I have no idea what I’m doing.
I have a pre-teen and I don’t know what I’m doing.
I didn’t know how to have a newborn 12 years ago either, and somehow I figured it out. Will I figure this new season out too?
You know what’s rotten? Being the firstborn. Sometimes I really feel sad for Asa that he has to be the one for me to learn on. Someone has to be the one.
I look back on several things I’ve done as I’ve tried to figure out how to be a parent.
Sometimes I feel like throwing myself down in front of him and crying, “I’m so sorry, Asa. I shouldn’t have put so much pressure on you about that. I didn’t know how ridiculous I was being. I just didn’t know.”
Somehow he has survived my lack of knowing how to do this job and has turned out to be a really neat kid.
But now we’re entering this new stage and it’s weird. It’s different.
He’s entering that kid-to-adult stage. He’s starting to try to figure himself out. It’s really neat, but no, not really. Oh, but yes…it really is.
I did not enjoy that stage of my own life. How do I help my son figure it out?
You know what I’ve decided is really easy? Doing laundry. Cooking meals. Washing mountains of dishes.
But raising children? Loving your kids so much that it hurts? Trying to walk your kids through life’s changes and challenges?
Exhausting. Confusing. Painful. Frustrating.
But joyful.
And fun. And crazy. And hilarious. And super cool.
I have no idea what I’m doing. I’ve spent more time in prayer about my parenting abilities in the past few weeks than I have for the entire past twelve years.
I’m so thankful that while I feel completely clueless, I serve a God who loves me enough to offer grace and unconditional love. Oh, the comfort of knowing that I’m being guided by the Perfect Parent.
Maybe I’ll be able to handle this after all.






