.5 Little Ways to Connect With your Teen Right Now.

Years ago this used to be a typical mommy blog with photos and recipes and cute little anecdotes about my children. But then it morphed as I morphed into something not altogether different, but different enough that it began to take a new shape, and is now not at all a typical mommy blog. Throughout the changes in my life, which are mirrored here in this little space, I have not lost my passion for being a mom. It is something that I absolutely love. I love it so much, that God has had to do a big work in my heart to show me ways where I was loving it a little too much. There were times when I was wrapping my identity in this parenting gig, and where my tight hold on my children could be considered control. I have had to surrender, and allow God to painfully show me areas where I have tried to increase my role in my kids life and be God for them instead of Mommy. That has been a hard lesson to learn, because I fiercely love these four babies given to me. I desire so much for their lives. But so does God, and He loves them perfectly, and infinitely more and better than I ever could. So while there are things that I have had to release in parenting, there are other things that still remain. One big thing is intentionality.

I simply cannot mother well without being intentional about it. I strive for that, and I miss the mark often allowing exhaustion, frustration, and my own humanness to get in the way. But it is something I pray for and work towards with Jesus working in me. Since becoming a mom to a teenager, I have learned that the intentionality with him has to be kicked up a notch more than even with my littles. I have to make a conscious, daily effort to connect with him in meaningful ways. Teens are a completely different breed than babies, toddlers, and school-aged kiddos. Most of them won't just plop in our lap spilling the content of their day, life, and heart freely out for us. We have to work for that - we have to be intentional. It takes hard work and thought to connect with these kids on the brink of adulthood and the great big world open to them. Relationship building isn't easy, and it is sometimes messy, but it is so necessary. Even though our teens are growing up, maturing, and stretching their wings, they still need us in so many ways. Our job is not finished yet.

I am admittedly new at this, and some of you may have already successfully navigated the teen years with your child. You are a goldmine for us in the trenches, and I would love to hear from you in the comments. But for right now, in my 18 short months of being a mom to a teenager, this is what is working for me.

5 Little Ways to Connect With your Teen Right Now:

1. Say I Love You (and mean it) every single day. When our children are adorable little, chubby babies, it is easy to smother them with hugs, kisses, and multiple daily doses of I love yous. But as they grow and change into a teenager who sometimes snarks, who stands taller than you, and makes you reevaluate everything you thought you knew about parenting, the daily affection and the words I love you may come slower. But I think they are still needed. I believe that this is one of the most beautiful messages that we can give our teens every day, before we send them out the door into a world that sometimes isn't pretty. Let them know that they are loved, cherished, and valuable to their family, to this world, and to God who lovingly placed that value onto them. Before school send them out with an I love you, write it on their facebook wall, send it to them in a text, put a note on his bed or in her lunch, and before you hang up the phone say I love you. Don't miss an opportunity to be intentional about saying these important words. They will make a difference, and they will be noticed.

2. Take time to listen before bed. For some reason I have found that those moments when my son has crawled into bed and is ready for sleep becomes the best time for him to talk. Perhaps it is simply his ploy to stay up a few minutes later, but regardless I will snatch onto them! This time has become invaluable for our relationship, but it takes real intentionality on my part. Sitting on his bed at 10 or 11:00 at night and listening well to his heart, is a little different than sitting on my daughter's bed at 7:00 at night. I am usually exhausted and ready to crawl into my own bed, but those moments of time have become sweet and well-worth the effort. Teens, just like adults, want someone who will listen to them, hear what they are saying, and value their words. If they do not find that in us, they will find it someone else. I am also learning to quiet my own voice during this time and let him talk. Sometimes that is really all he wants - not my opinions, my preaching, my remedies, just my empathy and listening ear.

3. Use Social Media as a Tool to Connect. We live in a day and age that is driven by technology. While we have boundaries set up in our home, and with our teen, we have chosen not to altogether escape it. So instead, I use it to build our relationship. I follow and friend my son wherever he is on social media (I think this is just plain good practice anyway), and I intentionally interact with him in those places. If you are friends with my son on facebook, you will see that his timeline is filled up with his mama. And I am okay with that (and he is too). My teen also happens to be a words of affirmation kid. He craves this and it is one of the ways he feels the most loved, which works well for me in that my best tool is writing. But even if you are not a writer, touching base throughout the day over social media can be a very easy and powerful tool to building your relationship with your teen. It doesn't all have to be serious either, Habi and I have a lot of fun teasing each other on instagram. And that brings me to my next point....

4. Have FUN together. I love having a teenager, because life is just more fun. My littles are amazing and silly, but the humor is so much different with a teen. We laugh and tease one another and have inside jokes with each other, and it all builds into the relationship.We go on coffee dates together or find something to play together. All families are different, and of course, your family will have to set the tone and decide what kind of teasing is appropriate. Perhaps what we find fun, you may find disrespectful and visa versa. Do what works for you, and find the balance that you need, but don't neglect the richness of laughter, joking and having fun with your teen. Maximize those moments and allow spontaneous fun to happen in your home.

5. Focus on the Positive. I know that raising a teen can be so stressful and hard. Believe me I have solidarity with you in yearning to reach my child's heart and see him mature and grow into a beautiful adult. I know that there are many days where I focus so much on the changes and maturing that needs to occur, but when I step back and look at the whole of my son, I can see some incredible positives. Affirm those positives in your teen - even the little ones. Positive affirmation and calling out the great character traits in our teens is huge and will make a big difference in our relationship. Let compliments generously roll off your tongue - look for ways to build your child up. With my boy, when I can do this in front of people, he just beams and swells with appreciation. So I take every opportunity to loudly recognize the positives that I see in him.

These are just a few simple ways that I am connecting with my teen right now. I am sure that there are countless other ways that I may not yet practice. I would love to interact with you in the comments about what works for you. This is definitely not a exhaustive list, but one that may get us started in being intentional with our teens.

.Just Writing (with photographs of Habtamu).

Sometimes I like to sit down and just see what flows from my heart to my finger tips. Writing is like an extension of myself. I am not sure I would be able to think clearly without writing. It is a gift. There have been moments when I have sat down and written so fast, so furiously that my fingers cramped and ached when I was done, but it is in those moments when I feel alive. When I get it all out and on paper. I have been like that for as long as I can remember. There have been few days in my life, since I was old enough to grasp journaling and writing, that I have not written something. I am thankful for this outlet.

So, as I sit here in my dark, quiet home, I am just going to write. It's not thought out or planned or purposed. I am not sure how it will end or when. It is not written for anyone. I am not even sure if this will be one of the posts that make it onto the blog. I'm just trying to untangle the thoughts in my heart.

It was really hard to say goodbye to Jim. Harder than saying goodbye to my children when we went on our two trips to Ethiopia (and that was hard). It's just that we are so connected I guess. We do everything together, and both of us love being together and doing life together. We are such a team when it comes to parenting, and he has left a huge void here. Although, I must say my children have been really resilient and really well behaved. We have had fun together. This is the longest Jim and I have ever been apart since being married. I believe the record before this was four nights. This is eleven. Now that I think about it, most of our dating years were spent at the same college, and even though we lived in different towns, we always managed to see each other over our school breaks. I am guessing this is the longest we have gone without seeing each other in probably 13 or so years. It is weird.

But it is worth it for the sake of the gospel. It is worth it to know that while Jim did leave his family for a bit, he is sharing Jesus' love and the gospel. I truly believe that God is pleased with this. It is worth the sacrifice to know that their may be a kingdom increase because he was obedient to the Spirit pressing on him to take this trip.

If the Lord has put a particular people group on your heart, do not delay in your obedience to GO. (Project 61)

This knowing, that it was God leading, and that we would rather be smack dab in the center of God's will than anywhere else, is the only thing that gave my heart peace as Jim stepped out of our door for another country. Jim went for the sake of the gospel. I stayed here for the sake of the gospel. Everything should be for the sake of the gospel. The gospel is all that matters, because without it where would I be?

Not only is Jim getting the opportunity to share the gospel, and to be the hands and feet of Jesus alongside various ministries in Ethiopia (Ministries such as FashionABLE , Mark 10:14 , and Children's HopeChest - Ethiopia), but he is also having a BLAST!


Doesn't this little sweetheart look like our Jamesy?! They must both be from the same region. I can't get over her cuteness.

Jim has also been able to spend time with Habtamu! Thank you for praying as Jim broke the news to Habtamu about adopting him. Jim said that he was very sad, but he was brave. I have not met a braver boy than he.

These photos do something to me that I cannot even describe. It is the weirdest thing to walk around here feeling as if I have a teenage son in Ethiopia. I asked Jim if Habtamu remembered me, and Jim just laughed.

He said Tiffany, he talks and asks for you - "Mom" - all.the.time. The feeling is mutual. How God can bind hearts like that must be supernatural. I just have no other way of describing it.

Here he is, my beautiful, brave, teenage son, who lives across the ocean.

And here is a side by side of Habtamu in January the day I met him and today with my husband. It's only because of the love of Jesus. I am in awe.



I still want him home, but I am trusting in God's perfect plan for Habtamu's life.

I have been searching God's Word intently, these past few weeks, regarding missions and the Great Commission. I grew up believing (and I actually think I was even taught this) that the Great Commission (Matthew 28:18-20 Then Jesus came to them and said, “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you. And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age".) was a mandate only for the disciples in Jesus day and then Super Special Spiritual Christians today with a special "calling" on their lives. But I cannot find anything in Scripture to back this up. Nothing Instead I am reading in the Bible that EVERY believer is called to spread the gospel to those who have not heard. I do not think we all have to move to Ethiopia or a foreign country, although I know that people think that I think this. But I do think we all must go somewhere to a place where there are people who have never heard. That seems to jump out in the Scriptures, and I have not found a loop hole that gives me an out, or any believer an out - even being a mommy (to read a great article on why even Mommies are called to go to all nations click here I really love her line about not always feeling called to go to Target, but she still goes. It makes me chuckle because that is the line I hear the most and have used the most in my own life.)

I will even step on toes and say that I think all believers should have a passport and be ready to go. I am amazed at how many pastors, here in America have never stepped outside of this country. Yes, they must shepherd their flock here, but what happens to them outside of their comfort zone, and the renewed passion they can carry back to their people is immeasurable and very valuable to their ministry here at home. I am ashamed that it took me 31 years to go outside of our country, and it was only necessity that I went at first, until God exploded my world and opened my very blind, very foolish eyes.

I am not going to go as far as to say that we all must go on a trip outside of America (although I will say we all must be ready and willing), but this verse does leaves me uneasy, because I know that there are literally countries around this world that have barely even been touched by the gospel. And we cannot say this about America - no matter how heathen we think America is - there is opportunity for people to hear the gospel everywhere in America - even on TV or the radio. This is just not true in other countries. There are people who have never even heard the name of Jesus or had opportunity to hear.

And thus I aspired to preach the Gospel, not where Christ was already named, that I might not build upon another man's foundation; but as it is written, 'They that had no news of Him shall see, and they who have not heard shall understand'. (Rom. 15:20-21)

I know that there are many, many that will not agree with me on this, and that is okay (please be kind though and back up your reasons with the Word of God if you feel led to share your reasons). I am really still working and praying through all of this myself. I am not a biblical theologian or any kind of expert.

I am leaning towards the thought process that God wants us to share (verbally) the gospel where we are everyday, and then he also wants us to GO and share the gospel with those who have never heard - which probably (but I am not definite on this) means another country. So, I am really starting to see the value in (properly done) short term mission trips, and I am seeing that they are not "just for teens". Again, I am just beginning to really get a handle on any of this. It's foreign to me because of how I grew up.


I guess that is what I am pondering tonight and begging God to give me clarity. I have miles to go in this journey of sanctification. I promised myself that my next blog post was going to be light and fluffy. So much for that.


As always thankful for grace.

.My Habtamu.

As soon as our eyes met on that dusty street in Addis, I knew my life would never be the same. The statistics that we hear regarding poverty and third world countries and orphans and street children are staggering. But truly they did not become a reality until my world collided with this boy's.

I'm not quite sure how to share or what to share, but Jim and I want to share. We are learning and growing in the area of transparency, and this falls into it.

A few weeks after we came home from Ethiopia Jim and I felt that we had to do everything we could to pursue adopting Habtamu. It didn't matter that the odds were stacked against us. We had to try. No one else was fighting or advocating for this boy, and at the very least we felt God tugging us to do that. Jim called our agency and explained the situation. Our agency is amazing and honest and ethical. Because of this they were cautious and upfront, but agreed to at least investigate further.

We had to have our initial home study interview with our social worker in order to start the process. She approved us with glowing recommendations - she is truly a blessing. Then we had to once again fill out that tedious online application in order to be accepted back into the Ethiopia program, along with sending in our initial payment. We were approved and accepted. Then we prayed and waited all summer. We kept in touch with Habtamu and continued to care for his needs from afar. And everyday he knit his way deeper into our hearts.

Jim had a phone conference with the director of our agency twice. We prayed and gathered a circle of friends to pray. We learned information that would prove detrimental to Habtamu's adoptability, and yet we prayed.

I do not believe that adoption is the solution to orphan care. I believe it is a small and valuable part of it, but not the answer.

But I thought that adoption was the answer for my Habtamu.

We were giving him everything that he needed - food, shelter, clothing, and an education.

Yet the one thing he lacks, and he told us every single time we talked is a family.

We began to dream and plan about making this a reality for him. We talked about what it would be like to bring a teenage boy into our home as a son. We remodeled our upstairs to accommodate him - in our imagination. We prayed for, cried over, and pleaded with God for Habtamu. We advocated for a son a world away.

We whispered our desires to a few and got encouragement and prayer. We got a few you guys are crazy even considering bringing an older boy into your home comments and when are you guys going to go back to being normal - you've made your point looks, too. But I am beginning to take those kinds of comments and looks as confirmation that we are on the right track. {grin} I believe God's grace is big enough to blanket any plan He has for our family - no matter how crazy it appears. Nothing is outside of His grace.

Nothing.

"God gives the very best to those who leave the choice with Him" Hudson Taylor

This quote was shared with me a few weeks ago when I was battling some fear over another issue. However, it applies here as well.

I believe with all of my heart that God desires for Habtamu to have a family, and I have prayed and prayed that we were that family. I thought, in my human understanding, that this choice was best.

However, we have been told, and we believe after what we have learned, that Habtamu is unadoptable. We are at peace with the decision, and we understand why that conclusion was made. But it does not make the hurt less. I have carried Habtamu in my heart for nine months. I think of him multiple times a day. I worry for his safety, and whether he is eating well. I am sad that he has no Dad or Mom to cheer for him at his soccer games. It doesn't seem right.

So, where do we go from here? We don't know. It seems pretty obvious that God orchestrated our meeting Habtamu. We are going to get some help in order to officially be able to sponsor him. As we have just been coordinating it all on our own - which is really, really tricky across an ocean.

Just a few short hours ago Jim stood on Ethiopian soil and once again wrapped his arms around a son we will almost definitely never be able to call our own. I skyped with Jim, and he was just broken. He said Habtamu looks so sad, and he was asking to talk to me. Jim will be the one to share with him that we will not be able to bring him home. I think Habtamu already suspects this. Please pray.

I never planned to adopt. I never chose to fall in love with a sea of brown-eyed orphans. I never dreamed of connecting with a teenage boy on the streets of Ethiopia. I would have chosen something much safer for myself, much plainer - much less stick-outish. I would have just been content to blend in with my two children and midsize house in our comfortable neighborhood in America. I would never have chosen to ignite this passion inside of me for justice and mercy for needy people. I never would have chosen to say and write some of the things I have in order to bring a voice to those without one. This is not me. I would rather everyone just like me, and I keep my lips tightly closed.

But something happened to me. I allowed God to lead in one little choice which dominoed into another and another, and truly in letting go of what I pictured for my life, and letting God choose the path, I have been given the very best. My life is far different and far more fulfilling and wonderful then I could have ever dreamed. It hasn't been an easy process. I have cried more tears than any other time in my entire life. But I am feeling more. I keep begging God to break my heart for what breaks His, and to allow me to see with His eyes. And the truth is that hurts more than I can bear sometimes. But I do not have to bear it alone, because I have Christ in me.

I am leaving the choice about Habtamu up to God, because I know He chooses the very best.

Subscribe in a reader

.What's Going on With Habtamu.

This is the question that I get emailed the most.


(One of the most recent photographs we have received. This is from Easter.)

Tomorrow I will share.

Until then, if you are new you can read about this boy who stole my heart nine months ago by clicking on the following:

My Answered Prayer (January 22, 2011)

Always on my Mind (February 26, 2011)

God is up to Something (March 11, 2011)

Rich (March 30, 2011)

The {Other Boy} (March 30, 2011)

Untitled (June 9, 2011)



Subscribe in a reader

.The {other} Boy.

(Go here to read what I posted on facebook last week.)

I come here tentatively, unsure of what words should be written and what ones should be hidden - some parts are too sacred, some parts are not mine to share, and in all of it I come praying that nothing I say exalts Jim or myself. None of this could have come about without Jesus in us. Left alone to ourselves we do not have the capacity for any of this. I will never, ever forget the day that God orchestrated for us to experience with Habtamu. I could hardly sleep the night before our scheduled lunch outing. I was excited and nervous not knowing what to expect.



He was waiting for us as soon as we got out of the van - biting his bottom lip and blinking his heavily lashed eyes in what I soon would learn was an adorable nervous habit. His arms squeezed me tight and I could practically feel the eagerness coursing through his veins. Habtamu took us around to the best shops on his street. Jim put a protective arm around him every time we entered a shop, as beggars and street children are not permitted inside. My heart melted as I watched the two weave in and out of the sea of brown faces while I stroked my sleeping Jamesy who was curled onto my chest.



We walked and talked and learned that Habtamu believed himself to be fourteen. My heart sank as fourteen is the age when children become unadoptable in Ethiopia. This sweet boy, who was still so much a child, walked confidently down the street he called home. He was so protective of me and was careful not to take us to the dangerous parts of the street. He told us that bad men were there and that they knocked the teeth out of the children who entered that section. I shuddered at the thought and tears pricked my eyes at this world Habtamu was living in so foreign from my own, cozy, safe childhood. (Later Jim remarked how he had seen masks being sold in the shops with human teeth in them and speculated that these were what the teeth were being harvested for.)



When we were in our van headed for lunch (Habtamu requested pizza), Habtamu asked to hold Jamesy. My eyes welled with tears as I marveled at the tenderness from a fourteen year old boy for an infant. He was a natural with him, and Jamesy seemed equally comfortable and equally smitten. Habtamu met my eyes with Jamesy secure in his arms. He is my brother. He said. Then he took off the rubber, Ethiopian bracelet that his wrist wore and handed it to me to give to Jamesy when he is grown to remind him of his Ethiopian brother. God, what are you trying to do to me - to tell me? I blinked back burning tears.

The afternoon continued on in a swirl of sweet memories that I will carry to the grave with me. Of teaching Habtamu to use a straw. Of giving him his first taste of iced-coffee - which was too cold for his shocked tastebuds! Of watching him interact with Jamesy and illicit belly laughs that we had yet to receive. Of teaching him how to use my camera and delighting in what he captured through the lens. Of touring the coffee factory because we could not bare to take him back to the street yet. And what stands out the most is the way he clung to us, the way his eyes danced and his shoulders squared when he told anybody and everybody we encountered that we were his family. That he was finally happy because he had a mom, a dad, and a brother. As we sat in the coffee factory waiting for our beans to be bagged my stomach turned with the realizing that shortly our time with Habtamu would be over. How would we just drive back to his street and drop him off? As my mind reeled and my heart bruised Jim began to speak with a man that had become our friend in Ethiopia. I still have no idea how it all came to be, but at the end of the conversation, our contact, Jim and I all had tears threatening to spill through our lashes and a plan devised. A plan that got Habtamu off of the streets that night. A plan where we could financially support Habtamu monthly and meet his needs for food, clothing, shelter, and education, and our sweet friend would be our go-between - our hands and feet in Ethiopia.

I will never forget the look on Habtamu's face when our friend spoke to him in Amharic and told him of our plan to care for him from afar - the way he melted into us and squeezed my hand fighting back the tears. What a brave boy, my Habtamu is, we pulled him from all he had known for the past four years, and now he is living alone as a 14 year old boy - practically unheard of here in the United States. We were flying home that night, and we got permission from the place we had stayed to allow Habtamu to stay in our room with no extra charge. (The next day our friend found him a place, purchased a mattress and gave him money for food.)

He showered and changed into his new clothes and walked around in awe of the electricity, the running water, the stove, the refrigerator, and I was struck with how much I take for granted. We enjoyed several more hours getting to know this boy who was burrowing deeper and deeper into our hearts. Jim played soccer with him in the court yard, we gave him the clothes and food we had brought. Jim emptied his suitcase of all of the clothes he was not wearing home and gave them to Habtamu. We left him with blankets and bandaids and water, with my running shoes (which I haphazardly had thrown in our suitcase at the last minute) because the sneakers we brought were too big - he wears the same size as I. We showed him pictures of our house - of our children. I talked about Jesus and left him a Bible. I rubbed his back and held his hand - noticing that he bites his nails - as he grew increasingly sad with our impending departure. We took turns hugging him as tears made rivers on all of our cheeks. Before leaving we football huddled and Jim prayed. My memory is burned with the image of Habtamu clinging to my husband and calling him dad. He's 14 years old. And yes, we are able to provide for him and meet some very real needs that he had. But the one thing that he is truly longing for is a family. Ironically enough the very thing many 14 year olds here in America take for granted. I believe if Jesus was right here He would tell us to stand up and fight for Habtamu. It's not even a question whether or not we should - especially when I stand back and see all of the details that were sovereignly and divinely orchestrated in order for us to cross paths with Habtamu on both trips. So now with one brown-eyed boy safely tucked next to our two blue-eyed babes we fight with all of our hearts for the other boy. Because if we don't - who will?

.My Answered Prayer.

I almost wish God had not answered my prayer. The one I prayed asking Him to shatter my heart. I guess I foolishly thought there was not much left to shatter. I thought that I was already pretty broken over orphans and poverty.

But I was wrong.

God answered my prayers today, and I didn’t expect the pain. I was so looking forward to today. We anticipated our morning out with the other families shopping for gifts and memories to give and tuck into our home – our lives. I had read about shopping. I had planned our list. I knew about the beggars, and the street children surrounding the shopping strip. I was informed of all of the opinions, from not looking the people in the eye, not giving out treats or money, to just ignoring them.

But how can one ignore pain when it stands before you wrapped in human flesh? I thought I had already gotten it. I had read the statistics, and cried thousands of tears, but I did not truly get it until I met him.

In Ethiopia, the orphanages are overflowing. (This is not what Jamesy is in. He is in a transitional home, getting loving care. He did come from an orphanage prior, however.) Because the orphanages are filled to the brim, children get kicked out onto the streets at age fourteen. At this time they officially become “unadoptable”, and are destined to a life of living hell.

Sister, Sister. His tender voice called.

I tried to ignore the first few times, and then my eyes met his. Brown eyes swallowing his face in pain.

You from America? He asked in in his beautiful accent, rolling his r’s off of his tongue.

Yes, I answered timidly.

I so hungry. His eyes pierced my heart.

My bags were stuffed with snacks just for this, but I knew it would not be safe to hand it out at that moment less we be mobbed with people. I didn’t know what to say, so I averted my eyes.

Will you be my Mama? Will you bring me to America? He asked so gently, so softly, so earnestly.

My throat closed as I, for the first time truly witnessed, an orphan. A beautiful child with no hope of a family, a life of misery laid before him. He followed me the entire time we shopped. Once crossing the street with some other boys, but never taking his eyes from me.

Eventually we returned to the van, and I beckoned to him from across the street through my gaping window. I handed him fistfuls of goodies – granola bars, trail mix, fruit snacks. He took them eagerly, looked deep inside of me and whispered, Thank you Sister. God Bless.

Then reaching into his worn, dirty pocket, he came out clutching a beaded bracelet.

This is for you Sister.

He grinned from ear to ear, as if he were giving me his most cherished possession. And I fear he might have been.

My heart broke in two at that moment as we pulled away from this boy, this child, destined for a life of misery on the cruel streets of Addis. As I run my fingers over the beads, our worlds collide, and the incomprehensible numbers - the statistics that I have read over and over, melt into a boy, with a soft voice that rolls his r’s, and ruined this woman.