I don't want to raise a good child...

It seems as though I am in constant prayer for my sons Blake, 15 and Jordan, 11.  Being a Momma of a 15 year old is NOT EASY I tell ya.  I am always praying that I find the right way to reach him, the golden ticket of motherhood that would magically give me the answers I so desperately want/need. It's a delicate balance for me. One definition for Independence in Webster's is defined as this: "Not looking to others for one's opinion or guidance in conduct."  ( Ummm...did I see a picture of my son behind that sentence?  Okay, well maybe my eyes were playing tricks on me...but I could've swore...anyway - back to the regularly scheduled blogging)


 I subscribe to Lysa TerKeurst from Proverbs31.org and she wrote something today that really hit the mark for me.  Maybe it will for someone else too.

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I don’t want to raise a good child

My daughter, Hope, is a senior this year.  And she decided her senior year should be adventurous and a little out of the “normal” box.  A lot out of the box actually.
She withdrew from traditional school.  Applied with the state to homeschool. Enrolled in on-line college courses that would allow her to get both high school and college credit simultaneously. And planned to spend the month of January serving in Nicaragua doing missions.
This didn’t surprise me really.  Because Hope has always like charting her own course.
When she was really little I was scared to death I was the world’s worst mom, because Hope was never one to be contained.  And I honestly thought all her extra tenacity was a sign of my poor mothering.
One day I took her to the mall to meet several of my friends with toddlers to grab lunch.  All of their kids sat quietly eating cheerios in their strollers.  They shined their halos and quoted Bible verses and used tissues to wipe their snot.
Not Hope.
She was infuriated by my insistence she stay in her stroller.  So, when I turned away for a split second to place our lunch order, she wiggled free.  She stripped off all her clothes.  She ran across the food court.  And jumped in the fountain in the center of the mall.
Really nothing makes the mother of a toddler feel more incapable than seeing her naked child splashing in the mall fountain.  Except maybe that toddler refusing to get out and said mother having to also get into the fountain.
I cried all the way home.
Not because of what she’d done that day.  But rather because of how she was everyday.   So determined.  So independent.  So insistent.
I would beg God to show me how to raise a good child. One that stayed in her stroller.  One that other people would comment about how wonderfully behaved she was.  One that made me look good.
But God seemed so slow to answer those prayers.  So, over the years, I changed my prayer.  ”God help me to raise Hope to be who you want her to be.”  Emphasis on, “God HELP ME!”
I think I changed my prayers for her because God started to change my heart.  I started sensing He had a different plan in mind for my mothering of Hope.
Maybe God’s goal wasn’t for me to raise a good rule following child.  God’s goal was for me to raise a God-following adult.  An adult just determined and independent and insistent enough to fulfill a purpose He had in mind all along.
I don’t know what mama needs to hear this today.  But let me encourage you from the bottom of my heart with 3 simple mothering perspectives you must hang on to:
1.  Don’t take too much credit for their good.
2.  Don’t take too much credit for their bad.
3.  Don’t try to raise a good child.  Raise a God-following adult.
And all the mamas of fountain dancing children said, “Amen!”

That is some good advice!  I am going to let that roll around in my mind and heart today.  

God, change me to stop being so fearful of how he's going to turn out and start thanking you for the person You are molding him to be.  

I'm sure there will be more blogs about my kids.  They are my life.  Jordan - the soon to be 12 year old seems so easy compared to this soon to be 16 year old...haha!  They are good kids and I thank God everyday for them.  Heck, THEY are making ME the person that I am constantly being re-shaped and molded into.