I Never Imagined

I never imagined this would be my first "family" post. I assumed my first post on this blog would be a light, fluffy introductory posting.

Not so.

Last night, Wednesday, July 19, 2006, my 18 year old son decided in a fit of anger that he "would never sleep another night" in our house.

Of course his fit of anger was matched by my own. What a pathetic excuse of an example to a young man! There was even a bit of a wrestling match, which is pretty stupid on my part even if you ignore the "role model" aspect I was supposed to be displaying. I'm almost 5' 10" and beginning to feel my age. My son is almost 6' 4", athletic, and beginning to feel his age.

In response to his declaration of independence, I told him he would not be allowed back into the house until he cleared it with me first. Of course that was a lie, the implication anyway.

How did it ever come to this? I was supposed to be the "good cop" in our family environment. His mother has always been the worrier, concerned about this friend or that activity. Her sometimes accusatory probings often resulted in arguments between the two. I was the one who always tried to remind her that Wes is a genuinely good boy and that he was not lurching to the dark side.

I would also try to convince my son that he should respect his mother even if he disagreed with her and was upset with her. After all, she is his mother.

It's not that we have a brawling family. The vast majority of the time we truly enjoy one another's presence. We have fun together. But occasionally ...

I thought last night would be just like the other times. Mom was mad. Wes was mad. I would try to calm the situation. I only meant to plead to his hopefully still existent sense of respect for his mother. But I detected disrespect toward me.

For some reason that set me off. I have a temper, too! I've tried to work on that for years now. By God's grace I almost never lose my temper any more. I thank God for that. It's truly been a blessing to our family. But I'm not perfect in that area and there have been tantrums scattered through the years.

I shoved. He shoved back. We wrestled around on our feet a while. Then, thank God, we stopped as I think neither of us wanted to escalate the situation.

I'm so ashamed. I'm so sorry.

I'm going to let him do whatever he wants to do. He's 18. What else can I do? But I hope to see him this evening as I take some of his things to him at his friend's house. I pray that he will be willing to receive my apologies. I pray that I can communicate them well and with all humility.

I pray that he understands he is ALWAYS welcome in our home. It's his home, too.

If anyone reading this knows the Lord Jesus Christ, and if you are so inclined, please pray that healing comes to our home. This is not the way I imagined sending my son off into the great, wide world.