Unintentional Mentors

It was a casual “yes” that connected to a million other yes’s. It led to some of the most exhausting and fruitful ministry I have ever been a part of. It also invited me into something that would change me not only me as a follower of Christ, but would be more influential on my parenting than any book or mentor that I have had.

 The student pastor asked me in the lobby one Sunday morning if I would start leading a 6th grade girls’ small group. I was looking for a place to serve and get connected, as we had just moved to Houston. I wasn’t completely excited about serving in that age group, but it wasn’t because I am not empathetic to the fact that 6th grade, and the subsequent few years, are some of the most challenging and dreaded by most of the human race. Lots of people want to go back and be a kid again, or be in high school, or even college. NOBODY says, “I wish I could go back and be in middle school again.” My own personal 6th grade nightmare was being the lead in the church children’s choir, having to perform inside a cardboard box supposed to be a hymnal, and being sick with terror that my middle school friends might actually come to church that night. In that season, you are over being a kid, but you are completely ill-equipped for the hurricane of teenage ridiculousness that you are soon to be swept up in. It’s heavy with drama, angst, and emotion. It just wasn’t the on-ramp into student ministry that I was hoping for.

“Sure. I’ll do it.”

I shepherded those dozen or so girls for the next 7 years until they graduated. As I look back, few experiences have influenced my parenting of my own teenage girls as much as the invitation to shepherd that group. In their late middle school years, our church was introduced to relational discipleship. This was a completely different way of leading teenagers, and the most intentional discipleship framework that I had ever experienced. Having the gift of teaching, I loved to teach! I loved to share information, model delight in the Word and share the joy of getting to know God through it. Of course, there will always be a place for that. But these small group environments were designed to step away from facts and information, and into an environment where the Holy Spirit was the main Teacher. I was facilitating. It meant more questions, less answers. It meant more quiet, less talking. It meant guarding confidentiality and the safety of the group at all cost, which was no small feat for teenage girls. I saw the effects of holding place for Him to speak, whisper, and work. I saw the power of waiting and silence. Because of the years we experienced together, nothing could ever convince me that going back to “me--teacher, you--student” was superior. The way these girls interacted with the Word and were challenged by the Spirit and each other completely put to rest my   temptation to pick up the mic every week. Because I wasn’t teaching, I was participating. I was observing. I was listening and learning from them. Here are a few things I learned . . .

-You don’t have to have an answer for everything. Even if you do have an answer, consider if that is the right time to share it or if it even needs to be shared at all. Giving space for processing and actively listening was one of the biggest gifts given to me in that relational discipleship group. I knew that if I wanted to receive that kind of sharing in my own home, my husband and I had to create that kind of safety and space for them as teenagers. Less answers. More questions. Less talking. More listening.

-Discipleship is a pathway, and so is parenting. Think “Captain of a sailboat,” rather than “Car mechanic.” When you hear something that is “wrong” or “broken,” my previous pattern would be to pull that car over, pop the hood, and fix it right away! The new approach was to take a minute and pause. What direction are we sailing right now? Is there a course correction needed? OK, fine. Consider what is the best way to do that. It doesn’t have to be a response to every cotton-pickin’ thing that isn’t “right.” This was, and is, huge for me. I needed to learn to listen. It continues to be something I want to grow in. I learned the value of restraint in my immediate reaction and gave space for prayer and thought. Sometimes they needed space to process, and so did I. Ask questions to learn more, and refrain from reacting to my initial assumptions. To be clear, I do this poorly still. I shudder to think how treacherous the teen years could’ve been for my children if I hadn’t even been trying to learn to listen, and had zero restraint in my desire to help, fix, or correct! In that girls small group, I saw the beautiful of holding space for sharing and processing, and trusting that very often the Spirit would impact in the most profound of ways if I just got patient and held space for it. Not everything has to be addressed right away, and certainly not by my mouth. Not only is this a journey, but it’s a relationship. My previous “pop the hood and fix this thing!” lends itself to actually breaking the very thing I am trying to build. Relational discipleship invited me to be intentional instead of reactionary. Plan to have the conversations that need to be had, instead of “whacking” issues as they came up. I saw the effects of the casual critical comments made by parents and what they did to the heart of their daughters.  I also saw what it took to earn the right to hear her heart and get a glimpse of what she was wrestling with in her relationship with God. It was a holy privilege, and it created a holy fear in me to guard that privilege.

-Be in constant awareness that change is happening, every day, in your kid. They are getting constantly growing and getting older, and it takes constant vigilance for parents to adjust the responsibilities and privileges as change comes. I saw some parents make appropriate adjustments in responsibilities and freedoms as their kids grew . . .  even leaving room for missteps but being present to address and debrief along the way. I saw some parents who never seemed to notice that their kid was growing up at all. And I saw some who lost all purpose and identity when their kid graduated and went to college. I don’t mention these in judgment. This parenting teens and shepherding them toward launch is about one of the hardest things to do on the planet! And we thought it was hard when they were toddlers. These families became unintentional mentors to me, forcing me to intentionally make choices to be awake to the process of launch and inviting me to formulate a path to get there. Relational discipleship gave me a framework for this path. The “launch sequence” of a high school kid parallels what we discuss in relational discipleship . . . observing how Jesus gave appropriate invitations into ministry, and at other times intentionally sending them out. For the disciples, sometimes an appropriate ask was picking up baskets of leftovers. Sometimes it was being sent out two by two to share what He had shared with them. Even though they were sent out independently, they huddled up for a debrief  when they got back. Jesus’ pattern of releasing for appropriate independence, but being present to guide and make adjustments as needed was a critical observation for me with those girls. And something I have tried to implement with my own.

-Confidentiality and trust is foundational. The girls I discipled knew that if someone was hurting them or they were hurting themselves, the circle of confidence had to be opened to invite more voices in. I reminded them of that often, and of course, there were heartbreaking times that we had to walk that out together. For my own girls, there were some difficult times when my kids might confide in me stupidity that involved other people’s kids. I had to decide if someone else’s kid being stupid was worth risking the trust I had with my own. In situations when a daughter’s friend was harming herself intentionally or unintentionally, there were times the information had to be communicated to other parties. If I deemed kids were dancing on the edge of dumb, and my kids were using me as a safe place to process and figure out their own proximity to “dumb,” I decided it wasn’t worth breaching their confidence. These are never easy choices; it became a prayerful decision to maintain my kids’ confidence with the utmost trust but share the info that needed to be shared when other kids’ choices put themselves at risk.

-Appropriate vulnerability for parents to their kids about their own struggles and challenges when they were a teen breeds empathy. It also helps us as parents remember how dang hard it is to be a teenager. I was more empathetic to my own kids because I had just watched those girls navigate middle school and high school. I saw the heaviness that they navigated. I remember one blatant observation I had was the pressure the girls were under academically. The volunteer hours, the weighted classes, the class rank, and the GPA. I saw them step back from their consistency to group and church, and some, their relationship to God during that time, because of the demands of school, extracurricular stuff, and the pressure of parents. I began to call it “playing the game.” This imprint caused me to check myself when I was tempted to put academic pressure on my own kids or started to lose site of the priorities of discipleship and relationship. The spiritual development that teens have the opportunity to wrestle out in high school is so critical, and it seemed foolish to exchange that for a class rank, an acceptance letter to a certain college, or a championship trophy. These relationships and spiritual transformation had the potential for a lifetime impact on the kid’s life. I was one of the kids who “played the game.” But I am grateful that I adjusted some perspective because of my small group girls, and maybe some perspective that time and age give you. I wanted my girls to be challenged, to follow actual academic interest and passions. But stacking a semester with dreaded weighted classes, padding the stats, getting on a certain travel team, or getting the volunteer hours cord at graduation? Nah.

-Maintaining a safe environment for them to share when they are upset (even upset with you), to be respected as people, not just bossed around or talked down to. The other part of this was to be available, which is usually at the most inconvenient times, only when it’s late and you are exhausted. The consistency of your availability is critical, that they know you are there when you need them.  I found that to be true with those I discipled, and the same was true with my own. Availability is key. It didn’t mean that I was sitting around waiting for them to engage, but it did mean I was often looking for times and ways to connect, and when the interest for them was there, I set down whatever I was doing, or possibly even canceled what I was going to, to hold their words. The spontaneous opportunities are critical, but so are scheduled one-on-one times that you can be side by side on a drive. Or talking over a special dessert at a restaurant on a random Tuesday evening. Or spending the afternoon shopping for a homecoming dress. It’s both.

-Being self-aware of how I carried myself in my children’s presence and in their spaces. It was never lost on me that they didn’t get to choose about their dad being the pastor of their church, but maybe they should get a choice about their mom talking teaching in front of their peers, particularly on sensitive topics, or even how involved I was in student ministry at the time. I didn’t invite them into that because they were in charge and called the shots. It just seemed like it was respectful to them to honor their space, and ask about their level of comfort with me in it. For the record, most of the time it was a “heck yeah!” Only a few times did a get a, “No, thanks.” And I always respected the “no’s” and stayed on the side lines or stepped back. Sometimes kids are embarrassed because they have parents and that is unfortunate, but I always felt sorry for kids whose parents didn’t seem to have any awareness of how they presented themselves at a ballgame or school event. Sometimes parents even seemed to enjoy embarrassing their kid. This tears down with both hands anything we would want to build with our kids, for the present, or the long term. We talk about being aware of how you influence the environment or the circle in group. As parents, we need to apply that to how it feels to our kids when we are with their friends, or in their spaces. Taking their feedback without defensiveness, or even asking them if they ever feel embarrassed or self-conscience when we as parents enter their world, would be a brave, and fruitful thing to do.  

Prior to the teen years, I’ve heard it said that we are in the “care” stage and then the “cop” stage. We are establishing ourselves as the trusted, loving parent. We are given the responsibility to establish the rails and the culture of our home. The foundation gets laid during those early and elementary years. Spiritually speaking, a foundation of knowledge about God’s character and his ways, through His word and Bible stories is ready to be interacted with, internalized, and wrestled with. Those seven years with the girls’ small group gave me the opportunity to see the beauty in discipleship done in relationship, with intentional guardrails maintaining the atmosphere in the greenhouse. This is not a formula by any means but it does set the stage, and create an opportunity for transformation. I was invited to do my part in setting that stage, and as those girls launched, I turned my full attention to my own middle school girls. I had seven years of reps under my belt and it launched me forward in so many ways. But I am still walking it out over hear, learning, growing, stumbling and bumbling sometimes. They are principles and patterns that do characterize our lives now. And I am beyond grateful.

We are still working that out over here, now with college-age kids instead of pre-teens. Our family meeting on Monday night included an epic amount of calendaring, but it also included some listening, some conflict, some statements like “oh, I see that now. I see how that affected you. Sorry about that.” And I mostly just listened. When I wanted to jump in the pool of conversation, I heard my internal voice say, “Do you really need to talk right now? Choose wisely. Can you just take it in?” No perfection here.  No “we have this figured out.” Still walking on a pathway. Just walking. Listening. Thinking. Praying. Learning.

Those girls are now married or in grad school, some are working in their careers and some are now mothers themselves. Somewhere along the way, they bestowed on me the name, “Momma Rob.” I wear the name pride, and in awe of the Lord of the journey that yes sent me on.  He invited me to grow alongside them and learn from them. I am forever grateful to Jesus, and to them.