Dear reader, my heart and soul are heavy as I write. An older child of mine has fallen for the world hook, line and sinker.
My mind thrashes around searching for answers I don’t have; my prayers go unanswered; the tension in the home is palpable; and I need Godly counsel in dealing with it.
Just 24 hours ago, he vocalised what we are increasingly hearing from others who are increasingly cynical or even leaving the church or ‘organised religion’. ‘I want nothing to do with church, it’s full of hypocrites,’ said he.
He was right. ‘Yes,’ I said; and something along the lines of: ‘It’s full of sinners who are imperfect but who are trusting God. Don’t throw out the baby with the bathwater.’ It sounded hollow.
‘I still believe in God,’ he said. Do I cling to that?
I do believe he is the Lord’s. I’ve seen the evidence over the years. He professed faith at a young age; he’s witnessed to many at school and college; he has reflected Jesus love in his life. He would often sit with me and we would go through some Scripture together. Was this a genuine faith? we ask ourselves.
The child is not happy, mind (that’s a good sign, surely?). He knows he’s unhappy; we know that; and he knows we know that – we remind him often. He’s chasing happiness where it cannot be found. And in his unhappiness, I’m a helpless observer, dragged down by powerlessness and frustration.
Too little....or too much?
Am I and his dad saying and doing too little to encourage him back to the Lord? To challenge him of the futility of a worldly lifestyle? Are we putting too much pressure on him to rethink his ways? Could we risk alienating him from us? How do we warn and challenge in an effective way and, crucially, in a loving way?
When do we speak and when do we be silent? There is no answer, except in the moment to send an arrow prayer for wisdom and the right words. And to maintain a good witness within the family.
It’s not the first time the world has proved a particular draw. Before the first lockdown started in March 2020, he was slowly being seduced by the world. Forced confinement at home and relative isolation from the world brought him to his senses.
‘I’ve realised the world doesn’t make me happy,’ he said to me one morning. I hear those words as clear as if I heard them yesterday. I was so thankful – not only because the Lord had restored him, but that he felt able to expose his thoughts to me.
Entrust it to Him
And today, as I write, I’m thankful for this recollection as it’s given me the necessary reminder that the Lord can do it again; and the power to do so is not mine. And therein lies that which we frequently forget: there’s only so much we can do – the rest we have to entrust to Him.
In the meantime, this is a challenge greater than any we’ve faced in our parenting years thus far. Broken nights and terrible twos; choosing schools and supporting children through exam seasons were nothing compared to this.
As I write, I’m taking comfort from acknowledging our child’s unhappiness. If he wasn’t truly a child of God, he wouldn’t be unhappy – would he? His spirit wouldn’t be troubled and he’d merrily carry on the path he’s on. I don’t rejoice in his unhappiness, that would make me a cruel parent. I want him happy in Christ.
The Lord has just reminded me of these words. ‘For my power is made perfect in weakness’ (2 Cor.12.9). When we are weak, He is mighty. If I embrace my weakness and my limitations and allow God to do the hard work, I can find peace in this turmoil.
Reader, please pray for us.
