Beautiful, are they?

    No, these were not from Curtis, though he's supplied me with many beautiful bouquets over the years.  No, they're not from my Daddy.  So, let me share the story, if you will.  It's not just the roses that were beautiful that day.

    Being a parent requires discernment, patience (we all know that), insight, wisdom, and strength.  Strength of heart, strength of faith, strength of character, and in a nutshell, more of all of this than I bargained for!  I love to spoil my children, in definition: not giving in to their tantrums, or allowing nonsense hissy-fits, but I do love making them happy.  I love it when something works out that blesses them, and blesses me, too.  I love finding the thing that makes them tick, and supplying that in abundance, if at all possible.
 
    What's hard is when the thing that makes them tick is not what you can agree to, supply more of, or in all honesty....support.  Typically, when they're young, I can easily steer them into something else that fills that little cup-o-happy, but as they grow older, that cup only gets filled if they want it filled, and sometimes not by you.  The ultimate goal is for them to learn to go to God to fill that desire for whatever it may be, from finding a good friend, to diving into a hobby or sport, to eventually finding and securing a vocation and a spouse.  And.....hopefully, in that very order.




    Curtis Wade has been a sucker for video games since he was young.  Yes, I admit that Daddy and I introduced them into our home when the older ones were little, playing them hours on end ourselves.  We ended the insanity after Curtis (Daddy) stayed up until 3:00am in the morning tackling all of the levels of a game that had been swiped clean off of the memory card.  He got done, realized he had to get up to go to work the next day, realized the time he had wasted to gain absolutely nothing in this life, and began calculating the hours in the past months he had spent moving electrons around on a screen, unavailable to his wife or kids for the spontaneous chat, unless of course, they played alongside him in a duel, which was rare, causing the game to go slower than the thrilling break-neck speed he could muster alone.  Nothing in the real world accomplished, making absolutely no progress in any goal or project he had going, and more importantly, no relationships nurtured.  Sure, it was much needed down time.  But, this kinda down time only demands more, and more, and more, with no end in sight. 

    We took all games out when Curtis Wade was 13, much to his dismay.  He wasn't in trouble, he had done nothing wrong, we just saw the lavish amount of time he was growing accustomed to spending on video games.  Life outside the screen became dull and boring.  Interacting with his siblings became difficult and challenging.  He didn't seem happy, or satisfied unless he was holding a controller.  We knew God had more for him than this, and the only thing we could think of to bring a little perspective was to take them out completely.  He actually had tears in his eyes, bringing tears to our own, as we realized the emotional hold these things had on him.  He was devastated.

    But, life got better, for him, for us, and for the kids in general.  He found new pleasure spending time with real people doing real things in a real world.  And, so we carried on three more years.  He was such a good kid, and had worked through several attitude adjustments, learning how to respect us even when he disagreed, and fulfilling his chore requirements in a timely manner, etc.  I wanted to reward him in a way he'd feel rewarded, so against Daddy's better judgment, we re-introduced gaming into our home.  He was allowed to download the magnificent (and it is virtual magnificence) Lord of the Rings, and play it 6 hours a week.  Period.  We gave it to him for Christmas that year, and promised more time if he honored those guidelines: that game for that amount of time.

    He soon began pushing those limits consistently, gaining a pretty bad attitude about the limitations of time and of other games.  We ended up grounding him from them when he wasn't turning in his school work on time, and when he'd be openly disrespectful of me or Curtis.  Things got rocky off and on until finally, we took them out again.  He threw himself back into football for one last year, gained new friendships, and a thriving social life, made progress in his school work, picked up that beautiful electric guitar that had been sitting idly, and got along once again with his brothers and sisters.  He became truly charming to anyone who knew him, all uninterrupted by the obsession of games.
 
    A few months before he turned 18, He was still not allowed to have games in our home, but was allowed to spend his money as he saw fit while doing a stint of work out in west Texas with some dear friends of ours.  He asked about gaming, and though we still did not approve of it, he wasn't in our home, so we let him make that decision.  And game he did.  He spent most of his hard earned money on consoles, games, and a nice used flat screen.  The bright, happy, thoughtful and helpful young man that arrived out there to make some good summer money turned into a more reclusive and ornery teenage kid, agitated and easily irritated.  Of course, he blamed his mood on other more trying aspects of the job and sometimes tense atmosphere of the family he went to serve who found less work than promised them, initiating this move.  But, the transition was like night and day, and happened solely and solidly after he started gaming again.





    We celebrated his birthday in west Texas and when he arrived home, we had the typical "I'm an adult now, so I should be able to make this decision for myself," discussion.  Again?  What do the 18 year olds of the world not get about what it means to be an adult???   It has far less to do with age, and far more to do with the ability to be fully responsible for yourself, providing your own income, and paying for your own car insurance, phone bills, medical bills, rent, and groceries!  It also has everything to do with in whose home do you live?  There is spiritual autonomy in a home for which the head of that home has to answer.  When you have your own home, you are responsible for its contents, the activity happening within its walls, the media, music, books, attitudes, and actions sanctioned by that home.  Not only will you answer to God, but you may have to answer to authorities in this life, if laws are broken and catastrophic damage is done.
 
    Does this mean that the members of this home have no choice at all?  Don't they get to live their individual lives?  Sure.  But within the constraints of the convictions of that home.  I've heard the theory that you have to let your kids breathe and learn the hard way sometimes.  Actually, I do agree, to a limit.  But when you see something killing your kid, be it the death of critical thinking and creativity through the mind dulling of gaming, or the death of morality and self-respect through a lascivious romance, or the death of one’s body through obesity, alcohol or drug abuse, you're gonna step in. A parent can instinctively smell the stench of death in his or her child.  God gave that to us!!  He instilled it in us by His wisdom when He made you a parent.  And, I’m learning to lean on that instinct with more formidable boundaries than ever before.  The Bible says to let the peace of God rule in your hearts.  You know in your spirit, if you’re a born again believer in Jesus, when you cross that “peace line.” 

    From the stories I’ve gathered over the last months from my peers of resistance in their children, it really has nothing to do with the individual rules in the home anyway.  I’ve had friends that have allowed way more than we do, and friends that are stricter than most, whose kids take a blatant stand against their own parent’s rules.  It has everything to do with the condition of the heart.  Compliance is not about the right or wrong of a conviction.  Compliance has to do with faith.  It was God’s idea to instruct a child to obey his parents.  It was God’s idea to make a father the head of a home.  It was God’s idea to require all of us to honor our fathers and mothers throughout our lifetime, no matter what age, including a promise that things will go well with us, if we do. 

    The reason God created us to be children first was for the express purpose of teaching us obedience.  Our lives are dependent upon our obedience to Christ.  Again I say, He doesn’t love us any less if we disobey.  His favor hasn’t waned.  But, our joy, our success, our healing, our fulfillment is wrapped up in Him!  You cannot live a life in rebellion to God and be at peace.  He is the source of our entire existence!

    So, is it His way or the highway?  Absolutely.  But, He’s always ready to welcome you back from your highway when you’re done and fed up with yourself.  We’ve all experienced it at some time in our lives, to one extent or the other, the grace of God.  Knowing we had to repent to get on track.  Knowing we had to change to find life, abundant life.  The miracle is the ability to change.  That is grace!  It is impossible to accomplish through self-will, it is only by His grace that we can change.  Then, upon repentance, He causes even our mistakes to prosper!!  God is so good!!

   

    Now, back to Curtis Wade…His daddy let him have full reign on the computer when he turned 18, but with these stipulations: not in front of the kids so as to tempt his younger brothers, or hogging the main computer so the others couldn’t get on, remaining courteous to his siblings, and respectful to both of us.  Lastly, he needed to complete his studies to graduate in June, the two credits left. 

     Curtis Wade is holding down a good job at Fuzzy’s Tacos that he really enjoys.  He’s paying his phone bill, car insurance, and a portion of his groceries. He comes home on time, calls us to let us know if his plans change, and runs any errands I request (most of the time with a good attitude :).  But, we noticed him coming home from the closing shift, around 1:00am, then staying up all night long, sometimes until the other kids were up the next morning, playing games.  Night after night.  Whether working or not.  Then, sleeping all day, rising in time to shower, eat, and leave again for work.  If he wasn’t on shift, he’d remain upstairs, reclusive from the family, on games yet again on his phone. 

     Curtis and I talked about it Mother’s Day weekend after I had attended a workshop at the home school book fair in Arlington offered by a fantastic author, Chuck Black, on "Escapism."  In a heart felt, riveting, presentation, Mr. Black spelled out the certain dangers of kids finding an escape from real life in, primarily gaming, but other avenues, as well, that suck the joy out of living in the real world.  Each detail of the symptoms of the one in danger described our Curtis Wade, so much so, that two of the five siblings of his that came with me to this presentation, had tears in their eyes as they heard the serious predicament he was in.  Some of these kids grow up to college age turning down scholarships, promotions, and even willing to ruin their own marriages because of the addiction to gaming.  True stories.  This father, who is a computer guru himself, earns his living in the technological industry.  He loves computers, games and all.  But, the listless existence to which his own son had come brought their family to a place of confrontation for his own good.  It wasn't pretty.  It took courage.  I know the feeling.

    Curtis had to leave for Pennsylvania on Sunday on business.  The girls and I thoroughly enjoyed that Mother's Day afternoon skipping out to see the movie Mom's Night Out, thanks to Christian who volunteered to hold down the fort.  Great movie!  We went to Southlake Towne Center to shop, bought coffees, and stopped by to see Curtis Wade on our way to the movie.  He was on break, and wished me a Happy Mother's Day with a hug.  Loved it!

    But, at 3:30am Monday morning, I woke up with Charles coming in my room, then leaving again and going right back to bed.  Bad dream?  I couldn't go back to sleep.  I couldn't get Curtis Wade off my mind.  I kept thinking about him in here in the study, knowing he was fully up and awake, after all, this was his time.  Then, I comforted myself that Curtis was out of town, and would want to be here if and when we confronted him.  Surely, God wasn't asking me to take him on by myself!  After much delay, and an infusion of supernatural energy, telling me I wasn't going to be going back to sleep, I came in here.  He was congenial and, as always, really funny.  He said, "Hey, Mom.  You alright?"  I said, "Yes, but we probably need to talk."  He then said, "You must have had a pickle, or something bad to eat, and are having bad dreams.  We don't need to talk about anything.  I'm good.  Just go back to sleep.  It's all good," with that charming, cool expression all over his face, actually making me chuckle.  After I politely waited 23 minutes until his game session was over, and he had excused himself from the team of guys he was playing with, he finally hurled his chair around in a rather confrontational manner, and demanded I get it over with. What did I need that was so ridiculously important that I had the audacity to interrupt his game time?  He stays out of my life, shouldn't I stay out of his?   

     I demanded to see his Algebra, of which he wouldn't let me within 10 feet, to see where he was.  Funny thing...typically, the education center offering one a diploma gets to see the completed work before offering such a certificate.  Why that isn't supposed to be the rule for a home schooler is beyond me.  Upon finding that he had only done two lessons further since the last time I checked, I confirmed my suspicions that he wasn't holding to his word, his end of the deal.  He knew it, too.  He became angrier as I talked, and let me tell you, it takes courage to stand up to your half-grown and grown-up kids!  Nobody told me about this aspect of parenting.  Or, maybe they tried, but I tuned in a deaf ear, as I knew my children just wouldn't be that way with me.  I loved them too much, and surely they knew that.  We were too close for this kind of behavior.  But, I thought that once before, too.

    He became indignant and truly offensive, saying all manner of evil.  But, this was my response:

    "Curtis, I love you.  I see what you do that is good and right, and I love that.  You come home on time, you don't challenge our authority on anything really, but this.  You work hard, have received commendations from your employers who are asking you to go full time, you are funny, and loving when you want to be, and I love having you here, in my home.  I like you on games in the wee hours of the morning, because you're not out with girls, drinking, or getting into mischief.  You're a great guy!  But, God has more for you than being safe in your mommy's home.  You're going to graduate.  And, you're not going to throw away your life on my dime and on my time.  God woke me up to deal with this, and I'd rather be sleeping.  But, He won't let me .  He wants me to tell you that He loves you, and He's got a better plan.  I have to answer to Him for my influence in your life, and He has made it very clear that I will bear responsibility if I don't take this stand.  The deal is off.  No more games."

    He told me that he isn't going to graduate.  He said that he would just move out.  He didn't care.  He was done.  I looked him in the eye through tears and said that I was no longer afraid of what my children can do to me.  I had lived through some of the most severe emotional trauma a person can go through with Madison, and had grown quite an alligator skin.  God gave it to me, so I could more readily fulfill His purpose as a parent, without the threat of dying or living through a broken heart. He was the strength of my heart.  And, God gave me him, Curtis Wade. I begged him to stay, and try it God's way, since he couldn't afford to move out anyway. I asked him to try out the "Honor thy father and mother" thing while he still could, right here in our own home, because one day, sooner than later, he'd be calling the shots over every decision ever to be made again in his own life.  And, I reminded him that though he'd "lay his life down" for his virtual friends who had done nothing for him in this life, maybe he could lay his life down for his daddy, who had given up everything to bring him up and offer him all things good that have ever happened in his life.  I assured him, as I had Madison just two short years ago, that his daddy and I loved him and only wanted the absolute best for him.

    He then said he'd just live out of his car, and asked to go to bed.  Funny thing is, I didn't cry my eyes out.  I didn't feel the despair that accompanied such conversations with Madison.  I have lived the proof of God's faithfulness to care for my babies.  I now understand my limitations, and know when I've done all, just stand.  Stand in peace.  Stand in patience.  Stand firm.

    As we were sitting in the den at 11:00am that morning doing our family devotions, Curtis Wade stormed out of the house with a huge duffle packed.  I ran after him, asking where he was going, but he refused to answer and left in his Mustang.  I called Curtis in Pennsylvania, to tell him, and he tried to call Curtis, as well.  No answer.  So, we went on with our day, after praying together for him. I didn't resort to panic mode.  I just waited, and I confess, wondered.  I wondered if he'd really move out.  I really wondered if he would seek asylum with the same family that Madison moved in with, after all, his best friend from childhood is their son.  I wasn't sure what to expect, but I finally refused to think further about it. 

    Four hours later, he called.  After some silence, he said, "I'm just driving around."  I thanked him for calling, and said that his daddy had tried to call him, too.  He said he called him, already.  I told him that if anybody knows the need for a drive, I do.  He then said that he was not moving out.  I told him that I would do whatever it takes to ensure his success, that Daddy and I loved him and were 100% committed to him.  He said he knew that and that he loved us, too.  He said he'd be home soon. 

    After a while, he pulled up, and I was relieved.  He came back to the study, standing there all solemn and tall, so I went to hug him, but before I could, he pulled out these roses from behind his back.  I couldn't help it.  I burst into tears, and cried in his arms.  And cried, and cried.  He asked me to forgive him.  Ya think?  Of course!  I already had.

   

    Curtis Wade re-entered life.  We've seen more of him in the last weeks than we've seen of him in three months!  He's back at the gym with his buddy from football, he's taking his books to the library to buckle down and get it done, and he's just more free in conversation and with his time.  I didn't think I was holding my breath, but I'm pretty sure my face has had a blue tint to it.   There is nothing more handsome and manly than a broken contrite heart.  Actually, in any person, it is beautiful. 
 
    He sat in the den a week later, when I took these photos, gazing at how lavishly beautiful these flowers were still, and said, "I did good, didn't I?"   As a side note to confirm God's promises:  He had lost his notebook containing 25 lessons that had already been completed.  We hunted for weeks to no avail.  Just two days after his change of heart, he found the notebook on his nightstand, and it was actually 55 lessons already completed.  He's only got 22 to finish the book, now.  Yes, things will go well for you when you honor mom and dad!