I’m sure every generation of parents has had to have some tricky and awkward conversations with their children. Just read your Old and New Testaments and you’ll see the kind of sexual chaos that has often been tolerated or celebrated in various times and places. Each one of these manifestations of rebellion against God has needed an explanation from parents who are committed to raising their children in the discipline and instruction of the Lord.

Today’s parents are raising their children in a time of rapid cultural change when the specific forms of rebellion and the questions they raise are different from previous generations—sometimes subtly different and sometimes utterly and completely different. Parents can easily feel overwhelmed and may respond by attempting to shelter their children nearly completely and indefinitely. Yet wise parents know they need to prepare their children to live in this world and not some other. They know there are ideas they need to introduce, concepts they need to explain, and conversations they need to have.

What Do I Say When…? is a guide for parents who want to help their children and teens navigate today’s cultural chaos. Written by husband and wife duo Andrew and Christian Walker, it has ten chapters, each of which is devoted to an aspect of modern Western culture. Each one introduces the topic and explains what God says about it, which provides a brief biblical foundation for parents to begin with.

After that, each chapter advances to a guide to help parents discuss these matters with their children. Each guide is helpfully divided into three parts or, in the authors’ parlance, three “floors.” The first is for children between roughly four and eight years of age, the second for children between eight and twelve, and the third for teens up to around age 16. This ensures the conversations are appropriate to differing ages and levels of maturity.

The different topics range from human dignity and abortion to gender and transgenderism to identity and sexuality. They also cover technology, political engagement, and hostility against those who hold to the Christian faith. Each chapter is relatively brief—perhaps 15 pages or so—and provides just enough information for parents to help lay a solid foundation in the lives of their children and engage in useful training and conversation.

Many parents feel the need for some assistance as they help their children navigate today’s cultural chaos. What Do I Say When…? is just the right resource. It will give parents the information and the confidence they need to train their children well—to help them understand the truths of Scripture that counter every error of culture. It will equip parents to in turn equip their children so they can live well as faithful disciples of Jesus Christ.

I sometimes think about David—King David who longed to be the temple-builder but who learned he would need to content himself with being the temple-preparer. He had the vision, he laid out the plan, he gathered the material. But he did not live to see as much as one stone laid upon another.

David’s motives were good. He knew that while he lived in a fine palace of cedar, the ark of God was still in a plain tent of skins. He was grieved by this, and rightly so. The prophet Nathan saw it too and said to David, “Go, do all that is in your heart, for the LORD is with you.” But God immediately intervened and laid out a better plan. “When your days are fulfilled and you lie down with your fathers, I will raise up your offspring after you, who shall come from your body, and I will establish his kingdom. He shall build a house for my name, and I will establish the throne of his kingdom forever” (2 Samuel 7:12–13).

God’s plan was that David would be a man of war who would destroy the enemy, subdue the land, and establish the monarchy. When that had been accomplished, David’s reign would give way to the reign of his son and Solomon would be a man of peace who could focus on building and consolidating. Solomon’s greatest work would be the temple in Jerusalem.

I sometimes think it must have been hard for David to learn that he would not be the temple-builder. It must have been disappointing when his idea was sound and his motives were pure. He longed to build a house that would display the glory of the Lord, a temple befitting Israel’s God. It must have been hard to know that he would never build it and that he would never see it.

But then I also know what it is to be a father and to take pride in the achievements of my children. I had not been a father for long when I learned that the least of my children’s accomplishments by far outshines the greatest of my own. Their smallest victory generates more delight than my largest and their smallest feat proves more significant than my greatest. Any joy that comes from my own achievements pales in comparison to the joy that comes with theirs.

Any parent knows this, which is why we so easily pull our own diplomas from the walls to make room for our children’s and why we relegate our old trophies to the attic so we can display theirs. Our albums fill with pictures of our children and we recount to others their every accomplishment and their every victory. “I have no greater joy than to hear that my children are walking in the truth,” wrote John. And we intuitively understand this. We have no greater joy than knowing our children are walking in the truth, walking in love, walking in competence, or merely walking at all!

And so even while David may be been sorrowful that he would not be the one to build the temple, he must have been overjoyed to know that the task would fall to his son. Even while he grieved that he would never see it, it must have warmed his heart to know that his son would not only see it but build it. The least accomplishment of his child must have counted for infinitely more than the greatest of his own. For that’s simply what it is to be a parent.

Many people cautioned me about the teenage years. Many people warned that the joys of parenting little ones would eventually give way to the grind of parenting bigger ones. They told me horror stories based on their own experiences, then assured me that I should prepare myself for all kinds of difficulties and all kinds of sorrows.

They were wrong. At least in our case, they were wrong. Parenting teens has not been without its challenges, of course, for there is nothing in this life that comes without challenges. Nothing worthwhile, at least. But it has been my experience that the teenage years have come with joys far beyond the joys of the little years. Parenting teens has been a pleasure and a privilege. It has been an honor and blessing. So for those who have been warned only of the trials to come, let me recount some of the joys.

Parenting teens has given me the joy of seeing my children become Christians. I know that many people can and do make legitimate professions of faith when they are tiny, but I also know that the teenage years are crucial, that a profession is proven when the child has been challenged by the world, the flesh, and the devil, and is capable of rebellion, of turning away. It was in the teenage years that I had the privilege of seeing all three of my children profess faith, get baptized, and be received as members of the church.

Parenting teens has given me the joy of seeing my children begin to make their own decisions—to make decisions that are significant and life-shaping, yet decisions that are wise and honoring to God. It is good to have children who are obedient and who will do the bidding of mom and dad, but it is better by far to have children who are wise and who do the bidding of God.

Parenting teens has given me the joy of seeing my children honor their parents. I expected young children to obey and we trained them to do so all the way, right away, and with a proper attitude. But I expected that as our children got older, obedience would give way to honor, that the compulsion to obey would give way to the desire to respect. And it has been a blessing to see that happen, to see our relationships change in just the ways God expects them to.

Parenting teens has given me the joy of seeing my children take church seriously. All of my children left home at 17 or 18 to attend college hundreds of miles away. This meant that each of them had to find a new church community. And each of them did. They all chose a different church, but they all chose a good church where the gospel is proclaimed and where they could deploy their gifts in service to others.

Parenting teens has given me the joy of becoming friends with my children. Over time I found common ground with each of them—similar interests, shared gifts, complementary passions. As the children grew into adults and started to become peers, friendship sprang up where there had been only the relationship between child and parent. Having raised these children, it is now a blessing to count them as friends.

Parenting teens has given me the joy of seeing children fall in love and get engaged and even get married. What a blessing it has been to see them begin to leave and to cleave. This has, of course, also given me the joy of adding new people to our family—new people to get to know and new people to come to love. As the family has grown, love has grown all the more.

Parenting teens has given me each of these joys and so many more besides.

I was often warned of the struggles of parenting teens but rarely told of the blessings. I was often assured that it would be a time of difficulty but rarely encouraged that it would be a time of pleasure. Yet the years have proven that the joys of parenting teens have far exceeded the sorrows and the blessings have far exceeded the troubles. In fact, it hasn’t even been close. And as these years draw to their close not too long from now, I know I will remember them with fondness. I will remember them as the best years yet, even while expecting even better years ahead.

Some time ago I read an advice column that responded to a woman who had become disillusioned with her husband and enamored with someone else. And as I read it I thought to myself, “I’m pretty sure that’s exactly how Satan would counsel if he was asked.” That got me thinking about how Satan might function as a marriage counselor and also how he might function as a parenting expert. To that end…

If Satan wrote a book on parenting, he would insist that children are primarily a lifestyle choice, a kind of accessory to life some people may choose and others may reject according to their own desires. He would insist that there is no intrinsic good in having children and that God doesn’t much care whether married couples choose to have them or not. He would want them to shrug off as quaint or antiquated the passages in Scripture that say things like “children are a heritage from the Lord, the fruit of the womb a reward” (Psalm 127:3) or the Creation Mandate that says, “Be fruitful and multiply and fill the earth and subdue it” (Genesis 1:28). “It doesn’t matter what God wants,” he would say. “What matters is what you want.”

If Satan wrote a book on parenting, he would want people who have children to feel superior to those who want to but cannot. He would want those who are unable to have children to feel that God must somehow be opposed to them or be punishing them and want them to believe that they are missing out on something essential to the good and God-honoring life. He would want such people to feel miserable while others held them as objects of pity or divine disfavor.

If Satan wrote a book on parenting, he would want people to regard children as mostly a bother, as a choice that tends to hamper happiness as much as it enhances or amplifies it. He would want parents to think more of the financial cost, the cost to a free and affluent lifestyle, or the cost to vocational progress. He would want couples to dread children even more than they desire them.

If Satan wrote a book on parenting, he would want parents who don’t regard children as a bother to regard them as the whole point and purpose of life, to treat them like little gods. He would want parents to form their entire identity around their children and to be held idolatrously captive to them.

If Satan wrote a book on parenting, he would be sure to tell his readers that the world’s population is a problem, and that the earth is suffering because of the number of human beings who inhabit it. Therefore, humanity ought to do its best to suppress the birthrate, and to have smaller families rather than larger ones. He would want people to hesitate to have children at all and to feel a sense of guilt and remorse should they choose to have them. “The most responsible people choose not to procreate,” he would say. “You need to think about this faltering planet.”

If Satan wrote a book on parenting, he would want parents to believe that there is no great benefit to raising children in the context of a family, much less a traditional family made up of one man married to one woman, covenantally bound together for life. He would insist that children can be equally conceived and birthed in any number of ways, to any combination of people, for any given reason.

If Satan wrote a book on parenting, he would want parents to think that a genetic link between parents and their children is so important that they should not even consider adopting children. He would want them to regard biological children as intrinsically superior to adopted children. He would love to hear people express that adoption is too dangerous, too uncertain, and too disruptive to even consider.

If Satan wrote a book on parenting, he would want parents to believe that their children’s defiance is simple, sinless, and inconsequential. He would want parents to tacitly believe that children are born in a state of innocence rather than sinfulness and that parents should express no great concern when their children defy them, rebel against them, and act out against them. After all, “kids will be kids.”

If Satan wrote a book on parenting, he would want parents to believe it is best to refrain from disciplining their children. Though the Bible may say “Discipline your son, and he will give you rest; he will give delight to your heart,” (Proverbs 29:17) Satan would insist that children have no need of consistent discipline. To the contrary, he would insist that consistent discipline will hurt them, harm them, or possibly even destroy them. He would insist that any discipline, and especially physical discipline, is tantamount to abuse.

If Satan wrote a book on parenting, he would want you to believe that if you do choose to discipline your children, it is best to flex some muscle and lay a good beating on them. He would want you to think that they respond best to the fear of your fury. He would want you to set aside self-control in your discipline and to hit them hard, to hit them frequently, and to hit them without mercy. He would not want you to consider the contradiction that you shouldn’t discipline them, but when you do, you should discipline them abusively.

If Satan wrote a book on parenting, he would want you to raise them in strict accordance with law rather than gospel, with strict rules rather than free grace. He would want parents to physically discipline them, then abandon them in their pain and misery, wondering how they can once again earn their parents’ favor. He would never want the consequences of their sin to lead to a discussion of the gift of God’s forgiving grace through Christ.

If Satan wrote a book on parenting, he would want people to believe that it is the task of children to teach their parents more than it is the task of parents to teach their children. He has ably presented in a host of modern shows and movies that children, by virtue of their youthful innocence and their greater ability to understand the modern world, have wisdom their parents lack. Parents, after all, are jaded by their many years and their antiquated experiences. They should humbly listen to their children and be taught by them rather than the opposite.

If Satan wrote a book on parenting, he would want parents to know that they should prioritize their children ahead of their marriage. He would want parents to prefer their children to one another, to orient their lives around their children instead of around their marriage. Ideally, he would pit a husband against his wife and a wife against her husband in the raising of the children and in all their activities.

If Satan wrote a book on parenting, he would want parents to believe that children must be kept constantly busy, and that they thrive best when they are enrolled in every extracurricular course and play on every team. He would want all of this activity to dominate the family’s time and attention. He would insist it’s best if the family reaches the end of the week and collapses with exhaustion because of all they have done.

If Satan wrote a book on parenting, he would want parents to prioritize participation in sports and activities ahead of participation in the local church. The church should take second or third place in their list of priorities. “There is time for that later in life; at this stage it is best to immerse them in activities and experiences. And if you’re worn out and need a day of rest, rest at home on Sunday.”

If Satan wrote a book on parenting, he would want people to believe children are sexual creatures who need to have their sexuality awoken at a very early age. They should see many things, have many experiences, and consider many options and alternatives. He would love and laud a term like “gender assigned at birth.” “Let them see all kinds of expressions of gender and sexuality, let them ask who they are and how they would like to express themselves. Let them do this at the youngest age possible.”

If Satan wrote a book on parenting, he would prescribe that parents give their children early and unfettered access to electronic devices and social media platforms. “Let them use TikTok. Let them browse Instagram. Let them spend their days on Reddit. No harm will come.”

If Satan wrote a book on parenting, he would want people to believe that children belong to society as much as to parents and that the government ought to have more of a say in their raising than their own parents. He would want society to regard family as a hindrance or even a danger to a child’s freedom of self-expression. “Let them be who and what they want at school and be certain you never tell the parents.”

If Satan wrote a book on parenting, he would want parents to be a little embarrassed about their faith in Jesus Christ, to think it’s best if parents don’t really raise their children in “the discipline and instruction of the Lord,” but instead help them keep their options open. “Don’t emphasize family devotions or you may just turn them off the faith; don’t read them the Bible before bed or they will think you’re a zealot; don’t insist they participate in the life of the church or they’ll someday turn against it all.”

Come to think about it, as I look at the world around me, I can’t help but wonder if Satan actually has written a book on parenting because it seems so many are obeying his instructions and following his advice…

I’m sure it has always been difficult for parents to speak with their children about matters related to sex and sexuality. I’m not just talking about the birds and the bees, but about the wider issues that may be unique to every time and culture. I expect parents in the New Testament era needed to consider how they would speak to their children about pederasty, concubinage, temple prostitution, and many other societal perversions.

So while there is nothing unique about today’s parents needing to discuss sex and sexuality with their children, there is something unique about the particular issues. There are entire categories that are unfamiliar, novel, and just plain made up. And even among Christians there may be debates about what’s right and what’s wrong. Is it sinful to experience same-sex attraction or only sinful to act on it? Does it matter how a person identifies as long as they don’t actually embrace a forbidden lifestyle? What is gender dysphoria and how should we guide people who experience it? Many of these questions would have been considered absurd when today’s parents were growing up. But now they are having to address them in order to equip their children to live in this world.

With so many issues to consider, with so many of them being new, and with so much at stake, parents would benefit from some guidance. And it has come in The Holy Sexuality Project, a new video curriculum by Christopher Yuan.

I have told Christopher’s story before in a series I titled “Christian Men and Their Godly Moms.” The short version, which he recounts in the opening lesson of this series, is that in his younger days he was agnostic and proudly living a homosexual lifestyle. His mother determined she would pray him into the Kingdom and, through a series of events that included arrest, imprisonment, and a diagnosis of HIV, he came to Christ and committed himself to the Lord’s cause. He has since co-written a book with his mother (Out of a Far Country) that tells his story and a written a second book on God’s design for sexuality (Holy Sexuality and the Gospel). The Holy Sexuality Project is a natural follow-up.

The series is comprised of 12 lessons, each of which is in the neighborhood of 20 minutes long. He begins by telling his story and then progresses to matters of identity, attraction, and action. In these lessons, he discusses the image of God, the doctrine of sin, and the nature of desire and temptation. He explains why God created sex and how he means for us to use this gift. From here he considers marriage and singleness. With this in place, he moves to the issues that are most pertinent today—same-sex attraction, homosexuality, transgenderism, and so on. He examines the Bible passages opponents of Christianity use to refute long-accepted sexual morality. In the final set of lessons, he considers how to minister to those who struggle with their sexuality and calls on Christians to be willing to simply follow Jesus, no matter the cost. All of this is filmed and edited with extremely high production values, making it a package that is easy and enjoyable to watch. There’s a guide for parents to help them as they lead their teens in discussions related to the lessons.

Of great importance is the fact that Christopher discusses each of these things in a manner that is plain but not explicit. While he needs to include some details about his own story, he never crosses boundaries and never revels in his past (as, sadly, some Christians seem to do). This curriculum is designed specifically for parents and teens, and families can watch it together without cringing and without it being awkward. It is tremendous value at just $20.

I was able to watch the series before it launched and was glad to write this little endorsement: I am so thankful for The Holy Sexuality Project! It addresses many of today’s most urgent issues on matters of sex and sexuality and does so in a way that is deeply grounded in the Bible’s timeless truths. The material is presented in a sober and dignified way that makes it appropriate for Christian families or church groups. Dr. Christopher Yuan is just the right person to speak on this subject and this series is in just the right format. It would be difficult to recommend it too highly.

I have been building an ongoing relationship with a person who adheres to a very different religion than my own. He is as committed to his faith as I am to mine and is as eager to speak to me as I am to him. It makes for some engaging and enjoyable conversation. I recently asked him what hope he has beyond the grave, what certainty he can have about life after death. “As you venture off into what comes beyond what we see and know, what confidence do you have of a warm welcome?”

His answer was that he has very little confidence. He is doing his best to live by the tenets of his faith, to be a good and moral and upright person. He worships when he is meant to worship, prays when he is meant to pray, and gives when he is meant to give. He is aware that he sometimes falls short, but responds to his transgressions and shortcomings by redoubling his efforts. He is all-in and doing all he can. But while he seems to be doing everything right, he still has no confidence when it comes to whatever happens after death. Why?

The answer does not lie in his own efforts or in the clarity of the instructions given in his scriptures. Rather, the answer lies in the character of the god he worships. His god, though said to be very powerful, is not known to be patient or kind. Though said to demand the highest of moral standards, he is not known to be completely consistent in his judgments. He can be harsh, he can be arbitrary, he can vary his standards. Though he is the being who created humanity, he does not reveal himself as compassionate toward them. And for those reasons his followers live their lives relating to a god who shows little love, little tenderness, little compassion. They are always uncertain about his posture toward them, always guessing at the nature of his relationship toward them. And them, at the end, they head toward death uncertain about whether they will go to eternal life or eternal death, to glory or judgment.

As I walked away from our most recent conversation, I found myself reflecting on the sheer wonder of compassion. Aren’t you thankful that our God is compassionate toward us? Aren’t you thankful that God promises he is close to the brokenhearted and that he saves those who are crushed in spirit? Aren’t you thankful that he promises he will not break a bruised reed and that he will not snuff out a smoldering wick? Aren’t you thankful that just as a father shows compassion to his children, so the LORD shows compassion to those who fear him? It is this fatherly heart of God that is especially relatable and therefore especially precious.

When Abby went off to college I wanted to assure her that I would continue to care about her and care for her. I told her what I will also tell her sister when she heads off this fall: “You only ever need to say ‘Daddy, I need you,’ and I will be on my way. By the time you finish your sentence you’ll hear the front door slam and the car engine start and the tires screech. I’ll be on my way to you.” Because that’s what it is to be a father—to respond to our children when they cry out for us. Surely no good father would hear his daughter cry out in hunger and give her a rock or hear his son cry out in anguish and hand him a snake. Surely no concerned father would hear his child cry for help and turn his back. And the best of human fathers, of course, is but the palest imitation of our heavenly Father.

Our God draws very close to us in our sorrows—the sorrow of pain, the sorrow of loss, the sorrow of betrayal, the sorrow of loneliness, the sorrow of facing our own sinfulness and fallibility. And, of course, the sorrow of facing our own mortality. Our God is most present just when he is most needed—ever ready and ever eager to offer his sweet comfort. His compassion—his wondrous fatherly compassion—draws him near to us when we so desperately need his help.

I won’t ever forget the day we dropped Nick at college. We had driven him down to Louisville, Kentucky where he had enrolled in pre-seminary studies at Boyce College. We had helped get his little dorm room all set up. We had dropped by the bookstore and picked up the last of his textbooks. We had attended the orientation meetings and the chapel service. We had huddled together to pray. And now there was just one thing left to do—begin our journey home and leave him behind.

As I drove along Lexington Road and made my way toward I-64, Aileen sat beside me and wept. She did not weep gently. She did not weep in such a way as to have a few tears trickle gently down her cheeks. No, she wept as if her heart had been torn in two. Hours later we arrived home and, as we began to settle in for the evening, I had my own moment of emotion when it came time to lock the doors, for I realized that I was no longer locking all my children in to the safety of our home, but this time locking one of them out.

We adjusted quickly, of course. Nick thrived at Boyce and we took great joy in his joy. How could we lament his absence when he was doing so well, learning so much, and growing so substantially in wisdom and godliness? Two years later we had to do it again when Abby headed down to join him. We found her departure a little bit easier having gone through it once, but also a little bit harder in that it came in the midst of a pandemic that had very nearly closed the border between our countries. In August of this year we will do it all again, Lord willing, when Michaela journeys down to take up her studies there. This time we will be empty-nesters, at least for the duration of the school year.

A friend recently asked for some guidance for parents whose children are leaving home, perhaps to go to school or perhaps to join the military or perhaps just to begin an independent life. “What counsel might you give them” she asked? I thought I’d take a few minutes to consider it. Here’s what I came up with.

First, I would encourage parents to deliberately begin loosening their oversight well before their children leave. We do not serve our children well when we maintain rigid control over them while they are in the home but then simply release them when they leave. It’s far better to begin to release control when we are still present to observe and to guide them. It’s not the worst thing in the world if they fail a few times when mom and dad are still nearby to provide them a soft landing.

Second, treat them like adults. You need to do your kids the dignity of treating them like grown-ups and not like children. This involves giving them adult privileges, but also requiring adult expectations. I expect you will generally find that they are eager to prove themselves by rising to those expectations.

Third, I would encourage those parents to carefully distinguish between matters of preference and matters of absolute right and wrong. What I mean is that your child is probably going to be out of your home for all of two weeks before they get a tattoo or a piercing, or before they begin sporting some new fashion choices or a new hairstyle. Kids who are raised in a Christian home often seem to feel the need to express themselves in ways like these. And while it may not be your preference, you’ll need to consider whether or not you treat them as if they’ve sinned. (Hint: they probably haven’t; also, see my second point above.)

Fourth, help them find a good church. Make sure that when they depart to a new school they are also departing to a new church. I’m always glad when parents contact me to say, “my child is moving to Toronto to go to school; can you tell me about your church?” I’m always glad to welcome those students when they begin to attend. And I’m sure most pastors are the same. I would generally encourage students to become members of the church they go to when at school since they will be there for more time than they’ll be at home. Plus, it’s good for them to go through a membership process independent of their parents.

Fifth, clarify expectations about relationships. It would be helpful for you to distinguish between “I think it would be wise for you to refrain from dating during your freshman year so you can focus on adjusting to college and building friendships” versus “I forbid you to date in your freshman year.” Give them that clarity and remember to treat them like adults.

Sixth, write them letters. I’m sure you’ll be calling, texting, and FaceTiming with your kids, but there is still something special about letters. Leave a letter with your children when you drop them off for the first time and then make it your habit to write to them every few weeks. They may not reply since you probably never taught them how to write and address a letter but they will read, keep, and treasure the ones you send them. Also, why not send them care packages from time to time.

Seventh, find the balance between letting them go and remaining involved in their lives. Don’t stalk them or obsess about them, but also don’t utterly abandon them. Remain in contact and make yourself available for counsel. But also be sure to grant them their independence. It may take some trial and error, but you’ll find the right balance.

Finally, commend them to the grace of God, trusting in your own heart that God loves them even more than you do and that his plan for them is even better than your own. Pray for them and pray with them as you part and make this your final and ultimate petition before the Lord: nevertheless, not as I will but as you will.

Oh, and remember to treat them like adults. But I’m pretty sure we already covered that.

(Got something to add? Feel free to leave a Facebook comment.)

I have said a lot about Nick over the past two years. I have written a lot of articles and done quite a number of interviews and even published a book. And I have been aware all the while that I can only speak to a small part of our loss, for there were many people who loved Nick and many who lost him. Today is the second anniversary of his death and I asked Aileen if she felt ready to write something. She said she did, and so today I am turning things over to her.

❖

When I was in Nashville for the Seasons of Sorrow book launch, Tim was asked several times “how are your wife and daughters doing?” It was asked often enough that, upon reflection, I think people understand that Tim has been nuancing the way he talks about my experience with grief as well as that of our girls. He has been very careful to only give voice to his experience of the last few years, and to word it in such a way that people don’t assume that the rest of the family’s experience necessarily matches his. I love him for this, and appreciate it very much. After all, Tim’s story is only part of the story. That’s because a dad’s grief is different from a mom’s grief. This makes sense. God has created each person to be unique which means each person’s experience of grief is unique. Each person’s relationship with the deceased is different as well, and this lends itself to differences in how each person grieves him. Adding another layer of complexity, each circumstance of loss is different as well. As we hear from people who have lost loved ones, I am continually struck by how different and unique each situation is, how grief shows differently in each person and each circumstance. This must be another example of how we are fearfully and wonderfully made.

Tim recently asked if for the second anniversary of Nick’s death I would be willing to write something about it—something that may help answer the question of how I am doing.

I was told it would probably take about two years before I felt anything close to back to normal, and it very much feels like the end of year two is the beginning of a new season. Because of this, it feels appropriate to look back and ponder what I am thankful for.

I am thankful for God preparing me.

God has been kind. He gave us one of the hardest things and yet he also gave so much to help us survive. Looking back, I now see how he prepared me years ago to weather such a storm. He blessed me by giving me a bedrock of theology that in my weakest moment I had to simply deploy. I can see how he gave us what we needed moment by moment to continue to walk in faith through such suffering. When nothing felt true, when God didn’t feel kind, when he didn’t feel good, when he didn’t feel just, I had a choice: I could choose to believe what my heart and my emotions were telling me—that God was cruel, unkind and unjust—or I could choose to believe what my mind knew to be true of God’s character and trust that eventually my emotions would catch up to my brain. There are days when this is still a struggle, but I have learned not to trust my feelings. Emotions cannot inform truth. Rather, truth must inform emotions. God didn’t abandon us, he walked with us and prepared us. I had to choose to see his presence, but he was there. I am so thankful that in his mercy he prepared me.

I am thankful for God’s sovereignty.

God’s sovereignty is both comforting and terrifying at the same time. I think in the abstract I knew the Lord could choose to do anything he wanted in our lives. But suddenly, on November 3, I learned dramatically that he actually will do anything. Even so, I am so thankful God is in control. This situation would be only worse if God had no control over it. God had every right to choose this for us. I may not much like it, but I know he has purpose in it. As humans we seem to have a driving need to understand why things are happening. It makes us feel better if we can attribute a specific purpose to the hardships we are experiencing. But the reality is that in our human weakness and frailty, God has not given us that ability. We can guess, we can suspect, but we cannot know. God instead gives us knowledge of his sovereignty, and asks us to trust, by faith, that all things work together for our good and his glory. How this is true in Nick’s death I do not know. I don’t expect to ever know, on this earth, the full purpose of this suffering in our lives. But, I do know one day it will all make sense. I can wait, patiently, trusting in God’s character. I am thankful he sees the big picture, that he is in control of all things, and that nothing happens outside his will. I am thankful that God is sovereign.

I am thankful this is temporary.

I also know that as hard as this is, it is all temporary. Initially we divided the days up by doing the next hard thing. That might have been the call to the coroner or the call to the funeral home. It might have been picking out clothing or packing up belongings. But for a long while our life was divided into segments, defined by the next hard thing we had to do. As time has gone on those hard things have grown further apart. Even so, the reality is we will always have the next hard thing we have to do. Life in this fallen world dictates it. But one day, there will no longer be the next hard thing. I am so thankful that this world is not our home. Until that day, when the Lord calls me home, my job on this earth is not yet done. So I will wait patiently, enduring what I need to until one day there will be no more mourning, no more crying or pain, and every tear will be wiped away and death shall be no more. I am so thankful this is temporary.

Lastly, I am thankful I got to be Nick’s mom.

I have wanted to tell you all about Nick, but as I began to write this out I found that I still can’t. Another time perhaps, when the pain is a little less raw, when my heart hurts just a little bit less, I’ll be able to share a bit more about my firstborn, the one who first made me a mom. God in his mercy gave me a son who brought light and joy to my life for 20 years. Despite all the sadness, I am so very thankful I got to be a mom to my Nick.

A few days after Nick’s death I wrote to a friend of mine and I expressed my longing for the day joy would return. I knew logically that one day it would come, but looking forward all I could see was heartache and sorrow. These have been hard, hard days. But God in his kindness and mercy has sustained us. We have grieved and mourned and wept. But as the two-year mark draws to a close, I am seeing that joy return—joy that is less tainted by sorrow. I am thankful. God has been present. And I think I will end here as I have ended every note I have written in the last two years: God is still good.

This is a special photo as it captured the first moment Nick began to respond to Aileen and ‘talk’ back to her.

In the name of God, I, being of sound mind and body, bequeath to my children the small store of wealth and the few possessions I have been able to accumulate over a lifetime of labor. I divide these equally among my children and ask them to accept it all with my blessings—to keep it or to give it away as they see fit.

Of infinitely greater value, I bequeath to them all the fervent prayers I have made for their salvation and their sanctification—prayers I began to pray before they were born and prayers I continued to pray until the day of my death.

I bequeath to them the Christian religion that has encouraged and sustained me for so many decades. This is the faith that has given me so much joy and comfort since Christ became my Lord and Savior, the faith they heard from my lips and the faith they learned by my example. I trust that it will bless them every bit as richly as it has me.

I bequeath to them the love of a father who, though imperfect, loved them truly and purely—who loved them in a pale but purposeful imitation of the perfect love of the perfect Father.

I bequeath to them the hope that they may imitate whatever in me was true, honest, just, pure, lovely, and worthy of praise. And equally I bequeath to them the hope that they may eschew any errors I made, that they may avoid the sins they saw in me, that they may be holier and godlier than their father ever was.

I bequeath to them the sure confidence of a glorious family reunion when their pilgrimage, like mine, comes to its end and when together we shall meet again to inherit riches innumerable and eternal.

And finally I bequeath to them the one possession that symbolizes all of this—the Bible we read from through so many years of family worship. May it remind them of the days we gathered as a family to read and to pray, and may it continue to be a lamp to their feet and a light to their path that illumines the way to heaven.

In the name of the God who created me, the Savior who redeemed me, and the Spirit who sanctifies me—the triune God whom I call as witness—I make this a Christian father’s last will and testament.

Inspired by The Wedding Ring by De Witt Talmage

I’ve come to the conclusion that Aileen and I parent weirdly. But I’ve also come to the conclusion that so does everyone else. When each of us looks at other parents, there are almost invariably some components of their parenting we would love to imitate, but others that strike us as, well, a little bit weird. This is why it is rare, or perhaps even impossible, to find a parenting book that we would follow completely rather than only partially. And that’s well and good—every family is different, every set of parents unique, every context distinct from every other. While the Bible gives us the broad outline of parenting, it leaves us to fill in the details in ways we believe are most faithful.

John and Cindy Raquet parent as weirdly as any of us, but their weirdnesses generally overlap with my own, and it’s for that reason that I so enjoyed reading their book Purposeful and Persistent Parenting. Thirty-one brief chapters form a good-sized book that offers a helpful combination of theory and practice.

The Raquets begin in just the right place—with a look at grace-filled parenting, by which they mean a kind of parenting in which the parents acknowledge that they themselves are the recipients of God’s grace and are then eager to display a similar grace to their children. “As grace-filled parents our relationship with our children is not based on their performance. We love them whether they obey us or not. We act in their best interest whether they obey us or not. They are just as much our sons or daughters whether they obey us or not. Our relationship with them and attitude toward them is not contingent on how they respond to us.”

Another pair of crucial opening chapters counter contemporary attitudes by reminding readers that God counts children as a blessing more than a burden and that God’s calling on parents is not first to impress or befriend their children, but to simply parent them. “If God has given you children, then you can be confident that it is God’s will for you to parent them. It is imperative for us as parents to understand that our primary role is to be our child’s parent. When we feel like we need to be more than that, we lose confidence and can start second-guessing ourselves, to the point that we start looking to the child to be making decisions that we should be making.”

The chapters that follow deal with consistency in parenting, with helping children understand they are not the center of the family (or of the universe, for that matter), with spiritual training, with developing an orientation that counts others ahead of self, and with physical discipline. In other brief chapters they deal with mealtimes, sitting still, whining, reading together, doing chores, setting family schedules, and so on. They conclude with a strong call for parents to align themselves toward faithfulness more than results. “To be sure, God has set things up such that there is a strong connection between what we as parents do and how our children respond, but it is a wrong or even arrogant attitude to think that we completely determine how our children think and behave by our parenting.”

It bears mentioning that, by their own admission, the Raquets live with an unusually high level of intentionality and this shows in some of their practical guidance—such as a family schedule that breaks an entire week into 15-minute increments and something called “toy-time tapes” which must be the most Type-A practice I’ve ever encountered in any parenting book. That said, one of the book’s strengths is that the Raquets are clear that though we all must follow the Bible’s clear commands, the rest of what they offer is just their own advice that readers are free to follow or to shrug off. “We … don’t want you to feel overly burdened by anything we wrote if you are blessed with a more relaxed personality. There are times we would have been blessed to have a few more relaxed, easygoing personalities in our home! We are thankful that God has made His local family, the church, with many different body parts, all with unique functions and gifts, according to His good plans for a balanced, functioning body!” Thus, if you don’t appreciate something like their “blue-tape boundaries,” you can mine the principles behind the practice, then find your own way to implement them.

If there is a weakness to the book, it may be the relatively cursory focus on the local church. Though the Raquets do write about children and the church, it is largely in the context of teaching them to sit still or to behave themselves. Even in the chapter about determining whether children are saved or unsaved—a chapter that is otherwise excellent—they neglect to mention the importance of involving pastors in making that determination. Yet children need pastors as much as their parents do and some focus on teaching children how to relate to pastors and when to turn to them for prayer, counsel, and help, would have gone a long way.

And then there is the matter of inculturation. Every book is written within a particular cultural context and is wrapped in certain presuppositions. In this case, the book seems to presuppose that families will be intact with both parents present, and that families will have access to a certain level of means and the privileges that tend to come with it. So, for example, the Raquets strongly express their view that it is very important for parents to protect their children from non-Christian worldviews in their early years, yet there are many people for whom this is very nearly impossible. Think, for example, of a single mom who needs to work to support her family, leaving public schools as her only educational choice, or of families who live in settings where homeschooling is forbidden and Christian schooling unavailable. Similarly, in the chapters dealing with physical discipline, there is no provision for settings where, though spanking may be permitted, the use of an instrument is not (which means parents need to make a careful, thoughtful decision about how they will carry out physical discipline), or settings where spanking is altogether outlawed (which means parents need to make a careful, thoughtful decision about if they will carry out physical discipline). These may be areas where the authors could have made even more of a distinction between principle and practice. All that said, these are relatively minor matters and certainly do not substantially detract from the book’s great strengths.

I have often thought that one of the keys to improving your parenting is to find someone who shares some of your parenting philosophies, preferences, and even eccentricities and to deliberately learn from them. And that’s exactly what Purposeful and Persistent Parenting offers. And though my days of parenting little ones are now long past, I still enjoyed this book very much and learned from it. It is rare among parenting books in this way: I would gladly hand to young parents and tell them, “If you generally follow this book and generally hold to these principles, practices, and preferences, you will do just fine.” But I might also tell them to just skip that bit about toy-time tapes…

Those who explore the vast boreal forests of Canada are rarely far from a bunchberry dogwood, a plant so common that some have suggested it ought to be Canada’s national plant. The cornus canadensis is a little shrub that often carpets the floors of the great fir and spruce forests. A perennial, its shoots rise in the spring and soon each produce a whorl of six leaves. Come the early days of summer, a number of tiny flowers surrounded by four white bracts top each shoot. It is not the size of the plants or even their beauty that catches the eye as much as their sheer volume and their way of bringing cheer to an otherwise drab forest floor.

What few know about the bunchberry dogwood is that it holds a world record, for its blooms open faster than any other plant in the world. In fact, it moves at a speed few organisms can match. When its flowers begin to form, so too do the stamen, and they grow cocked under the petals like tiny medieval trebuchets. When the bud is fully formed and the time is right, the pressure of the stamen pushing against the petals opens the flower with a burst of energy and a spray of pollen. This takes place in less than one half of one millisecond, too fast for the eye to see, too fast even for a camera to record unless it can shoot thousands of frames per second. From the maturing of the bud to the full opening of the flower is far less than the blink of an eye. It’s a miracle of nature.

A great question deep in the hearts of many Christian parents is why some children bloom quickly when they profess faith while others take much longer. Why is it that some seem to burst into life while others seem to drag? One child comes to Christ and backs her conversion with immediate habits of devotion—she reads the Scripture and meditates upon it, she prays regularly and fervently, she reads good books and delights to discuss what she has learned. This comes quickly, easily, and joyfully. Then another child comes to Christ, truly and genuinely, yet has far less interest in reading the Bible, less interest in prayer, little interest at all in reading good books and engaging in spiritual conversation. How could this be?

Just as there are mysteries in the natural world there are mysteries in the human heart, and the ways in which different Christians express their faith is among them. Some truly do appear to burst into life, immediately awakening to God’s sanctifying grace as they put sin to death and come alive to righteousness, as they quickly lay aside habits of spiritual laziness and put on habits of spiritual industriousness. And some truly do appear to crawl into life, to bloom over years or decades rather than moments. They do awaken to God’s sanctifying grace, but at a snail’s pace, and they do replace poor habits with good ones, but slowly rather than quickly, and often only after long, hard, back-and-forth battles.

Parents do well to be patient with their children, and not to be overly concerned with those who seem to be blooming slowly. After all, there are countless examples of people who burst into life—or into what appeared to be life—but who fell out of it just as quickly. The plants that are first to bloom are often first to wilt. Some children who were once the envy of parents everywhere are now the shame of their own. Meanwhile, some of their peers came to life slowly, but only because they were putting down deep roots within. Though there may have been little change on the outside, there was a great work going on inside. Slow growth is often more lasting than quick.

Parents also do well to faithfully foster whatever growth they do see. A plant that has just sprouted is at its most vulnerable state and must be carefully protected. The smallest beginning of life must be gently nurtured. God does not break a bruised reed and parents must not break a young faith. They do far better to rejoice in all progress, not just great progress, to commend every evidence of grace, not just the most prominent, to encourage all advances, not just the most extreme. They do well to pay attention to trajectories more than accomplishments, to find joy in where there are children headed as much as where they are.

And then parents must guard themselves against cajoling, nagging, or unfairly comparing. It is far better to nurture than to needle, to rejoice in new evidences of life than to lament old evidences of sin. It may well be that those who burst to life are specially gifted by the Holy Spirit or have been given an extraordinary measure of zeal. Either way, all growth certainly reflects divine activity and divine blessing, and whether fast or slow, God works in his own way and at his own pace. Slow growth reflects divine activity and blessing every bit as much as fast. Many want their children to bloom like a dogwood, but while that plant does bloom quickly, its flowers are tiny and relatively plain. Flowers that take longer to open are in the end often far more beautiful, far more wondrous to behold. Patience is a precious virtue for parents and gardeners alike.

Nature teaches us many lessons and the lesson of the blooming is one of them. God created some plants to open their flowers in an instant and others only over a much longer stretch of time. Both reflect his design. We cannot slow the plant that opens in an instant or rush the plant that opens in a month. But what we can do is enjoy the difference and celebrate the beauty. And so, too, with our children.

When historians look back on the twenty-first century Western world, surely few things will strike them as being more deranged and more sinister than its insistence that biology has no bearing on an individual’s gender. While society has long acknowledged the rare existence of gender dysphoria, a psychological condition marked by discomfort with one’s biological sex, it now celebrates full-fledged gender fluidity. Only our contemporary context could make sense of a phrase like “some men get periods” or a headline like “Man Gives Birth To Healthy Baby.” Only it would know what to do with words like “chestfeeding” and terms like “preferred pronouns.”

As transgenderism has become normalized and lauded, its demographics have shifted substantially. Once the near-exclusive domain of men, it is fast becoming dominated by young women. Abigail Shrier noticed this trend, was concerned by it, and decided to explore it. It resulted in her new book Irreversible Damage: The Transgender Craze Seducing Our Daughters (which, I should point out, is a general market book and not a Christian one). In the last decade, she says, “the Western world has seen a sudden surge of adolescents claiming to have gender dysphoria and self-identifying as ‘transgender.’ For the first time in medical history, natal girls are not only present among those so identifying—they constitute the majority.”

What could possibly have happened to bring about such a shift and to convince so many young women that they have been born into the wrong bodies? Shrier wanted to find out, so committed herself to research that included conducting nearly two hundred interviews and speaking to around 50 families of adolescent girls. Because gender dysphoria has been known to typically first present itself in early childhood, she relied most heavily on parents since they could best answer whether their daughters had always exhibited symptoms of dysphoria or whether it manifested itself only when they were tweens or teens.

The subtitle of her book hints at her findings. Transgenderism, she came to believe, is a kind of craze that is seducing young girls who are not clinically dysphoric. Adolescents are particularly uncomfortable with themselves and particularly prone to suggestions. In today’s context they are prone to the suggestion that their discomfort may stem from being a boy trapped in a girl’s body. This never would have occurred to girls in previous generations, but today’s media and classrooms dangle it as a possibility or even probability. Meanwhile the forces of intersectionality attach great social cachet to transgenderism so it can allow a girl to be catapulted from invisibility to prominence. The forces are strong.

Those who decide to make the leap find support in schools and universities, therapists and physicians. They find heroes, gurus, and instructors on YouTube. With or without the consent of their parents they can change their names and pronouns, obtain a “binder” to flatten their chests, take medications to delay puberty, begin testosterone to masculinize their development, have their breasts removed, or even take the final step and have their genitals reconstructed through phalloplasty. Even some of the most moderate of these measures can have long-lasting physical and fertility effects and be permanently disfiguring. Yet some girls begin such a course of treatment when they are still merely children.

Shrier begins by introducing some of the girls who have been swept up in this craze and telling their stories. She attempts to get to the bottom of the puzzling data showing that there has been a sudden and dramatic rise in girls claiming to have gender dysphoria and seeking treatment for it. She speaks with transgendered influencers who use social media to broadcast their experiences and encourage others to follow suit. She interviews the moms and dads who are unconvinced by their daughters’ self-diagnoses and the counselors and psychiatrists who are not. She spends time with some of the experts in the field who stand as dissidents and who have been pilloried or even “canceled” for it. She researches and describes the different hormonal courses and physical treatments that lead to the transformation of healthy female bodies into masculinized (but still female) ones that are often far less healthy. She writes about girls who regret the measures they took and the irreversible damage they inflicted upon themselves. She shows that most of today’s transitioning girls don’t truly want to be men as much as they don’t want to be women or to display feminine traits, as if there is something intrinsically bad or essentially weak about being a woman. It’s all very sad and very alarming.

Shrier writes as one who is sympathetic to people who have diagnosable gender dysphoria and for such people she affirms their decision to transition. But she is dismayed that ideologues have made transgenderism a valid and desirable option to those who are not truly diagnosable. She laments the way it has spread among young women as a kind of social contagion. She fears that many of them will go on to have regrets but be left with permanently damaged bodies. She makes the compelling case that a generation of girls is at risk, that their parents need to be aware of the pressures on them, and that society as a whole needs to act to protect those who are so very vulnerable. Irreversible Damage is a book that may prove particularly valuable to parents, pastors, and anyone charged with overseeing and caring for young women.

(Note: While the book is not explicit or profane, it does contain some bad words as well as discussions of sexuality.)

As a father, I try to make it a habit to pray for my children each day before they even crawl out of bed. Before they’ve begun their day, I want to have already asked the Lord to bless, keep, and prosper them. Praying for my children was on my mind as I read this sweet, poetic prayer by Amy Carmichael. She did not have biological children of her own, but was Amma (mommy) to hundreds who were delivered to Dohnavur Fellowship and raised there. Her prayer reflects the heart of a parent.

Father, hear us, we are praying,
Hear the words our hearts are saying,
We are praying for our children.

Keep them from the powers of evil,
From the secret, hidden peril,
From the whirlpool that would suck them,
From the treacherous quicksand pluck them.

From the worldling’s hollow gladness,
From the sting of faithless sadness,
Holy Father, save our children.

Through life’s troubled waters steer them,
Through life’s bitter battle cheer them,
Father, Father, be Thou near them.

Read the language of our longing,
Read the wordless pleadings thronging,
Holy Father, for our children.

And wherever they may bide,
Lead them home at eventide.

Social media was still in its infancy when it showed me a death for the first time. All these years later the details remain vivid in my mind. A colleague said, “Tim, check this out.” He turned his screen toward me to show a blindfolded man kneeling before his captors. They spoke a few words in a language I did not understand, then reached toward him. A knife flashed, a throat was slit, blood spilled. I almost threw up. Late that night, and for several nights to come, I lay awake thinking about it, the details seared into my memory. Even today if I close my eyes I see it and hear it.

I didn’t want to see that man die, I didn’t need to see that man die, but I did see that man die. And since that day I’ve seen many others die, almost always through social media. When terrorists strike, when there is an act of brutality, when there is another senseless killing, the omnipresent video cameras pick it up and the social media channels insert it onto my timeline. Sometimes I know the death is coming so if I don’t want to see a life snuffed out, I can quickly scroll past. Other times, though, it’s an autoplaying video and I see it before I can turn away. One moment I’m looking at pictures of nieces and nephews celebrating a birthday, and the next I’m looking at someone being gunned down in the streets. Joyful celebrations join brutal murders in this endless stream of information. Since I signed up for social media, I’ve seen so much death.

Parents raising children in this digital age have had to put a lot of thought into how to protect their kids from some of the pitfalls of online life—from exposure to pornography, for example, from bullying and predators, and even from wasting endless hours in mindless scrolling and tapping. But it has only been in recent months, as society grapples with a number of highly-publicized deaths, that they may have been forced to consider the connection between social media and death. For here in the twenty-first century, the two go hand-in-hand.

One family told of how their daughter had been scrolling through social media when she saw the footage of Ahmaud Arbery being shot down in the street. She was old enough to have her own accounts and followed only friends and family, so her parents thought she would see only content that was clean and screened and curated. Yet enough of the people she follows had watched and shared the video that the algorithm deemed it worthy of her attention. So, sitting in her room, using the phone her parents had given her, and logged in to the account they had helped her activate and lock down, she watched a man die for the first time. She came to her mom and dad shaken, and though they knew this death was particularly newsworthy and an important part of the context of contemporary events, they were saddened that she had seen it. They were not at all convinced that 13 was an appropriate age to witness such a brutal death—or to witness any death.

It is a rule of technology that every new technological innovation introduces benefits to humanity but also drawbacks. It is an associated rule that we are quick to identify the ways that our new technologies will improve our lives, but much slower to identify the ways they may harm us. We are now 30 years into the era of the internet, 20 years into the era of social media, and 13 years into the era of the iPhone, which so seamlessly stitched the two together and made them omnipresent in our lives. These are still early days, but already we have learned so much about the benefits and drawbacks that come with it all.

It is a benefit that these technologies can together make information immediately and widely available. It is right and good that they can be used to broadcast the news and even the footage of an unjust death like that of Ahmaud Arbery or George Floyd. But it is a drawback that they broadcast it to those who may be too young, too innocent, too naive to handle it, and to those whose parents would never permit it. It is a drawback that they so freely and widely broadcast so much death, even to those who for their own reasons do not wish to be witness to it, for not everyone needs to see every death, and not everyone wants to.

The fact is that to join social media is to become a witness to death. Some of these are especially significant or especially newsworthy and perhaps ought to be widely seen. Others, while still tragic, are not as significant and not as newsworthy and perhaps ought not to be so widely seen. But either way, as you scroll social media you will see sweet photos and silly memes, and then mixed in with them, shocking murders and brutal beatings. So, too, will your children when they get their own devices and their own accounts. They all flow together as we live out our algorithm-driven online lives.

I am sure parenting has always been a complicated business. I’m sure each generation of parents has had to deal with issues specific to their unique time and context. I rather suspect, though, that parents who raise children at the cusp of a technological transformation face a special kind of challenge. It falls to them to blaze a trail through unknown territory. And that is exactly what parents are doing today as we raise our children in this digital world.

I’m convinced the great majority of us feel like we are failing most of the time. We’ve got this deep gut feeling that our kids are spending way too much of their childhoods tapping on glowing glass rectangles. We feel a lot of guilt that our kids aren’t spending more time playing in the great outdoors or reading great books. We feel frustrated that mostly they don’t even want to.

This is easy enough to deal with when they are little and we have a lot of control over their time and activities. “Turn that thing off and go play outside!” But it gets a whole lot harder as they grow older and more independent and get devices of their own. They get to the age where we need to give them more freedom, but then they use that freedom to do little more than tap and play and surf. Most teens get home from school, head to their rooms, close their doors, and just disappear into YouTube and Instagram and a billion digital distractions.

From time to time our parental guilt overflows into action and we decide we’re going to make some changes. We come up with ideas and announce them to the family. “We are going to have a technology basket and when everyone gets home, we’ll put our devices in that basket so we can have a nice family evening together.” It works great the first time, so we immediately tell all our social media contacts about this life-changing discovery and share some pictures of the family having fun together. It only works okay the second time, so we skip the pictures. And, as is usually the case, there is no third time.

So then we talk to our kids about responsibility and spending a little less time on their devices; we make some lame dad jokes about their eyes turning square. But they don’t change much and we ourselves don’t change much. We still pull our phones out of our pockets a few hundred times a day and still can’t as much as wait in a line or go to the bathroom without bringing it along. Why would our kids be any different?

As parents in this digital world, it’s like we have planted ourselves and our families on a beach. Though the water is rising, we have convinced ourselves that we can somehow hold back the tide. But inevitably it just keeps creeping higher and higher up the beach until our best plans, like feeble little sandcastles, are swept away. There seems to be a kind of inevitability about it, that before long we’ll all always be staring at our devices. In fact, it seems like our devices have wills of their own, and this is exactly what they want. They want to dominate our lives. They want to be our main thing.

So what do we do? How do we live well in a world like this one? How do we have confidence that we aren’t blowing it for our kids in some of their most formative years? How can we be sure that our family memories won’t mostly be of us scattered around the same room, each staring at our own little screen? To be honest, I don’t really know. I lack confidence here myself.

Like most parents, Aileen and I have given devices to our kids. While we’ve given them earlier than we are comfortable with, it’s also been later than all of their peers. We haven’t really wanted our children to have these devices, but we also haven’t wanted to socially-paralyze them. Not only that, but their schools have begun to demand them. To be clear, we’ve done a lot of work on protecting the family from the negative things they may encounter online. As far as I know, the plan has accomplished its job of protecting them from the awful stuff that could otherwise pollute their childhoods. I think we’ve succeeded there (so far, at least). But I don’t think we’ve succeeded nearly as well at helping them manage their time—at helping them use their devices purposefully and with self-control. Then again, I don’t think we’ve succeeded all that well at doing that in our own lives. The water keeps creeping up the beach.

With all that said, here are a few principles I’ve been pondering and, in my own way, implementing within the family.

• Be the parent. God made you the parent, so you have both the calling and the authority to lead your children. And, as much as they might fight back, I firmly believe that children truly do want to be led. So lead. But lead kindly and gently, and understand that you can blow it with the technology basket idea only so many times before you begin to erode their confidence.
• Take comfort that you’re not alone. I haven’t spoken to many parents of older children who have a lot of confidence that they are succeeding well in this area. If your kids are six or under, I know you’ve got it all figured out, but come talk to me when they’re 15 or 17. What is relatively easy when they are young becomes far more difficult when they are older. So if you’re struggling, have an honest conversation with a family in a similar age range and I think you’ll hear that they are struggling just as much. That’s strangely comforting.
• Be an example. Most of us hesitate to properly manage our children’s use of their devices at least in part because we don’t care to manage our own. There’s nothing intrinsic to being a parent that gives you the right to watch endless amounts of YouTube while capping your kids at a half hour. Though we hate to admit it, much of our children’s behavior is learned behavior. If you want to know who they’ve learned it from, you should probably start with the person in the mirror.
• Distinguish between different forms of digital entertainment. Watching Netflix is not the same as playing Roblox or Minecraft—one is mindless while the others are creative. Playing Angry Birds is not the same as listening to Audible—one offers nothing more than entertainment while the other may increase knowledge and build the mind. The trick is that both happen on the same device (and sometimes at the same time). So the concern is often not that the device is being used, but how it’s being used.
• Don’t idealize your own childhood. We can reminisce about our childhoods like they were so much better than our children’s. We remember carefree summer days spent doing great and wonderful things. But it is far more likely that we were wasting just as much time, even if in different ways. I’m not sure my summers spent playing with flammables and accelerants was really a whole lot better than another person’s summers spent playing games online. I’m not sure my many hours of reading Archie comics was any better for me than if I had spent that time playing an iPhone game.
• Focus less on time and more on responsibilities. Kids of all ages have certain tasks they need to accomplish, and I think it’s wise to focus our attention on making sure they accomplish what they need to and that they accomplish it with some degree of excellence. Of more concern to me than how much time they spend playing games is that they are getting their homework done, earning good grades, and putting in solid effort at their jobs.
• Give them alternatives. If you take away your children’s devices, you’re now opening time that will need to be filled with something. You could tell them to go and spend time with friends, but chances are their friends are all staring at their phones. So be sure to provide your children with alternate activities—the kind of activities they may actually want to do. Maybe you can even find some activities you’ll enjoy doing together.

I doubt it has ever been easy to be a trailblazer. I expect the people who blazed the first trails across their new lands later realized their trails weren’t all that good. Once they had more knowledge of the lay of the land, they went back and laid better ones. In the same way, I expect the next generation of parents will know better than we do how to lead their kids in a world like this one. For now, I think the challenge before us is to learn what we can about life in this digital world, then to apply those lessons confidently to ourselves and our children. I get the sense we’re all just kind of doing the best we can as we all figure it out together.

I do not often run guest articles on this site. But every now and again I do make an exception—usually for my friend Paul Carter. In this case, he is going to suggest a great way to turn a retired Bible into a precious family heirloom. What follows is from Paul…

If you are a Bible reader, a note taker and a highlighter then you have probably asked the question at some point in your life: what do I do with my retired Bible?

I first encountered this dilemma back in 2010. I had a couple of Bibles that I was using simultaneously and they were both nearing the end of their term of service. I didn’t want to throw them out but I wasn’t sure what future use there might be for such things. Who wants to read another person’s Bible?

And then it occurred to me that perhaps my children might one day be very interested, and perhaps even helped by reading through my various thoughts, praises and observations. The two Bibles I had already filled were not the best candidates for the particular project that I now had in mind. For one thing, the margins were so narrow and therefore my writing so compacted that the notes contained within them would only ever be intelligible to the person who had written them. In addition, the notes were written particularly for me. Some of them are in Greek. A few are in Hebrew. All of them reflect my personal interests and pastoral concerns.

I wanted my next Bibles to be written and annotated specifically so that they could be usefully and strategically given away.

My goal was to fully prepare 1 Bible every 4-5 years over the course of 25 years. That would give me one heirloom Bible for each of my 5 children. I have now completed 1 and am part way through a second.

Long projects are a feature of my personality; I am currently over 300 chapters and two years into my 10 year goal of podcasting my way through all 1189 chapters of the Bible. (You can check it out here) I am firmly committed to the notion that almost nothing of value can be done in 6 months – but by the grace of God you can change the world over a decade or two. Reading the Bible has convinced me that slow and steady wins the race.

God is the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob.

He does his thing over multiple generations spanning hundreds of years at a time.

So this is not a microwave project – it is full on crock pot. It is something only to be undertaken by people who are deeply invested in their children, their grandchildren and beyond.

But if that sounds like you – then this is what I’ve learned so far about how to turn a retired Bible into a precious and strategic family heirloom.

1. ​Choose the right Bible

As mentioned above the first few Bibles that I retired were not in any way suitable for this project. I wrote notes that only I would be able to read – in part because of the limited margin space in the Bibles that I was using. Once I decided to embark on this project I knew that I would need to choose a more appropriate version of the Bible. For my first two attempts I have been using the ESV Journaling Bible produced by Crossway. This Bible features 2 inch ruled margins on either side. This allows me to easily record a variety of thoughts, reflections, notations and prayers associated with the featured text. This Bible also uses a thicker paper than most which makes it easier to highlight and also allows you to use medium weight ink which should last longer and is generally easier to use.

2. ​Read it with someone particular in mind

I created my first Bible in this project with my oldest daughter Madison in mind. To be clear, when I am doing my morning devotions, I am thinking primarily about Jesus, not Madison. But as I make my notes, I am trying to answer questions that I imagine she might have. Not having been to seminary I doubt very much whether she is wondering whether this particular Greek verb should be understood in the indicative or imperative sense. My earlier Bibles are filled with notes on the underlying Greek or Hebrew text – but Madison doesn’t care about those things. Her questions will likely run in a different direction.

I imagine this exercise has made me a better preacher. It is helpful to read a text and to attempt to discern where it will connect – or not connect – with another person. I have not found this to be an intrusion on my devotional experience. Rather I think that it is a helpful expansion of my approach to Bible reading. I want to know what is there. I want to rejoice in what I see. And I want to think about how I can share these truths usefully and winsomely with another person.

3. ​Fill it with notes, encouragements, prayers and personal reflections

Having moved to the ESV Journaling Bible format I now have space for a variety of annotations. Some of these annotations would be similar to what you might find in a standard Study Bible. “The destruction of Jerusalem here mentioned took place in 587 BC”. Most of them however are more personal. I might say something like: “The darker this world gets the more I long for the return of Jesus! Don’t put too much hope in leaders and influencers. Give them enough time and they will all show their feet of clay. Jesus really is the hope of the world!”

In the second Bible in my project, which I am preparing for my son, I have started adding longer reflections and prayers. Rather than filling a column with 8 short notes on a chapter of text I might write a 200 word reflection or a 200 word prayer inspired by the associated text.

From time to time I also leave personal notes – completely unrelated to the text. The note might say something like this: “Last night you graduated from High School. I am so incredibly proud of you. I am worried about the world you are stepping out into, but I believe in you and I believe in a God who loves you. I am cheering for you and I will always have your back. I think about you every morning and I am praying right now as I bring this sentence to a close.” A sentence like that may be a real encouragement to your child at a time when you can’t be physically present with them.

4.​ Pray over it every day

If you have children you probably don’t need a reminder to pray for your kids every day. Parenting and praying seem to go together. When I became a parent I discovered a whole new level of prayer and a whole new urgency and I imagine that you had a similar experience. However, while you know that and I know that, your child may not know that. Use the space in the margins to let them know. Tell them what you were praying and if possible relate that to the featured text. You might say something like this: “This morning I was reading about the fruit of the Spirit. I am praying today that you would be growing in the character that God desires. I pray for you to grow in love. I pray for you to grow in joy. I pray that you would have peace. I pray that you would develop patience – but I pray that you would develop it the easy way and not the hard way. I pray that you would grow in kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. I am praying that you would become the person God created and saved you to be. Cheering for you!”

Who knows how – or when – the Lord will use such a prayer?

Hide these prayers in the pages of your Bible and you will be preparing a lifetime of ministry to your children and grandchildren that may extend even beyond your death.

5.​ Add colour and creativity

After about 4 years of using the first journaling Bible in this project it was almost completely full. There were a few places left and rather than pack them full of written text as well I decided to engage the services of a Christian artist friend of mine in Montreal. My oldest daughter is an artist herself and so I wanted her Bible to reflect that. I wanted there to be colour, joy, reflection and creativity.

I sent the Bible to my friend along with a fairly detailed introduction to my daughter. I wanted her to know Madison, to the extent that it is possible to “know” anyone that you’ve never actually met. I wanted her to have enough information to create personal amplifications and illustrations.

I was extremely pleased with the results!

Here are a few of my favourite pages:

Here you can see that the best place to add artwork is at the end of a book or letter. There is usually a decent sized blank space that will allow for a fully developed expression.

The picture below shows the sort of smaller illustrations that are possible in the bottom portion of a journal column:

I had room for about 75 colour illustrations of various sizes in this Bible. My artist friend charged me a very reasonable fee for the amount of time and effort that it appears she put it into the process. If you would like to connect with her for any future work on your Bibles you can find her website here.

6. ​Present it on a special occasion

Milestones matter. The Bible is filled with special occasions and memorial markers. One thinks of the stone that Samuel erected in 1 Samuel 7 after an important victory over the Philistines: “Then Samuel took a stone and set it up between Mizpah and Shen and called its name Ebenezer; for he said, “Till now the LORD has helped us.”” (1 Samuel 7:12 ESV)

I decided to present my first completed Bible to my oldest daughter on the occasion of her graduation from college. There was a particular weekend during which we both attended her graduation and helped her move into her first apartment in Toronto. This felt like a momentous occasion and it seemed appropriate to mark it with a precious and personal gift.

My hope is that each time she sees this Bible or reads it she will remember that mom and dad have been there at every step and stage of her life. I hope she will be reminded that we are who we are because of the grace and kindness of the Lord to us. If this Bible brings to mind that connection it will have begun to do the work that I envisioned.

7.​ Begin the process all over again

As soon as the Bible I had filled for my oldest daughter went into the mail to my artist friend in Montreal I began working on the next Bible that I was intending to present to my son. I have been using the Robert Murray M’Cheyne Bible Reading Plan since 2012. It takes you through the entire Old Testament once and the New Testament and Psalms twice every calendar year. Using that plan means that I will usually fill up the Psalms and New Testament pages after 2 years – which of course means after 4 readings. The other pages tend to fill in more slowly and over a longer period of time.

Using a Bible Reading Plan will be absolutely essential in this process. It doesn’t have to be the RMM Plan, but if you aren’t using some kind of plan, you will likely never get out of the New Testament and Psalms and if you don’t do that then you will never be able to produce the sort of heirloom Bible that you would want to pass on to your children and grandchildren.

So pick a plan and use it.

Do it for yourself and do it for your loved ones.

Meditating and mentoring are supposed to go hand in hand:

“One generation shall commend your works to another, and shall declare your mighty acts. On the glorious splendor of your majesty, and on your wondrous works, I will meditate.” (Psalm 145:4–5 ESV)

And God alone be glorified!

Wishing you all the best in 2020 and beyond.

Pastor Paul Carter

For the most recent episodes of Pastor Paul’s Into The Word devotional podcast going verse by verse and chapter by chapter through whole books of the Bible visit the TGC Canada website. To access the entire library of available episodes see here. You can also find it on iTunes.

Children owe honor to their parents. Parents have the right to expect and demand honor and even to extend discipline to children who fail to give it, for God himself commands “Honor your father and your mother.” When children are young, this honor is shown especially in obedience—they are to submit to the authority of their parents, for in doing so they are submitting to God, the one from whom all authority flows. “Children, obey your parents in the Lord, for this is right” (Ephesians 6:1). This is God’s world and according to God’s ways, this kind of honor is due to parents.

When my children were young, I expected and even demanded their honor, especially as it took form in obedience. I would explain to them that it was not first me who was concerned for their honor, but God. If they were to honor God, they needed to honor both me and their mother. I would at times discipline them for failing to show honor, whether that failure took the form of outright disobedience, or a breath-huffing eye-rolling bad attitude, or a failure to “do it now, do it all the way, and do it with a happy heart.” This was discipline done out of concern for God’s Word and out of love for my children. It was not always easy and they did not always respond well, but I think over the years they began to get it and to do it. They still respond well in those (thankfully occasional) times when honor is lacking.

But I knew that I didn’t only want my children to honor me. Honor would be good, but it wouldn’t be good enough. As I gazed into the future, I pictured a time when my children would befriend me. I pictured them loving me as both their father and their friend (with me loving them as both my children and my friends). I pictured a time when they would regard me well, when they would be affectionate toward me, when they would love to spend time with me, when we would add to the family dynamic a friendship dynamic. And I was pretty sure these two desires—honor and friendship—could be complementary, not in opposition.

Speaking to older, wiser, and more experienced friends—friends who had successfully raised children to adulthood—I came to understand that honor and love are different in a key way: I could demand honor, but I could not demand love. At least, not the kind of love I wanted to share with them. I suppose I could demand that my children love me in that “love your neighbor as yourself” way—the basic love that every human being owes every other—but I wanted far more than that. I wanted the kind of love that a friend shows to a friend—a love that is deep and mutual and voluntary.

My friends helped me understand that to receive and expect that kind of love, I would need to prove myself worthy of it. I would need to earn their trust and esteem and admiration, just as with any other friends. I would need to extend to them the qualities of both a father and a companion. I would need to raise them in the discipline and instruction of the Lord, while also extending to them the patience, gentleness, and respect of a friend. I would need to relate to them as a father concerned to instill lessons in them and as a friend who was eager to learn from them. I would need to dedicate time to training and discipling them but also to just enjoying them. I would, essentially, need to woo and win my own children, to prove myself a worthy, valuable friend. That’s what I’ve been attempting to do for these past 19 years. God gave me three children, but he’s now also giving me three friends.

Along the way, I’ve learned that one of the great joys of parenting is growing from one kind of relationship to another with your children. It is becoming friends with them—coming to that realization that you would spend time with these people even if they weren’t your sons, even if they weren’t your daughters. Meanwhile, that joy is enhanced all the more as you find your children growing in love for you—coming to the realization that they don’t love you just because you’re mom or dad, but because you’ve won them as a friend, you’ve proven worthy of their trust, loyalty, and admiration.

Love is a many splendored thing, as the old song says, and that is certainly true of the love between parents and children. It is a thrill and a joy to be both a father and a friend, to relate to them as both children and trusted companions. It is a blessing to be loved not just because they have to, but because they want to.

Chap Bettis recently wrote about a phenomenon he has observed in today’s young parents—one Aileen and I have often discussed as well. “Many parents are reluctant and even resistant to asking advice about their parenting. While others can see blind spots, the parents themselves remain… blind to them.” That is one side of the equation—young parents aren’t asking seasoned parents for input or assistance.

The other side of the equation is that seasoned parents are reluctant to address concerns or offer assistance, even when they see those significant blind spots. This must not be a new phenomenon since many years ago J.C. Ryle said, “I would rather correct a man about anything than his parenting.” Older parents who have experience to draw upon and counsel to offer are loathe to speak up without invitation. And the invitations rarely come.

Bettis and a friend offer a number of possible explanations, especially as they pertain to parents failing to seek counsel in the area of corrective discipline. But I’ve got some conjecture of my own. I would like to offer an explanation related to the fact that today’s parents are the first generation to have grown up and then begun to raise their children in a fully digital world.

The Decline of the Expert

Today many people across many fields are lamenting the decline of the expert and the demise of expertise. It’s increasingly true that authority has little connection to accomplishment. Tom Nichols says rightly that we are seeing “a Google-fueled, Wikipedia-based, blog-sodden collapse of any division between professionals and laymen, students and teachers, knowers and wonderers—in other words, between those of any achievement in an area and those with none at all.” Today’s young parents have been raised to have a different view of expertise—a view that has been fostered by the egalitarian nature of the Internet. And it is inevitably working its way out in their parenting.

This connects to young parents in a couple of ways.

First, young parents are more likely to ask Google their questions than to ask people in their community. It’s easier and more normal for them to bang those questions into their phone or computer than to take them to church and to ask them there. And then when they find answers to their questions, it’s often in the context of online “communities” of other people who are going through similar issues. This gives them a connection to other people encountering the same ordeals and going through the same stage of life.

Second, young parents are more likely to seek and find answers from “peer experts” than from older “non-experts.” In today’s mindset, experts are not those who have successfully raised children to adulthood, but those who have successfully published blogs, books, and podcasts, even if they themselves have not yet successfully raised children to adulthood. Thus a young mom is more likely to seek the counsel of another young mom who has an online following than the counsel of an older mom who does not.

Here’s how this works out. A young mom who is struggling with potty training or a toddler’s temper tantrums is likely to take her questions online. When she does that, she is likely to find a blog or podcast begun by other young moms who are also dealing with potty training or toddler temper tantrums. The bloggers or podcasters have gained a following because of the questions they are asking, suggestions they are making, and vulnerability they are showing. This gives them a kind of authority that causes the young mom to trust and follow them. She joins into their form of social media community and they attempt to solve these problems together. And while this scenario may be particularly true of young moms, it’s also true of young dads struggling with fathering and of young couples struggling with marriage.

And while gladly acknowledging there is value in many of those blogs, books, and podcasts, I think there is a better way. I think every young family would do well to implement two habits.

Here is the first habit: find families who have successfully raised children to adulthood, then ask them to tell you how they did it. It’s simple. Just say, “We want our children to be like your children some day. Can we come over so you can tell us how we can have that?” The problem with “peer experts” is that while they have proven they can successfully gain a following as they talk about parenting, they haven’t proven any substantial success in actual parenting. It’s not that hard to raise a child to five or ten years old and to have that child appear happy and healthy and obedient. But we don’t really get a substantial assessment of our parenting until our children are well into their teens or twenties—until they’ve pretty much been launched into life. Many of the most successful parents have never launched a blog or podcast or otherwise spoken publicly about their parenting. Find those people, especially in your local church, and learn from them. It’s as simple as finding kids who you’d be proud to call your own, then inviting yourself into the lives of their parents.

Here’s the second habit: find families who have successfully raised children to adulthood, then invite them to tell you what they observe in your children and in your parenting. Invite them to observe you and invite them to speak freely of both your strengths and weaknesses. This will be a display of the trait of humility. An even bigger display of the trait of humility will be to listen patiently and without defensiveness when they point out a concern in your children or a flaw in the way you are raising them. But if they have raised children to become well-grounded and godly adults, why wouldn’t you want to seek, welcome, and consider their counsel? Why would you prefer the counsel of people whom you don’t really know and people who don’t have nearly the track-record of success?

There are few tasks you will undertake in life that are more important than raising children. It is an incredible honor that God allows us to create, birth, and raise other human beings made in his image. With this incredible honor comes great responsibility. You’re unlikely to fulfill this task well, or as well as you could have, without the input of the community God has given you. So take advantage of it! Learn to implement these basic habits of successful parents.

Have you ever wondered what it would be like to have a father who is evil, who is notorious for his terrible deeds? You, as the child, would feel the humiliation of it. There would be a residual shame where you, as that man’s child, would be embarrassed to be related to him. You’d be tainted by his legacy. You might even consider changing your name so people would stop asking, “You’re not related to that guy, are you?”

On the other hand, have you ever wondered what it would be like to have a father who is great, who is known for doing very good things? As his child, you would wear his name with pride. As a family member, you’d feel the thrill of being related to him. There would be a residual glory that would extend for many generations. You’d feel good when someone asked, “Oh, are you related to that guy?”

Both the shame and the pride are very natural and understandable. Wise old Solomon, who had quite the father himself, tells us that “the glory of children is their fathers” (Proverbs 17:6). As we read those words, we should picture children looking at their parents with pride because of their accomplishments. (Though it specifically mentions fathers, it’s certainly not stretching the proverb beyond its meaning to extend it to mothers as well.) Children are basking in the residual glory of their parents’ greatness. They are proud to be sons and daughters of these people.

It’s important to acknowledge that because these words come from the book of Proverbs, we can have confidence that we know what these parents have done and what they have achieved. We can also have confidence that we know what their children value. Here wise and godly children are looking at their wise and godly parents with joy, pride, and gratitude because of their wisdom, because of their godliness. They are honoring their parents for the wisdom they’ve shared and the righteous example they’ve displayed. They are saying, “Thank God for my wise and godly mom and dad!”

But the primary call here isn’t for children to honor their parents, though that’s certainly in view. It’s first a challenge for parents to be worthy of honor, for parents to be the glory of their children. It’s a challenge to parents to live a life that is worthy of that kind of praise and recognition from their children.

Of course, we are soli deo gloria Christians. We live ultimately for the glory of God alone. But that does not mean it’s wrong to desire the affirmation or the commendation of other human beings, and especially those who know us best, who see us as we really are. It only becomes sinful if we want their praise for things that are sinful or meaningless, or if we want their praise so much that we will do anything to get it. It only becomes evil when it becomes an idol that controls us. Otherwise, it’s perfectly good and motivating when we want it for the best of reasons. While our ultimate desire is to hear God say, “Well done, good and faithful servant,” we all also want to hear our children say, “Well done, good and faithful dad” or “Well done, good and faithful mom.”

This little proverb puts the call on us to live the kind of lives that make our godly children proud to be associated with us. It puts the call on us to live such lives of wisdom and righteousness that our children are proud to be related to us, proud to wear our names. Our accomplishments in godly living will make them proud, and they’ll give thanks and praise to God.

Whether you’re a teen or you’re far older, take it from me that it means a lot when you praise your parents. It blesses them when you commend them for what they’ve done well and when you forgive them for what they’ve done poorly. No matter your age, your Christian parents want to hear how they’ve exemplified distinctly Christian character and helped you live a godly life. That’s the kind of thing you’ll probably tell everyone else at your parents’ funeral, but maybe it would be nice to tell them now while they can still hear it!

And if you are a parent, commit to living with godly character so you make it easy for them. Live out the wisdom of Proverbs. Live out the calling and character of a Christian. Live a life that reflects the Bible and is worthy of imitation. In that way you’ll be the glory of your children, they’ll be able to speak your name with joy and pride and gratitude. Ultimately, they’ll praise God for your godly life and legacy.

It’s probably a reflection of my age and stage of life that I find myself thinking more and more about grandparents and grandparenting. In as much as I can read the future, I’m not particularly close to being one myself, but I’m the kind of person who likes to be prepared—to think about future realities so I can be ready if and when they come. I’m especially interested in knowing how to be a distinctly Christian grandparent. And so, as Aileen and I get into the stage of life where we are probably closer in time to holding grandbabies than our own babies, I find myself looking to the Bible to see what it says about being a grandparent. (Also, I was recently asked to deliver a series of messages on the Christian family and didn’t want to overlook a key component of a strong family!)

Frankly, I haven’t found that it provides much explicit guidance on the matter. The passages on parenting are given to parents, not grandparents. It falls primarily to mom and dad, not grandma and grandpa, to raise the children in the discipline and instruction of the Lord. Grandparents need to be willing to allow parents to be parents, and to be careful not to overrule or criticize their children as they carry out the task of parenting. I understand that grandparents ought to be very willing to take on a secondary and supporting role.

But what does that supporting role look like? Based on what I have found in the Bible, based on what I’ve observed in the lives of Christians, and based on a number of grandparents I’ve spoken to, I believe it’s one of influence—of spiritual influence. Let me offer two ways I believe grandparents can take on a role of spiritual influence in the lives of their grandchildren.

Influence Through Prayer

The first kind of spiritual influence comes through prayer. As elderly folk let go of other responsibilities in life and perhaps lose the ability to be as active as they once were, they gain the opportunity to pray more. Not only that, but they’ve had many years to grow in their knowledge of God and their relationship with him, so we trust they are praying better than ever before, that they are more intimate with God than ever before, that they are in a closer friendship with God than ever before. They ought to know the power of prayer and to believe in its necessity.

Statistically, seniors are the heaviest consumers of television across all demographics. Yet, ironically, they are also the demographic that derives the least satisfaction from watching television. I suppose this shows that much of society has not carved out a distinct role for seniors. And I suppose it also shows that if grandparents are prayerless, it’s not due to lack of time or opportunity. Here’s a question Christian grandparents would do well to ask themselves: Would you rather your grandchildren remember you as the one who watched TV or the one who prayed? Will you commit yourself to watching TV and be increasingly unsatisfied by it, or will you commit yourself to prayer and know that you are laboring on behalf of those you love? I beg you: Please pray! Please intercede before God on their behalf. Perhaps you can simply commit that you will pray for each of your grandchildren each day. And perhaps you can let them know that you have made that commitment—that grandma or grandpa is on their knees on their behalf each and every day. This will be a tremendous blessing to them, and it will lend meaning and significance to years that can otherwise be so easily wasted through endless entertainment.

Influence Through Relationship

If the first kind of spiritual influence comes through prayer, the other comes through relationship. As grandparents relate to their grandchildren, there is a special and unique kind of love that they and they alone can offer. Grandparent-love is a different kind of love from parent-love, but it may be no less important or significant. Parent-love is deep and powerful, but it’s the kind of love that comes with expectation—it is right and good for parents to have high expectations for their children. They have to push their children to reach their potential. They have to instruct their children and to discipline them, to praise them and to correct them.

But grandparent-love does not have to have that same kind of expectation. In fact, it’s often neither right nor good for grandparents to be involved in discipline, correction, rebuke, or expressions of disappointment. That’s for the parents. And that’s good, because it means grandparents can love without expectation. This kind of love would ruin a child if it was the only love they received, but when parents love their children with that unique parent-love, it frees the grandparents to love with that unique grandparent-love. The two loves are not contradictory but complementary.

Don’t you think it’s likely that God has designed children to function best when they are loved as children and they’re loved as grandchildren? As a grandparent, you can love your grandchildren freely and unconditionally and without expectation. You can pray for them and you can speak with them to teach them about your Savior. You can model godly living and godly dying.

Proverbs 17:6 says “Grandchildren are the crown of the aged,” and surely grandchildren are the greatest and brightest crown when they are following your God and walking in his ways. So why don’t you pray them on their way? And why don’t you teach them about the God of their fathers and the God of their grandfathers? Don’t just be a grandparent—be a distinctly Christian grandparent.