If you drove through the Panera parking lot at around noon today in Surprise you may have seen a puffy-eyed, blonde woman in a silver Edge, teetering on the edge of a full-fledged meltdown. I don’t mean like violent crazy meltdown. I mean sobbing and bawling like a two year old who just got placed in a stranger’s arms for daycare meltdown.
That woman’s tears were streaming down her face because she heard that familiar voice of discouragement saying, “What’s the point of even trying. They aren’t listening.” And she felt the pressure of the burning desire for her sons to not fight against her on everything. Especially not when she’s trying to teach them God’s ways. But the mileau of tension that is the our house seems to foster the growth of constant resistance and questioning. Not really even questioning. If what I got back from the boys when we read the Bible was a discussion that involved doubts, question, confessions of unbelief, etc. I could handle that. I have all those things. But when I get mocking, and eye-rolling, and mumbling, and then a barking response of, “This only applies if you actually believe there is a God anyway!!!” it’s enough to make a mom trying to do her best to point her kids the right way break down. Days like today feel like I’m trying to plant a garden in hardened, cracked soil. I need God’s rain on hard hearts.
It’s late now. And I’ve recovered. I’m in a hotel room with my boys tonight because the power is out at our house. My husband has had the power shut off since this morning to do something with the electrical box outside. We decided to get a room for the night for hot showers and light. Both my sons are too big to fit on one queen-sized bed. Since before they were born I’ve been praying for them. When each of them were growing in my womb I wrote scripture that Spirit impressed on my heart was sort of a theme for their life. From the time they were born I sang hymns and read aloud to them from the Bible. When they were learning about their A,B,C’s and colors and shapes I was teaching them about the love of God and telling them stories about Jesus. And they soaked it up. But in the span of the past 10 years they’ve been twice through the stress of their parents being separated and nearly divorcing. And they’ve seen and heard the pop cultures theme for them: do whatever makes you feel good. And have compared it with their mom’s theme for them: follow Jesus. You need him. And now they don’t just soak it in. They doubt. And question. And mock. And I’m tired.
But by the daily grace of God, new mercies every morning. I won’t quit.
And I’ll trust that whatever pushback I get now is not the end of the matter for my sons. It’s no mistake that God gave them a mom who loves Jesus. And it’s not in vain that I speak into their lives the truth and give up my life to love them.
‘Therefore, my beloved {moms}, be steadfast, immovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, knowing that in the Lord your labor is not in vain. ‘ 1 Corinthians 15:58
Sheila Dougal 
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