Pimples, Ulcers, and Gin in the Cat Dish

A friend of mine is currently struggling through the early phases of a season of parenting known as oh-God-help-me-I-have-a-teenager-who-hates-me syndrome (AKA: adolescence).

The symptoms of OGHMIHATWHM syndrome are mostly exhibited by the child in question and encompass a great deal of eye rolling, moodiness, heavy sighs, general apathy, and extreme embarrassment at the very existence of her mother.

In her case, it is also accompanied by an equally as horrendous case of oh-dear-God-my-teenage-daughter-has-a-boyfriend syndrome (ODGMTHAB) and this particular affliction causes symptoms mostly exhibited in the parent in question such as hyperventilation, paranoia, headaches, ulcers, anxious prayers, irrational thinking, heavy drinking, and general desperation. Concurrent symptoms exist with the child in question and include declining grades, hours in front of the mirror, hair flipping, thumb strain (from texting), and starry eyes.

I've spent a lot of time with my friend lately and have observed the whole thing unfold before her horrified eyes. Just a few minutes ago, she held this wiggly infant girl in a swaddled bundle and looked adoringly at her, never dreaming this moment would come. Now, off she rockets into the world, leaving her fretting mother in her wake. Just listen, child… I have so much to tell you. There is so much you have to learn for what's ahead of you.

I look at my oldest son, who will himself cross over that coveted 13th birthday this summer, breaking the rite-of-passage marathon tape and probably hurdling me headlong into my own case of OGHMIHATWHM. These two babies used to play together, watched cartoons and toddled around in diapered butts together, but now they're walking time-bombs… pimpled monsters of their own making. And I'm about to join the ranks of shell-shocked parents everywhere, looking longingly at their infant children dangling car keys and squealing out of sight.

So, there's that. (Cheers.)

Being the still cool and collected outsider in the whole debacle has given me a bit of perspective and unfortunately, a clear view into the mirror. I'm a few decades past my own eye-rolling, pimple-popping, boy-swooning days but I imagine, in God's eyes, I haven't grown up all that much.

Here's my loving parent, walking me through life with compassion and grace, teaching me, guiding me, giving me wisdom for every situation, and here I am, rolling my eyes at His ways, smacking my gum and trying desperately to go my own way.

I know He's immune to the paranoid delusion that accompanies parenting teenagers, but I wonder still if I wound His heart with my rebellion… if my desperate attempts at being liked by others, at seeking after my own happiness whether it's good for me or not causes Him grief… or as Anne Lamott says, "makes Jesus want to drink gin straight out of the cat dish."

When He longs for me to turn my heart to His, I flip my hair and roll my eyes and pick up my cell phone to text a friend. When His book of wisdom sits collecting dust, I whine to my friends about my troubles, simple unable to imagine a way out of the mess I've made of things. He stands waiting in the wings and I turn my back in rebellion to find my independence, to make my own way.

My friend's daughter will grow out of it. They'll find their footing in the awkward stage of adolescence and eventually, she'll be grateful for her mom's tireless presence in the midst of her toughest years. Or at least, she'll need a ride to the mall.

But I wonder if I'll ever grow out of it. Will I ever draw close enough to my Father's heart that my own ways don't glitter with intrigue? Will I ever grow out of the awkward dance of being young enough to still need Him but not always wanting Him in charge?

Father, forgive me for my spiritual adolescence, for needing you and wanting your gifts, but chasing after my own ways. Help me to have faith like a child but the wisdom of maturity to hold tight to your hand when my desires lead me astray. 

Laughter and a Million Joys to Find

Sometimes, the hard plastic bench at a fast food joint with free Wi-Fi and sweet coffee feels like a soft bed… a peaceful retreat.

I headed out early this morning for some hours without little people, and I'm chuckling ironic at the flood of lunch-hour teenagers that surround me here.  Seems I can't escape, but as I listen to the laughter, I'm spurred back to life and I remember myself at that age, how easy it was to find things to be happy about, when the weight of the world was crushing around me and yet, I carried a tin lunch box and wore plaid golf pants just because it made me smile, and time spent with a handful of friends could cause uproarious laughter.  I wonder how long it's been since I laughed that hard. 

I wonder when I became a grown-up.

And in the cackle of this social experiment otherwise known as lunch break, when I can breathe in long and deep the aroma of French fries without any tiny hands on me, that I nearly want to crack a wide smile and remember that there are a million sources of joy to be had… that one only has to be aware.

I catalog… those million joys…those thousand gifts…and count them, one by one, with Ann.

-- Errands and writing time all by myself this morning, a chance to breathe

-- Getting a doctor's appointment at the last minute

-- A few more things to try on the way to wellness

-- Having health insurance

-- Beautiful sunny weather that excites me for spring

-- Lung-fuls of clean air

-- A fun new photo app on my phone

-- A lazy SuperBowl gathering at moms

-- Sweet potatoes

-- The rest of the day off, feeling well enough to catch up on housework

-- Toddler kisses, in high supply these days

-- Open windows, breezy days

-- Finishing Genesis in my in-depth study, moving on to Exodus

-- My 'Keep Calm and Love Mercy' bag from Relevant, with proceeds to The Mercy House

-- My blog reader, a ready source for inspiration and encouragement always at the ready, always ready to fill me up

-- Mt. McLaughlin, snow-capped in my rearview, blinding and beautiful

-- Comfort in cast-offs

-- A tax refund to come, this week

-- Free Wi-fi

-- Things I'm free to release from my life, and more to come on that, dear readers

-- Laughing teenagers, an inspiration to smile

-- The longing that returns me to the Word, over and over to fill my cup and then some

-- Losing track of time