Psalm 121:1-3, "I will lift up my eyes unto the hills--from whence cometh my help?
My help cometh from the Lord, which made heaven and earth. He will not suffer thy foot to be moved; He that keepeth thee will not slumber."
My son does practically the same routine every morning: gets up, eats breakfast, gets dressed/picks up for the day, then starts his schoolwork. He also follows practically the same schedule every day when doing his schoolwork: reading, Bible, history, science, math and grammar/creative writing (he saves the one he hates the most for last). One day, I knew we had to leave super early that afternoon for a church about 1.5-hours away. So, I had everything laid out for him to do his schoolwork--in a different order. Well, that just started his day off on the wrong foot--like when I run out of coffee and didn't realize it until I go to make it. (I know right??!! How does that even happen??) Well, all morning long was a struggle. He was angry, aggravated, frustrated, and didn't want to do anything whatsoever. He talked back to me all morning and acted like I had just ruined his perfectly spoiled little life. At one point, while trying so hard to be patient during a math lesson, I had had enough. But, something grabbed a hold of me as I was just getting ready to tell him so, and I just told him to go to his room and sit on his bed until I came and got him. He walked off--stomping and mumbling--and I bowed my head and prayed: "Lord, help me help him." I just said it over and over again. I couldn't pray anything else. Nothing else would come into my head or out of my mouth. Nothing. And that's when the Lord reminded me--"hey, the reason he's upset right now is because his whole routine has changed. Everything. With no notice. And he's struggling today. Show grace, but also teach my Word." And we did that the rest of the day--because it lasted all.day.long. We disciplined as needed (because regardless of the reason, you're not going to mouth off at me and disrespect authority), but we also poured the Word over him, lovingly and prayerfully.
It hit me, though, during that prayer that it was so much different than the ones I had prayed in the past. Honestly, Ethan has always been a somewhat difficult child--he has always struggled with anger, bitterness (he can hold a grudge for years), and selfishness. In preschool, he was diagnosed with ADHD. In kindergarten, he was sent to the principal's office 28 times; 2nd grade, 25 times; 3rd grade, 4 times; and in 4th grade, 6 times (whew! It got so much better!!) At his kindergarten graduation, the administrator hugged him--the only one who crossed the stage that received a hug. He told us afterward, he needed that little boy to know that they loved him mightily and he was going to do great things. I just asked: so, he's allowed back next year, right?? But, during those days, of long, drawn-out battles of the wills (mine and his...mine is actually much stronger...), I remember praying almost in an exasperated, sarcastic way: "Lord, you made him and you gave him to me. So, I need you to show me what to do!" It was almost a desperate, immediate cry to fix it, even though my heart was truly pleading for wisdom. This time, however, I just felt different.
You see, even though Ethan has an innate desire to fight to the death to prove his point or get his way, he's needed that will to fight since the day he was born. He fought to be born; fought to survive; and fought asthma for nine years following. He's fought the inner struggles of being bullied and being the smallest kid in his classes (my little 11-year-old is all of 60 lbs. and still isn't tall enough to ride the biggest roller coasters at the amusement park with his friends.) And, now he's fighting the inner spiritual battle of loving the Lord, desiring to do His will, but longing for life the way it was. When he went to the same church every week; had the same friends; the same school; the same routine. Now, he's lived in three different countries, been separated from old and new friends, never has two days of the week that are the same, and has no children where we live with whom he can speak English. And, he's a pre-teen.....As I prayed this prayer, I truly prayed. I truly cried out in a way that I felt my son's life depended on it. Not the physical one, but the spiritual and emotional ones. The ones only God can do something about. I can--to an extent--protect and control his physical life. But, only God, can do His work in my son's heart. And, it was a prayer of surrender.
"Lord, help me help him. You created him. You created all of those qualities that have made it hard to parent at times. But, you also created some amazing qualities that make me stand in awe of him: a strong will (yes, that's actually a great quality!), a protective instinct, wit, humor, intelligence; he's loyal and has a tender heart. And, Lord, I truly need your wisdom; your perspective; your encouragement; to keep on keeping on. Knowing when to show grace and when to administer discipline. Understanding that this isn't a battle of me against him, but a spiritual battle that Satan wants to win. So, Lord, help me help him. Help me help him to see you. To see your character, your desire to give him the very best, your plan for him here in this ministry in Mexico, and your fierce love for him. Help me help him see your purpose that following it is a much better path to take than anything we could ever imagine. Help me help him, in everything. Lord, we need you."
When Ethan was born and taken by ambulance the next day to hospital over an hour away and I had to stay put at the hospital where he was born, I remember praying then: "God, he is Yours. Please, take care of him." I knew then that my boy was God's and God's alone. He is on loan to me for however long God sees fit. And, as I struggle as a mom so often as to whether or not I'm doing this thing right, he reminds me: "your help comes from me, the God who made heaven and earth. I will not sleep. I will not slumber. And, you will not be moved." He is our help.