be his helper, coming alongside to encourage.
Later that evening, when I came to sit with my sobbing son (it had been hours of all this emotion), I looked at him and said simply “Son, we’re following through on this because we love you. I just want you to remember that.” He looked up, unconvinced. In his mind, the most loving thing would have been to sweep it under the rug and let him go to Dalton’s. He had no idea how hard it was for us to love him beyond that to the deeper places of his developing character.
Every mother wants her children to be happy. A lot of times the best stuff does bring them happiness. But, sometimes the best stuff is the hard stuff. It’s making them drink milk when they’d rather have soda. It’s encouraging them to read when they’d like to watch TV. It’s following through in discipline when they’d rather receive leniency. It’s looking down the road into their future when they’d rather be gratified today.
Jesus’ love is like that sometimes. Sometimes we ask for things that aren’t really best for us. Sometimes He says “no” when we’re pleading for Him to say “yes.” He reminds us that He loves us and that His way is for our best. We look up, often unconvinced.
Of course, loving like Jesus means that the truth is always coupled with grace. Sweet, unmerited favor. Even in the saddest, most disappointing of places, there is grace.
Eventually our Caleb was able receive that grace. Later that night we laughed together some and had a family night. He was still sad whenever he thought about his friends all there together and him here at home. But, he wrestled through it in the context of our love and grace (albeit imperfect love).
And, would you believe, the discipline began to bear fruit. Something was born in his growing character that weekend. Oh, he still gets warnings from time to time. But, they are fewer are farther in between now.
That exhausting season had finally come to a close.
I know this won’t be the last bout with a rebellious attitude. But, I pray that this mother’s heart will keep learning to love like Jesus: full of grace and truth. Even when the answer has to be “no.”
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Reflecting on loving like Jesus with other bloggers in Ann’s quiet corner of the internet…
Is it an understatement to say that sometimes things don’t turn out the way that we expect? Sometimes? Ha!
Maybe it’s just better when things don’t turn out as we expect. When our plans get foiled and we’re forced to take “second-best”. Just maybe.
And, do you know that with the air conditioning running, we never even heard or felt that train rush by anyway…
I was cooking up Maddie’s favorite meal: mac n’ cheese.
But, I think it’s really sort of a cruel joke. You see, I pride myself on meals made from scratch and secretly mock things like refrigerated cookie dough. (Sorry to you dear friends who use it. Now you know that I’m mocking you.) For goodness sake, I even whip my own cream most of the time. I like natural ingredients and make an attempt to avoid preservatives and boxed stuff. (Which, is not an easy task in modern-day America.)
