I recently read the testimony of one of my children, and it rocked my world. Not only because of the life-changing transformation that Christ had done in their life, but the fact that I had nothing to do with it.
As I read the testimony and the words written about me, tears streamed down my face. She couldn’t handle my disbelief. Her anger scared me. I stopped asking questions. I learned how to avoid stepping on eggshells. These were daggers to my heart.
What had I done? What kind of mother had I been? What other damage did I cause my children? I wondered why they would even choose to have a relationship with me, even now. All these years, I thought I had done an okay job as a mom. But now I had an overwhelming feeling I had missed the mark.
In 2021, our lives were shattered with the death of my husband. For a year, I was on autopilot. I was barely keeping my head above water and the single parenting gig was too much to bear. I remember a day when one of my children and I got into a heated argument that left me in tears. I cried from South Alabama until we reached home, hours later. My heart was broken into so many pieces after hearing that they weren’t sure they believed in God. All of that work, all of those prayers, the many days of homeschooling, catechizing them, family worship, all for nothing. What had we done wrong? Why the unbelief? Again, mistakenly making it all about me and what I had done or not done.
Looking back over the last 20 years, a lot of my parenting was in fear. I feared them making the same mistakes I had made, and their father parented the same. No dating. No phones. No bikinis. No talking to anyone of the opposite sex. And the list of nos was pretty lengthy. But, I blamed a lot of it on him. After he died, I wanted to parent differently. I wanted to discipline and raise my babies with more grace.
So, when this heated debate took place, I was deeply offended my child felt this way. I was barely keeping my head above water as a single mom and to hear such words felt like an attack on my parenting. I became angry. I just wanted my baby to spend eternity with me. That’s always been my deepest desire for all my family
and friends, especially my children.
As moms, we struggle and doubt that we are doing it right. Most of the time, we are winging it on a cold cup of coffee and a prayer. We read all the books, listen to all the podcasts, cry to other mamas, and attend seminars to make us better moms, but we still fail. Daily.
So to be called out for the damage I may have caused in my child’s life was more than I could bear. I allowed myself to believe the lie that I was not good enough. My child never intended to make me feel this way, but my feelings overtook me. I stayed in my pajamas all day, questioning why God would put them in my home to begin with, and why He chose me to be their mom. I had failed Him and them. As I went to bed, I cried and my heart ached. Again, I allowed my feelings to be in control. Slippery slope.
I woke up thinking of the testimony and still couldn’t shake the fact that I could have pushed my child so far away from the Lord. But, honestly, that is giving myself too much credit. It’s not about me. It was never about me. Good or bad parenting, none of it. It’s all about Him.
You see, the salvation of my children and their beliefs have nothing to do with me. I am not the one who saves them. I am instructed to train them up in the way they should go, and when they are old, they are not to depart from it. But, unfortunately, I took it a step further and added my own interpretation when raising them. I added to His Word and forgot that God is sovereign. Their belief and their faith is a gift from the Lord, not me. They can’t ride on the coattails of their parents. Their faith is their own and He orchestrates all of it. He saves despite the messed up belief system I tried so hard to instill in them.
Am I here to direct them? Teach them? Bring them up in the fear and admonition of the Lord? Absolutely! But I am not to be angry, demeaning, or unapproachable and expect them to respond affirmatively without opposition, just because I said so. The hearts of my children belong to the Lord. Their very being belongs to the Lord.
I am reminded of the parable of the talents. I fear I am the one who took what he was given and hid it. Don’t misunderstand me and think I regret home-educating my children, that’s not the point. It’s about being so dogmatic and expecting them to believe the same way I believe and to do things the way I think should be
done. I never gave them a chance to question their belief system. It was my way or the
highway.
I thought I was doing this out of love, but I wasn’t being loving at all. My child was too afraid to speak up, express doubt, and just be real with their feelings. I led them to lead a life full of lies where they lived in fear of the unknown of how I would react.
It’s all in His timing. His ways are not my ways. His thoughts are not my thoughts. He has mercy on who He will have mercy. Sure, I am to plant the seeds, but it is Him that causes them to grow. And I am so very thankful that He brings people into their lives—outside of me—who could show His grace and teach them where I missed the mark.
I was reminded by my precious friend to view the last couple of days as a huge blessing. My child knew I would read the testimony. But, my dear child felt safe in sending me that text, knowing I needed to hear it. I am sure it was hard to hit that little blue arrow, knowing a ticking time bomb could be at the receiving end. I am proud of my child for being honest. And they didn’t send it to me to make me feel bad about myself or to tell me I am a horrible mother.
I refuse to believe the lies of the enemy that I am not a good parent. I have loved my babies with every ounce of my being, and we have had a great life, no matter the circumstances. I know my children love me. And I know they know I love them. I remember when my oldest was younger, I attended a Sally Clarkson retreat on mothering. Six months later, I was angry and yelled at her. She looked up at me with those big gray eyes with her two fingers in her mouth, holding on to her taggy blanket, and said, “Mommy, do you think you need to go back to that retreat and learn how to be a better mom again?”
I sat on the floor in front of her, with tears streaming down my face, and asked her to forgive me. She did.
So after reading this beautiful testimony of the faithfulness of God in my child’s life and how He has built beauty from ashes, I am taken back to that day on the kitchen floor. Tears streaming down my face, much like that day, in complete humbleness and brokenness. I pray that my children will forgive me for my shortcomings, my failures, my mistakes, and for not getting it right. I truly do love them with every ounce of my being and will until my last breath.
So for the mom out there questioning her existence and her parenting skills . . . you aren’t going to get it all right. You are going to fail. You are going to make mistakes. You will never be perfect. But give yourself some grace. Ask your kids for grace and their forgiveness, often. And I bet you, they will be quick to give it. Listen to your babies. Give them room to speak, to ask questions, to doubt, and to just be honest—even if it hurts.
Quit putting pressure on them to be something maybe you weren’t or being fearful of them making the same mistakes you made growing up. They are going to fall, but they are also going to fly.
Be quick to ask forgiveness. Be humble and be okay with them seeing you fail and be broken. But let them also see you lean on and trust the one who is in control, who makes all things new. He is always faithful.
Remember to trust your children to a sovereign God who loves them more than you do, and remember, He loves you too. He created them. They were made in His image.
Pray for your babies. Pray to see them through God’s eyes. Pray for their hearts, that He would save them. Pray for forgiveness for where you have tried to take control, and forgive yourself for not getting it right—you won’t this side of glory. And be okay with hearing tough words because those words lead to life, repentance, and a change of heart. And that is good. He is good.
by Amanda Crews 
