13

We’ve done this twice before —3 times if you count the one we parented through the opening bells of the teenage years over phone lines and in two-week increments in country.

Still, we’re not pros. Not even close.

When the delightful, fun coin of thirteen flips on its head, when the new-found logic, the suddenly developing understanding of the world tanks and all that’s left are hormones and “no one understand me,” and a kid who can’t see outside of himself …

We fail. We fail a lot.

We forget what it is to be thrust into expanding expectations, to be held accountable for things so new to us. We forget how hot the anger burns when it’s fueled by the “adult” chemicals God awakens in our bodies just as we’re getting this “kid” thing down. We forget how hard it is to hold our tongue in the face of injustice, or to care about the Lego creation of a 5 year old when you’ve just discovered the thrills of the bass guitar.

We snap. And we make it worse, not better.

Then we see the child in front of us and we realize how great is the trust God has placed in us, that He allows us to usher His precious ones forward towards their purpose in life, to hold their hands as they work out their salvation with fear and trembling, to try to fit their feet into the footsteps ahead of them on the path.

We remember what it was to be 13, and we want, so very badly, to get it right.

So, we say the four things that we know to be truth, and we hope that somehow, in some way, they take root:

You are not alone. We know from Scripture that Satan hunts like a lion, separating sheep from the flock so that he can pounce upon them. His lie to teens is ageless: You are the only one. No one understands you. No one has ever felt the things you feel. Your family can’t possibly get you right now. None of this is true, sweet child. You are never alone. Never. You have the support of those who love you most. But even more so, you are upheld by God Himself.

You are not different. Unique, yes. But different? No. This same path has been walked literally billions of times in the history of the world. Even though you can’t hear it right now, I assure you that every adult you see in your life has felt the things you are feeling, and made a choice: embrace the chip Satan wants to place on your shoulder, or shake it off. One is a path to frustration, the other to freedom. Here’s the best part — you get to make the choice, anew, with every interaction.

You are not as smart as you think you are. The world is suddenly huge, suddenly opening up in waves with a newfound ferocity. And you are digging in. You’re uncovering new facts and feelings and getting your hands dirty with the work of grappling with a whole body of knowledge that you never knew existed. That’s great. But the trash still needs to be taken out. As a matter of fact, the smarter you are, the more likely you need to take the trash out. Because while it is actually quite easy to glean understanding of many things of the world, character is one lesson best mastered through the act of serving, again and again. A book can’t teach you to be humble.

We are going to get through this — together. It’s a rough patch, a rocky season. No one is denying that. But we’ll get through it. We aren’t giving up, and we won’t let you give up, either. It’s our job to encourage, to guide, to reprove, to illuminate the effects of your behavior (good and bad). It’s your job to remind us that you’re growing up and need to try your wings just that little bit more, and to listen. Listen hard. Listen to wisdom. Listen to the people God has placed as examples in your life. But most of all, listen to Him. Because child, these are the days of chrysalis that can find you emerging at their end with a purpose that will send you on the journey that might find you training for the good works God planned in advance for you. Don’t worry: if you miss the boat, He’s not done with you. But I do believe that this is His Plan A, this is His introductory course to Who You Are and Why I Put You Here. I believe this, and it’s part of my job to help you embrace that.

So here we go. Four teens in process, five more (to date) to go. Such an amazing gift to watch them learn so much about themselves in such a short window. And such a humbling experience to remember, all over again, all the joys and pains of those “becoming” years. Raising teens takes more prayer and more grace than I ever imagine, but as always, I know I do not walk this path alone.