For the Mom Who Has a Disconnected Child

Photo by Gift Habeshaw on Unsplash

“There is so much more I want to tell you, but you can’t bear it now. When the Spirit of truth comes, he will guide you into all truth. He will not speak on his own but will tell you what he has heard. He will tell you about the future. He will bring me glory by telling you whatever he receives from me. All that belongs to the Father is mine; this is why I said, ‘The Spirit will tell you whatever he receives from me.’”

– John 16:12-15 (NLT)

I have pictures of four sons everywhere in our home. I have a deep, trusted relationship with three of them.

My husband and I have had the sacred privilege of raising four boys we did not birth. This brave choice made me a mother, when I was sure I would never have that title. It is a beautiful story. A painful story. The story that shaped me the most into who I am. I would make this brave choice again without hesitation. My walls are filled with photographs that testify to this brave decision.

Today, three of our sons are healthy, grounded, good men who love Jesus. One is not speaking to us.

This isn’t new with that son. We’ve lived through seasons of silence before, months, even years. He separates. He returns. He separates again. Every time a season of separation is about to begin, I receive a beautiful piece of art created by him. This is his tell.

My walls are also filled with artwork by him. I received my last piece of art on Mother’s Day, framed and left on my doorstep in the early morning, so he didn’t have to talk to us.

The questions circle. Is he tired of disappointing us? Is he exhausted from trying to “get better”? Is he protecting us from more pain? Or, this is the hope my heart leans toward, is he doing deep healing work that requires distance for a time?

I don’t know. And I am learning that “I don’t know” is a holy place.

Jesus speaks of this in John 16:12–15. There are things we cannot bear yet. There are seasons when clarity is withheld. And in that space, the Spirit guides, not by giving us the full story, but by giving us enough truth for today.

I could drown in the “what ifs.” I have before. I could rehearse every decision we made when they were young, every moment I wish I had handled differently. Shame loves that loop. Shame tells me if I just analyze hard enough, I can control the outcome.

But shame lies.

The truth is we gave those boys safety. We loved them unconditionally, something they took a long time to understand. We continue to love them as grown men navigating complicated lives.

The deeper truth is this. I do not control the ending of this story. We moms love to control the outcome. Thus the fears that swirl inside of us and make us crazy.

What I can control is whether I stay in what I call holy tension. “Holy tension” is the discomfort of being stuck in between but knowing that if you can make a brave vulnerable decision something holy is going to happen.

While we are in the mire of it the Spirit of truth comes to guide us into the truth.

I love a son who struggles. Loving him may mean my heart breaks again. (And I will probably receive more artwork.)

Right now, I am not begging or guilting him into a relationship. It means I trust the Larger Story God for the outcome and every minute I have loved this beautiful boy has made me a better person. This better version of me is learning to listen to the Holy Spirit who is showing me what I need to know from the Father right now. I’m learning to pray when I can and ask others to pray when I cannot.

In other words, to do behaviors that will help me grow in my imperfect progress.

Which makes my identity not as my son’s mom but as God’s delight.

One of those identities is not possible right now. The other is where my brave life starts from.