"I can't relate to my teens anymore; I'm losing them and it's because I haven't stayed relevant or connected enough."
How it sounds in your head: They used to tell you everything. Now they're distant, closed off, living in a world you don't understand. You should have tried harder to stay connected, learned their interests, been the cool mom who bridges the gap. The distance is your fault.
"Train up a child in the way he should go, And when he is old he will not depart from it."
-- Proverbs 22:6Enemy lie twisting normal adolescent individuation into evidence of relational failure requiring mother's frantic effort to bridge.
Her teens need her less, share less, seem to inhabit a digital world she doesn't fully understand. The easy closeness of childhood is gone and she feels she's losing them, that a better mom would have maintained the connection through their changing years.
Rizpah lost her sons to execution for their father's sins—completely out of her control. She kept watch over their bodies for months, and her faithful vigil moved King David's heart to honor them. Her love mattered even when she couldn't change the outcome; God saw her devotion.
I REFUSE the lie that my teens' distance means I'm losing them. IT IS WRITTEN in Proverbs 22:6 that when they are old they will not depart from what I've planted—which means there will BE a pulling-away season, and that's normal, not failure. The roots I've laid are deeper than the teenage exterior suggests. IT IS WRITTEN that individuation is part of becoming, not evidence of my relational inadequacy. I don't have to be the cool mom or stay artificially relevant. The BARAK blessing means God's favor over my family holds them even when I can't see the connection. They are His, and He's not letting go.
The Father isn't measuring your relevance or coolness; He's holding the connection between you and your teens in hands that won't let go. While you've been panicking over their pulling away, He's been doing the deep work of forming them into individuals who will one day return to the roots you planted and call you blessed for letting them go to find themselves.