‘I have become the mother of a teenager, I don’t want her teen years to be as painful as mine were’

Less than a month ago, I became mum to a thirteen year old daughter. There’s no ravenous wolf pack or stranger in the night menacing me, only the reflection of myself; prettier, wiser, with the mixed blessing of hindsight, staring back in the mirror. Only it isn’t me actually, it’s my beloved, blossoming girl. The clouded murkiness of my own regretful past transgressions has distorted my vision.

Thirteen years ago I came home from the hospital with an 8.12 ounce bundle of princess secure in my arms. My new life’s reality tinted by hormones, sleeplessness, and testy spousal relations, it became natural to drift through new-motherhood on a wing and a prayer.

We’re in a new season now, she’s taller than me in stature and the world that beckons her is exponentially more threatening.

We’re in a new season now, she’s taller than me in stature and the world that beckons her is exponentially more threatening. Parenting today can seem more angst ridden than the nightly news. Yet, scarier than the threats from the world are the threats from within me. I have more than a touch of PTSD from my own teen years - sexual abuse, in-patient mental health treatment, substance abuse, promiscuity, toxic relationships, a strained teenage bond with my own mum; feeling as though I’m doomed to relive my own agonizing teen journey vicariously through my teenager rekindles some of my deepest seated fears. The enemy wants me to believe the worst about myself, about God, and to superimpose those lies onto my daughter. Yes, she’s a masterpiece, but aren’t I a recipe for disaster?

I have more than a touch of PTSD from my own teen years - sexual abuse, in-patient mental health treatment, substance abuse

Facing these uncomfortable truths about becoming a teen mum is challenging. It’s easier for me to hide under the miraculously transformational aspects of my testimony, like my radical conversion in my 20s. There’s another aspect of our faith that is transformational over time, through trust and obedience as we work out our salvation with fear and trembling. This sanctifying facet doesn’t happen with the snap of a finger, but as we grow gradually into mature Christians. Our overcoming lives in this fallen world require problems, trials and suffering. My daughter won’t meet the exact challenges I did. Our childhood experiences are extremely different. Yet there is still no way to pray her completely out of wrong choices, bad company or grave circumstances. She has to live her own life as an individual. Even my spending 24/7 in the prayer closest, neglecting all the other issues of life, wouldn’t guarantee her (or me) out of life’s difficulties.

There is an aspect of Christian parenting that requires letting go. Think of the father of the prodigal son’s response to his boy’s flagrant foolishness. He didn’t yell, stomp his sandals or cunningly manipulate. Patiently, self controlled, with trust in His Father, he gave his son what he asked for, there to meet him with open arms when he returned, humbled and repentant. Godly people like Samuel, David and the godliest of parents, our Abba Father, all had children that went the wrong way. Raising a teenager causes me to recognize I’m not ultimately in control and that is a humbling feeling. I’m reminded I get to trust God, to exercise my faith here, in the present. I get to be Abraham carrying my promise to Mt. Moriah only to find God’s faithfulness waiting.

Recognizing the grip that trauma’s left over from my own teen years, I can counteract it with faith (fear kryptonite). My faith is not in my own ability to parent perfectly. Faith comes by hearing the Word of God, so I remind myself it’s God’s character I trust in, the God who makes crooked paths straight, provides streams in the desert, is doing a new thing not yet perceived. He breathes life into dry bones, calls the dead back to life, gives beauty for ashes and is the restorer of locust ravaged years.

For me, the gift wrap of becoming a teen-mum is taped and folded around potential conquered fears, opportunities for strengthened trust, humility in asking for prayer, fasting and a whole gamut of other exercises in spiritual maturity. Sometimes through great miracles and sometimes in small increments from day to day, I’ll get to experience God’s faithfulness, even when in my frailty as a parent, I’m unfaithful, for he can be no other way. That’s comforting truth, for this mum and my teen.