We've had ourselves a pretty fun and festive Christmas weekend chock full of miscellaneous Christmas parties and festivities. I'll write more about those later but what I need to talk about now are the stinky teenagers living in my house. More precisely, one of the stinky teenagers.
Last night, one of the boys, who will remain nameless (Darius) went to dinner with his mentor and was dropped off at his friend Monkey's house to spend the night. Sounds fine doesn't it?
And fine would it have been had he not told Trey and I he was going to spend the night at his Momma's house. Momma and Monkey may start with the same letter but they are not the same person, or house.
Instead relaxing after our last Christmas party of the weekend we were tracking down Darius. This involved several late-night phone calls and a road trip for my very frustrated husband. Not exactly the way Trey wanted to end his Saturday night if you know what I mean. Wink. Wink. You know, watching the Office on TiVO in our pajamas. Tee hee hee hee. Wait. What did you think I meant?
Anyway, by the time they got home it was midnight and we all went to bed agreeing to talk about it in the morning after church. This was correctly interpreted by Darius who was up, showered and dressed, reading his bible by 7:05 a.m. Trey and I went to bed praying for wisdom beyond our years and experience and woke up praying for the ability to correct without condemning and asking how in the world were we supposed to discipline this one.
Our morning sermon was on the second coming of Christ and how we wait in anticipation, much like children at Christmas, for the gift that we know is coming. To be free of our fallen bodies and souls and see Jesus face to face is overwhelming. We, along with all of creation, groan with longing for a moment that will come like a thief in the night.
I don't think I've ever wanted Jesus to come back more. I wanted to be rescued from having to deal with a child who isn't mine but whom I loved like he is. Who had sinned against us in the same way I had sinned so many times against my own mother at his age. He was acting like a typical fifteen year old but, a year ago, we didn't have a fifteen year old and we didn't know exactly how to move forward. The four year old thing, we own that. We're pros. But fifteen, we got nothin'. I wanted His return to rescue me from relying fully on Him to handle a situation way beyond my experience in parenting.
Instead of returning, the Lord did something else that we have to trust is His perfect provision for now. He gave us boldness and wisdom to speak into this child's life in love and in honesty about what he had done and who he is. He gave us the ability to recognize that we weren't looking to catch Darius but, through a random series of events, he was found out because the Lord wanted to protect him from himself. His sin was exposed so that it would not compound upon itself and so that he could be reconciled.
This is a long road and we feel incredibly unequipped to handle what may lie ahead. I'm not using 'incredibly' or 'unequipped' lightly. Our prayer is that the Lord who's hand has been upon these boys, protecting them in the midst of chaos since they were born, will remain upon them, upon us all, and that, in our incredible weakness, His strength may be made perfect.
Or, that He would go ahead and come back right... now...or...now.