When my kids were still little (and only half of them had been born), I used to hear parents saying things like, "Having kids is such a scary responsibility," or "Boy, when they become teenagers life takes on a whole new direction." I thought they were rattling off mandatory phraseology to sound as if they were working hard at a relatively easy job. After all, my couple-of-kids wasn't that hard to maintain. Change a diaper, give them some food, squish their fat little bodies into clean clothes and sing a couple songs during the day … no sweat. It never seemed like a monumental challenge to me. Sure, the first three or four years were messy and noisy (and could be pretty boring), but other than that, it was a snap. For sure, kids are little sponges, willing to please their parents, and if you're consistent you can make them do pretty much anything you want them to. And they're cute and pudgy and smell nice after you've bathed them.

Seventeen years later, I'm starting to rethink my original position. I think a lot of what I would consider "hard" is the ongoing persistence of it all, not to mention the reality that they grow into individual human beings who will come to a place where I, as a parent, am no longer thinking for them. And there is no money-back guarantee that our kids will automatically adopt our philosophies, our convictions, or even our God. Yipes. Did I sign up for that? I do not remember that being part of the agreement.

What I want to examine is where that leaves the moms and dads who have wanted to do everything right and yet their children are grown up, or almost grown up, and are a mess.

By God's grace, up to this point, my kids are all still "practically perfect." But since it's a known fact (according to the "world's" experts) that all teenagers must go through a rebellious "pulling away phase," I keep waiting for our 17-year-old to go off the deep end and do something truly heinous. But so far, it's been pretty sure and steady. As of yet, she hasn't done anything to shock the family and make us rethink all the child training we implemented. On the contrary, she keeps getting more likable, more trustworthy and more mature. I don't know if that is normal, but it sure makes life easier.

Truthfully, there is a lack of success stories and good examples to feel encouraged and inspired by. There are definitely some, and I am thankful for those, but that still doesn't change the fact that there isn't any secret recipe on the market that guarantees that every one of our children will turn out to follow all of our beliefs. Don't get me wrong-I do think it is possible, and there are safeguards that we are wise to follow after as well as a tremendous amount of good information available; however, when we get to a certain point we cannot force them to do anything. They will eventually have to choose for themselves. They are not ours forever. As adults, parents lose the authority to dictate the who, what, where, when, and how. I know-I don't like it either.

So obviously there is a huge motivator to train them while they are still young, to fill them with truth and build it all on a foundation of love, security, and accessible, non-hypocritical relationships. Yet this letter is not about that. What I want to examine is where that leaves the moms and dads who have wanted to do everything right and yet their children are grown up, or almost grown up, and are a mess. What about the parents who have honestly longed to see their kids grow into strong, mature, respectful, God-honoring adults and yet the result is now a disturbing picture to behold?

My mother was one of those parents. She loved God, truly loved God, and desired nothing more than to see her children walking in truth. It is so sad to know the years of turmoil she went through with me. I remember coming home at around four in the morning to find her in front of the couch on her knees, crying. She told me that sometimes it would almost be easier if I died than to watch me live the way I was living. She was always waiting for the police to come and tell her that I had been killed because of the depraved groups of people with whom I was entangled. No mother should ever have to feel like that. Many could have pointed fingers and smugly told her, "Well, if you hadn't spoiled the little beast, then she wouldn't have turned out so badly." That would have been completely true, but it could not fix her problem.

When I reached the age to begin choosing what I would follow after, my mother's world held no particular interest for me. I dove headlong into depravity, and there was almost nothing she could do about it. Almost nothing.

My mother had made many mistakes in my formative years, but those could not be relived or done over. And so she did the only thing that she could think of. She started begging God. She didn't just pray every once in a while; she pleaded and cried and banged on Heaven's doors. She was like the widow in Luke: so persistent, so unwavering, so broken and truly at a loss. She begged God to grab hold of my nasty, hardened heart and to make it His. She prayed for both of my sisters as well.

"Well, if you hadn't spoiled the little beast, then she wouldn't have turned out so badly." That would have been completely true, but it could not fix her problem.

No, my mother was not the shining example of how to foster obedient, compliant children, but she had something that I believe is just as worthy (if not more!) in God's sight. She clung to Him, and she faithfully brought all three of us girls before His throne. I believe that God reached down and literally swapped me out for somebody brand new. The "old me" was an abomination. There was no amount of counseling, cajoling, threatening, or guilt trips that could have made me come to my senses or to bow my knee to any authority. She knew that the only way I would change was supernaturally. She did not have it in her power to do that. She had to ask her Dad to do that. And He loved her so much that He heard her prayers and answered, "Yes, I will do this thing for you."

I am fully convinced that I know God because of the pleading prayers of my mother. I am indebted to her like nobody else. I am so thankful that God allowed her to see my life changed, and that she was able to witness my marriage to a man who loves God as much as she did. And I cannot wait to see her again. I will when I get to Heaven.

So I am writing this to you: the friend, the mother, the stepmother, the wife, the sister, the grandmother-you, the person who loves someone so deeply and yet is confounded with the agony of seeing that one you love slipping down a dark hole that leads to death. I am sorry that you are in this place. I will not tell you what you should have done. I can only offer you the story of my mother, a woman who stayed on her face and did not give up pleading for the ones she cherished. I know that all things can be used for His glory, even the impossible-especially the impossible.

This is what I learned from my mother, and it may be the most important thing she could have taught me. I will not trust solely in my child-training methods to save my children. I will obey God's word and train them up accordingly, but also plead for them now to a God who loves them as much as He loves me-as much as He loves my mother. Pray. Know God and seek Him. There are some things that only He can make right.

Luke 18:1-8-And he spake a parable unto them to this end, that men ought always to pray, and not to faint; Saying, There was in a city a judge, which feared not God, neither regarded man: And there was a widow in that city; and she came unto him, saying, Avenge me of mine adversary. And he would not for a while: but afterward he said within himself, Though I fear not God, nor regard man; Yet because this widow troubleth me, I will avenge her, lest by her continual coming she weary me. And the Lord said, Hear what the unjust judge saith. And shall not God avenge his own elect, which cry day and night unto him, though he bear long with them? I tell you that he will avenge them speedily. Nevertheless when the Son of man cometh, shall he find faith on the earth?