The Light That Shines in All Seasons of Parenting

Presently parenting a high schooler, middle schooler, and primary schooler at the same time, my husband and I are continually adapting to the different stages our children are either entering or moving on from, each child needing (and demanding) varying degrees of independence.  

We are thankful to witness each of them gradually growing into the unique individuals that God has fearfully and wonderfully created them to be (Ps. 139:14) while we strive to train them up in the way they should go (Prov. 22:6). Amidst the ordinariness and dizzying activity are delightful glimpses of spring and summer buds, forming and flowering.

Parenting, however, embraces all seasons—spring and summer—as well as fall and winter, when the landscape, having shone in all its golden colours, slips into a seeming starkness that, at times, obscures the liveliness of the land. Monosyllabic answers to questions. Unenthused responses to efforts to nurture duty and discipline. Resistance to counsel. The snow still sparkles with a resplendent beauty, but sometimes we shiver from snaps of cold.    

Yet I have found that it is in these seasons of parenting that God exposes my weakness and sinfulness: every time I lose my patience, return unkindness, or judge self-righteously (“I would never…”), I am sobered by my desperate need for God to do a redemptive work in me, not just in my children.

Paul’s words in Romans 7 reflect my thoughts and feelings about the struggle of parenting: "For I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate… For I have the desire to do what is right, but not the ability to carry it out” (Rom. 7:15, 18-19). Every day I hope to seek God’s will in my interactions with my children, yet unforeseen temptations and emotional traps can catch me off guard; I respond out of impulse, hurt, or a fight for control. 

In my moments of exasperation, helplessness, and discouragement, God’s steadfast, loving presence is the bright and warming sun, no matter the season (Lam. 3:22-23; Rom. 7:24-25), and his Word the flowing stream that nourishes heart, mind, and soul (Ps. 1:1-3). On this path of parenting, reading solid Christian parenting books has been one way of shining the light of biblical truth at my stumbling feet (Ps. 119:105; Heb. 4:12). Given the countless encounters and exchanges I have with my children, a regular reminder of how my Christian faith ought to inform my words and actions is not merely helpful but needful.

A sample of this counsel illustrates this reality, such as my recent reading of William P. Smith’s Parenting with Words of Grace: Building Relationships with Your Children One Conversation at a Time.  

When I am tempted to return tone for tone:

“You learn to trust God’s heart for you based on his words to you when you’re not at your best, and your kids learn to trust your heart for them based on your words to them when they’re not at theirs.”

When I have a personal agenda while talking to the children that overlooks their personal needs:

“When you’re thinking about loving a person, you realize there are no guarantees. There’s no certain return on your investment. God doesn’t act like there is. He reaches out patiently, repeatedly to his children without telling you how they respond precisely because real love has no guaranteed outcome. But it tries anyway… love starts conversations without knowing where they’ll end up because it’s one way we verbally express the reality that it is better to give than to receive (Acts 20:35). If the only time I’ll talk to my kids is when I’m certain that I can shape an outcome I want, then I’m not really focused on them and their best interests. Instead, I’m caught up in my agenda and no longer considering my child as someone whose thoughts, opinion, desires, and interests are as important as my own.”

When I find myself showing less grace to my children:

“Read the Scriptures looking for gracious words from God [the author cites Gen. 3:15, Deut. 5:6, Isa.. 43:4, Jer. 29:11, John 15:15, Rom. 15:5, Phil. 1:6, Heb. 6:10, Rev. 7:17]… the words you use always reflect what you yourself have known. It’s as you live in a gracious relationship with God that you have a sense of what grace sounds like and, therefore, you have a sense of what to say to others. Conversely, if you don’t have a regular experience of God speaking graciously to you, then you won’t be able to give grace to the people around you.”

When, in my fatigue and weariness, I am tempted to become passive and uninvolved in my parenting:

“You tend not to initiate conversations when you feel:

Tired from a long day.

Clumsy because you never seem to know what to say.

Intimidated by the topic.

Consumed with things that have to get done.

Impotent to solve problems or make them go away.

Preoccupied by something else that you find more interesting.

Criticized whenever you don’t say what someone else wants to hear.

Scared that others will shut down if they think you’re being nosy.

Apprehensive because past conversations ended badly.

Exposed by the foolish or angry things that you might say.

Threatened by someone else’s potential reaction.

Unwanted by the person you’re trying to engage.

… there are so many variations on the common themes of self-protection and self-absorption that keep us from starting helpful conversations with our children. The end result, however, is the same: by not talking with your kids you’re setting them up to believe things about the world that aren’t true.”

When, in my fatigue and weariness, I wish parenthood felt easier:

“. . . Don’t wish those moments away. Don’t sigh or frown or look surprised when they come up. Don’t long for low-maintenance kids who never need you to step in and say anything. Stop wishing you were raising Pharisees—kids who look good on the outside but are in deep trouble inside. Jesus did not purchase you with his blood so that you could waste your time wishing you had an easy life—a life of being utterly useless to the people around you. He purchased you with his blood so that you could be a priest who deals gently with people who are ignorant and going astray.”

When the snowy landscape of adolescence blinds me from the transforming life that thrives beneath it:

“…I need to be tuned in to what my children are working on in their lives, and that can be difficult for me. I find that I assume too often that they’re not working on anything. Or I get upset because I see them doing a million irritating things that I think they should have corrected long ago. That mindset isn’t helpful as it only serves to supercharge my critical nature.

I find it sobering in those moments to stop and realize that there are still, conservatively speaking, probably several million things that God needs to work out in my life. Oddly enough, he seems to focus me on only one or two of them at a time…

That means it’s vital for your ministry of encouragement to be keyed into looking for what God is doing in the lives of your children… Look hard. Where do you see him softening your children’s consciences? Convicting them of sin?... the process by which someone matures is just as important as the end result because the process leads to the result.”

All of my children have, at one time or another, asked me—if I could have any superpower, what would I want. I give them the same “boring, Mom” answer every time: to be able to remember everything I read. These entries are one way to help me remember the wisdom I have read and to bless others with spiritual wisdom on parenting. I look forward to sharing more.