Parenting Transformation Journey - Page 11
(Click here for page 1)

By the end of Tuesday, I found myself reflecting on the day and realized… we hadn’t really implemented anything. At least not in the way I usually think about it—no consequences, no corrections, no major interventions. So naturally I started to wonder: Am I still on track? Did I miss something? Was there something else I should be doing?

The idea of proactive parenting crossed my mind, but I drew a blank. What intentional thing should I be doing if there’s nothing urgent to respond to? The day before had been full of intentional parenting, but only because situations had come up that required a calm, measured response. This day felt… easy.

It was a good day. I spent time with the kids, got things done, and no one stirred the pot. Maybe I need to stop assuming that parenting only counts when it’s hard.

At sunset, I went for a walk with my girls and tried a new path in our neighborhood we hadn’t explored yet. It was beautiful. Check it out:

Still, I went to bed feeling like I hadn’t really done anything to implement the family government system I’ve been learning from Nicholeen Peck. There hadn’t been a “test” of my resolve. No emotional triggers to navigate. No reminders to stay calm and focused on long-term goals.

I wondered, Now what?

That’s when one of my kids texted me—from bed. Something was clearly on his mind. He opened up about how deeply homesick he was feeling for our old neighborhood. He told me how miserable and trapped he felt. Bored. Overwhelmed. Hating his life.

I reminded him that he could start planning a get-together with his old friends, something we’d talked about before. But he didn’t feel like he could focus on that with so many other pressures building—school, scouting, church assignments… all with looming deadlines. The confusion and stress were making the move feel even heavier.

And there it was. My parenting moment. My opportunity to be intentional instead of clocking out for the night.

We ended up talking for about an hour. Here’s a part of our conversation:

Me:
"I understand this is a hard thing for you. These feelings are valid, especially at this age. I moved when I was your age, and I remember feeling out of place."

Him:
"I don’t feel out of place… just like I’m in a cage."

Me:
"I also understand that you don’t believe it’s possible to feel at home here. But the truth is that you can learn to be happy no matter where you are—even in a prison camp."
[That’s a reference to Viktor Frankl.]
"If you apply yourself to the principles you've been taught, this move—and any other major life change in your future—can turn out to be one of the best things that ever happened to you.
Like it or not, that’s the absolute truth.
I’m trusting you with the principles.
I wouldn’t be raising you the way I am if I didn’t believe you could rise to the occasion. I’m so impressed with your ability to chuckle at stressful situations. That’s unusual—and it’s one of your gifts."

[I continued with more specific praise about his talents and strengths.]

"I know this caged feeling is stressful—and far too much to laugh about. I would never expect you to laugh about this. But here’s another truth: it is impossible to be happy without growing. And we don’t grow without doing uncomfortable things. Without doing hard things."

Him:
"Agreed."

Me:
"This situation is probably your first real life test. No fun. But I promise—it carries within it the seed of something great. And one day, you’ll look back on it as a blessing.
The sooner you accept what is, and let your spirit show you how to cope with it… the sooner you’ll learn what God has for you in it. And with that will come joy. Real joy."

We also talked about why it might actually be a good thing that his old friends aren’t always available. It might be opening up space for something else—something better—that he hasn’t yet discovered.

I reminded him that life isn’t just about these teenage years. It’s about all his years… and beyond.

I also shared that his older siblings all went through this same “caged and lonely” stage at his age. But back then, they didn’t even have the luxury of occasional visits or staying connected online. They felt completely alone—and still came out the other side with more friends than they knew what to do with. It just took time.

He pushed back: “At least their friends weren’t a two-hour bike ride away.”

I clarified:
"Son, they had nobody. Not at church. Not at school. Not across town. Nobody.
You're actually the first of my kids to have real, lasting friendships at this age."

Him:
"What do you mean?"

Me:
"They didn’t feel accepted. The kids who did pay them attention weren’t true friends. And maybe, just maybe, that’s part of the program.
Maybe everyone needs to feel what it’s like to be totally alone—to taste just a fraction of what Christ felt.
And maybe that’s what makes it possible to discover the reality of God. Not as an idea, but as a living, breathing being who knows your name and hears your prayers.
I don’t think teenagers really discover that truth—deep down—until they’ve been brought low enough to have nowhere else to go."

I know that’s deep. But I’m summarizing here. And I know it’s true—because I went through it myself at his age. At my lowest point, I discovered a relationship with God that changed everything. The pain, the loneliness—it all led to the peace and joy of knowing there was a Heavenly Father who cared about me.

Once I felt that, nothing else mattered.

Peer pressure lost its grip. And I want that for my kids.

So no—I don’t panic when they say they don’t have friends.
Because I know the potential reward.
But you only get the reward if you're willing to pay the price.
And loneliness is often the price for a real, lasting relationship with God.

So when my kids go through this—as they all apparently do—I don’t scramble to make it stop. I let them feel it. And I trust the process.
Because through it, they learn who they really are.
They learn to stand out instead of scrambling to fit in.

I try to help them see the possibilities when all they see is the pain.

It’s the Law of Polarity: within every adversity is the seed of an equal or greater benefit.
And the harder the trial feels, the bigger the potential reward—if you look at it the right way.

Yes, it’s hard as a parent to watch a child struggle. But I believe if we coach them through it—teach them true principles, and how to think about their challenges—then the struggle becomes a set-up for victory.

Before we ended the conversation, he asked if we might move again soon—still hoping we might return to the old neighborhood.

I told him it’s not likely, and that he has to be ready for anything.
I said,
"If this challenge triggers humility and a hunger to seek strength from God—instead of a typical teenage rebellion—then I know you’ll get what you really want, even faster."

We picked a date and time for the party and agreed he’d tell his friends the next morning. Then we moved on to the assignments that had been stressing him out.

We broke them into small pieces, and I offered to help him stay on track day by day.

Me:
"Btw, I just reviewed the assignment. There are 13 pages. I’m going to go over 2–3 pages a day with you. Okay? (Say ok) (It’s your choice… choice… choice… choice…)"
[Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs reference]

Him:
"Ok"

Me:
":) Picture creepy fingers wiggling away from your ears. Better get some sleep now—love you."

Him:
"Ooooooooooo. You too, thanks."

I went to bed really happy. I had watched his mood shift from depression to calm and hopeful in just one hour. And honestly, I’m really enjoying myself. I’m more engaged with my children’s learning and growth than I’ve ever been before. I’ve always wanted to be this kind of mom—and now, I am. I just had to decide that it’s never too late to start doing what you can now.

And finally… if anything I’ve shared here rubs you the wrong way, I only ask one thing before you leave a comment:
Please watch [this BBC episode] first. It’s a behind-the-scenes look at a life-saving surgery, and it shows how messy the middle can look.
Sometimes progress does look a little chaotic.
But I trust the process, and I trust the result.

Each post by itself won’t show the big picture—but that episode does. Enjoy.

_________________

•  To discover how to start choosing more effectively now, read The Jackrabbit Factor (FREE!) 
•  If you want more step-by-step guidance on creating the life you really want, join me in the Mindset Mastery program.
•  If you want my help overcoming that giant obstacle right in front of you, learn more and sign up for Genius Bootcamp.