There's this decorative red lantern in your and your brothers' bathroom. I don't know what it represents to you or what memory it triggers, but when you arrived here you took issue with it...an issue you'd never admit to when I would confront you about it. Yet, I would find it hidden up high on a bookshelf in the playroom, then hidden out of sight above the medicine cabinet in the bathroom. Whenever I would put it back, I would find it moved again somewhere new and concealed. After your major heart shift in August and your decision for Jesus, however, this strange behavior just stopped...completely out of the blue. The lantern has gone three months unmoved, basking in its decorative role.
Until last week, when I found it missing once again and retrieved it from under the sink.
So weird. <"drop" photo face: bewildered>
I immediately flashed back to the mess of our relationship B.C. (Before your decision for Christ). Dread overwhelmed me. I somehow knew in my gut that this declared another spiritual war. I prayed over the lantern and your room and every other room in our home loudly. I asked for God to shed light on the darkness threatening you. And I warned Dad that the red flags were back up.
God wasted no time delivering a clue. Last week, our "spy" app revealed several inappropriate deleted texts on your phone, inappropriate pictures, a secret email account that you had somehow set up for yourself (even though internet and most apps were disabled), attempted calls to an unknown number in Ukraine, among other things that crossed every line we drew when we showed grace and gave you a second chance to be trusted this past fall.
Our hearts sunk and our frustration flared. You've been so wonderful at home: helpful, considerate, thoughtful, and generous. Sure, there were little things here and there (missing money, white lies, and boy-crazy giggles--typical teenager stuff), but nothing to indicate the grand scale of deception that was really going on behind the scenes. It hurt. Not your choices so much, as we expect a learning curve (People don't magically change overnight just because they became a Christian), but your decision to take advantage of our grace and outright abuse it while having a smile on your face the whole time. It's crazy. Literally. It makes us question everything...what's real Lucy and what's not? Does Lucy have a conscience?
And, of course, when Dad confronted you about it all (calmly, with love and concern) you took little responsibility despite the evidence in his hands that clearly proved your guilt. <photo face: red cheeks, bulging eyeballs, and steam blowing out of ears> Naturally, we then became the evil enemy again, destroying all of your hopes and dreams that were obviously stored in your iPhone 6.
I don't get it. Were we wrong to fight this battle? Was it a losing one? After all, she may act 12 but she is 17. Maybe we should give up on these behaviors for the sake of peace in the home and our relationship with you. These were all of the thoughts racing through my head as I prepared the bathwater to throw out with the baby. Thank Jesus He came to the rescue again. Dad's devotion for that day:
"Interestingly, it's actually through conflict that we can find real peace.
For example, when someone walks into a dark place and turns on a bright
light, it changes the entire dynamic. Through this conflict, through this
disagreement, the ultimate unity will come. Why? Because as a Christian, you
make people aware of their sin-and they don't like it one bit. You don't
even have to say anything, really. You're just being you as a Christian.
So don't be upset because there is a little conflict. Just hold your ground
and keep praying. This division can result in people thinking about their
souls, considering the claims of Christ, and then ultimately turning their
lives over to the Lord."
The very same day, I was reading in John 2:13-25 about Jesus throwing the merchants and moneychangers out of the Temple courtyard. Devotion for His Father's house consumed Him, leading Him to dump their coins and turn over all of their tables in a righteous rage. It hit me: our bodies are God's Temple now (1 Co. 6:19-20). And you were behaving in a way that was defiling your body and reputation. The frustration we feel inside really is rooted in our devotion for our Father and for you, Lucy. We needed to turn over your tables. It's not the fun part of parenting, that's for sure. But I see now that regardless of your reaction or opinion of us, our fight is justified. The fight is our call...the whole reason God brought you to us...to intercede for you...to show you a tangible example of His Love and Grace...to be vessels through which He can deliver His Light into your life. We often do a crummy job, yet I recognize now that it's not us you don't like; it's His conviction. When the Holy Spirit shines into our darkness, we all squirm because it's far from comfortable. But the battle isn't lost. In fact, it's already been won <3 You're not finished yet. We're not finished yet. Jesus is taking us all to the cleaners. ...SOOOO much shaping...
Love you, Lucska <3
Mom
