What My Kids Teach Me — Broken & Hopeful

I learn from my kids almost every day. I’m not saying they are perfect, or never do anything that requires correction. But they also teach me. I don’t say this in arrogance, but I don’t think I expected to learn this much from my kids. I figured I’d be doing all the teaching, I suppose.

I watch them show up in bravery in ways I never would have imagined as a kid their ages. They face pain, discomfort, embarrassment and fear each day in their sports. My daughter stood on a pitcher’s mound yesterday and pitched two innings of the first game of the softball season, knowing it was going to be harder with this year’s rules and a tough first opponent. All eyes on her, she breathed through her fear and struck them out twice. It wasn’t perfect. It was better than perfect—it was brave.

My son walked onto a basketball court a couple of weeks ago and faced a three-person team of kids who were all at least a foot taller than him, and looked like grown men. He didn’t back down, but worked with his teammates to figure a way around the giants by shooting baskets from the outside and passing frequently. He didn’t quit or run away, and handled the loss like a champ. His perseverance showed in the next game where he came away scoring all but two of the points in the game. Even against incredible odds, he was all-in, continuing to forge ahead and figure out what to do next.

Both of them have faced being in different schools this year, and the loneliness that has brought on some days. Don’t get me wrong, they don’t always get along, but they at least knew they had a buddy somewhere in the school when they were at the same elementary school and would encourage each other in the hallways when they walked by. This year, my son took on middle school, which isn’t a scenario I would like to repeat in my own life. Walking into middle school feels like a totally different world than the elementary school, and he had to learn where all his classes were, how to keep up grades on his own and how to maneuver through the social weirdness that is that age. He has developed friendships, stayed away from the drama and didn’t allow the rejections that happened to deter him from continuing to engage with people.

My daughter has fought through the feelings of being left out, of trying to figure out changing friendships, of being accused of hurting people in ways she never intended. There have been tears, and days she wanted to give up and not go back the next day. But she did. She had a good cry about it, had some sleep overnight and then got up ready to face the day again. Instead of allowing the rejections to cause her to shut down, she pursued some of the kids who were being rejected as well, and has made them friends.

I tear up thinking of the courage, the perseverance, the strength and the love they have shown this year. I am reminded often throughout the day that if they can face the giants in their own lives, through Christ I can as well. Some days I need to have a good cry, get some sleep and get up again the next day to be ready for that, but that’s ok! Jesus is the same yesterday, today and forever, and He is with me for whatever comes.

For me, adulting sometimes feels like being a kid again—I have no idea how to do it, am probably failing miserably and can get really discouraged with the overwhelm of certain situations. But as I invite Jesus into whatever problem I face, I have enough for the day without generating enough strength in myself for it. Just like David in facing Goliath, I can look away from the giants in my life at my God and know He is big enough for it. The way to be strong and courageous is to acknowledge the magnitude of our God, seeing the reality of who we carry with us wherever we go.

I repeat, be strong and brave! Do not yield to fear nor be discouraged, for I am Yahweh your God, and I will be with you wherever you go! Joshua 1:9