When Your Kid Gets Suspended

When I got a call from school yesterday afternoon that our son is being sent home - suspended from school - my whole body reacted. My heart was beating out of my chest as I grabbed my things, walked straight out the door and started the long drive to school (since I was on the other side of town). I felt like I was in trouble at school all over again - the burning in my heart.

I started praying - asking God to give me gentleness and peace. I prayed for kindness and patience (not my strengths by any means), but I also asked God to help me know how to emotionally respond. I asked for him to help my son start to own his choices and emotionally process what was happening. 

Embarrassment. Sadness. Anger  (I was furious really). Agonizing walking in the room. Anxiety. Fear. Frustration. These emotions were all flooding my body simultaneously. 

So after I took the time to enter the presence of the only one who could go before me and comfort my son, I called his therapist and left a message. Called my husband to get him up to speed and to ask him to see if he could work from home the rest of the day. Called my son's camp counselor who wants to mentor my son and is coming over soon to see him - I was able to catch him up to speed so he could pray and have a handle on the situation he would be walking into. Called a friend to pray for me & she encouraged me and reminded me God chose me to be this kid's mom & he will equip me to love him well - and that I did not need to be afraid. 

So trying to pull myself together (I'm not much good at this either), I went up to the dean's office and waited for my son to finish cleaning up the mess he had made and make way into the room with the dean and director of primary grades to hear my son make excuses, lie and take no ownership to us. After perhaps too much patience and grace, we got no where and I took him home. 

I'd love to say I totally ignored him and was gentle and graceful to him the drive home, but he continued to lie. He blamed others. He took absolutely no responsibility. He said it had happened another time. I pushed back. I knew there were only lies coming out and I asked him boldly (that's better than saying I yelled, right?) that he needed to stop talking to me until he was ready to own the truth. 

After about thirty minutes of silence and crying (on both our parts), his coping mechanisms and calming activities (more about this another time if you'd find them helpful) - he came clean. All the details, what he thought he was motivated by, what is going on in his little brain and we discussed what will happen next. Then followed lots hugs and words of affirmation before a slew of apology note writing - taking ownership of his choices he had made. He owned it, came out from behind the lies and now has to live in the consequences of his choices. 

On days like today - the day after a hard day - I am so grateful for all the resources provided to me. The awesome school who care, who fight for him, who are teachable and keep him accountable. For the therapist who encouraged me the day before. For the hug from his teacher from last year in the hall. For the husband who showed up exactly as I needed him to. For the friends who listen, pray and encourage me. For the psychiatrist apt I know is coming up next week. For the state insurance I know we can lean on if we need more resources. For the other adoptive moms who never pretend to know what I am going through, but are willing to stand beside me and remind me my son's choices don't reflect my parenting. For God's voice who constantly reminding me that I am not enough for my kid, but only He is. 

I am so grateful and filled with hope as I sit here giving him more and more to do and he is at peace. He is feeling loved by all who hold him accountable. He is encouraged knowing we won't let him be less that he is capable without having words about it. He knows we are united as a team and that lying, blaming and hiding will not get him anywhere. Trauma & PTSD really doesn't make any sense to me, but when my kid is pushing the world that loves him away, God keeps reminding me to bring him close - help him own his choices and then quickly remind him what actually defines him: not his choices, but he is God's child - precious and loved. Beautiful and chosen. Forgiven and redeemed.