Over the holiday break, the interim Head of School at the school all three of our girls attend unexpectedly fell ill and passed away. He was 63 years old. I had only engaged with him a few times at campus events and corresponded a couple of times with him by email. By no means did I know him well. But I was moved to tears just reading the tributes that poured in for him, particularly those from the parents of students he had invested in during his teaching years. This man made a mark. And it’s the kind of mark you want to be known for leaving behind. People who knew him well said:
“He loved Jesus, and he loved people.”
“He made a difference in my daughter’s life.”
“My son’s life was enriched because of his influence.”
Our oldest daughter will turn thirteen this winter. That may sound inconsequential, but as I look down the pike and imagine parenting three daughters through their teenage years I feel a sense of panic. Simply put, I know I don’t have what it takes to do it well.
From the outside looking in, or judging by social media posts and Christmas card pictures, our girly family may appear sweet. The truth is, we’re a whole lot saltier than we are sweet. And I lead the charge when it comes to saltiness. People who know me casually may assume I am gentle and quiet, meek and mild. In public, this proves true. But my family can attest that at home I am an impatient person with high expectations, a loudly critical voice, and a hot temper. Only by God’s grace (and because they like clean laundry) do they keep me around.
I know we need outside help to do a good job parenting. A few years ago I heard a pastor share about an idea he had been introduced to at a youth ministry conference. In the ’80’s, a common goal in youth ministry was to establish a 1:5 ratio where there would be one youth leader for every five kids. But in more recent years research has shown that the goal should be flip-flopped to 5:1, meaning every one kid needs five adults investing in their lives.
The Fuller Youth Institute where much of this research is done says this about the importance of intergenerational relationships: “Despite the age segregation that exists in our churches and broader culture, each young person is greatly benefited when surrounded by a team of five adults. We call this the new 5:1 ratio.”
I wholeheartedly believe in this 5-to-1 mentoring, most especially for tweens and teens. But in 2020, it doesn’t happen on its own. Sometimes we’re too busy to be intentional. We’ve long known it takes a village to raise a child, but what happens when we all move to the suburbs and don’t have a tribe? When we spend more time on technology than with neighbors and friends? What does intergenerational look like when we’re in small groups with people our same age and live miles away from aunts, uncles, and grandparents?
Our middle daughter has been taking piano lessons for the past five years. For thirty minutes every week, she sits under the instruction and influence of a teacher who knows her well. Many times our afternoons are chaotic and frustrations peak, but I know when I drop my 5th Grader off at piano she is entering a safe, calm, and encouraging place. Mrs. Beth challenges her, talks with her about a myriad of topics, and sometimes even has her over to learn how to make homemade pasta and bread.
Most unfortunately for us, Mrs. Beth and her husband are entering a new phase of retirement and are moving out of state later this winter. I’m happy for them, BUT… I need Mrs. Beth going into middle school and high school. I need her to keep balancing our chaos with her calmness. I need her to keep whispering encouragements that counter my criticism. I was banking on her being on my middle child’s “team of five.”
Of course we can find a new piano teacher. But it’s much harder to find a new investor. And for that reason, I grieve our impending loss. It’s not about the piano; it’s about the person.
As we head into this new year in a school mourning the loss of its leader, I’m strangely encouraged. Something about his legacy of influence makes me determined to try all the harder to find mentors like him and our beloved piano teacher for each of our kids. There’s too much at stake to leave their formation to chance. And I know better than to think we can do it on our own.
Generation after generation stands in awe of your work;
each one tell stories of your mighty acts.
Psalm 145:4
Wow! Your words are so true! I remember when my first Great Grandchld was born, I rocked him all day in a comfortable rocker. I don’t know what that meant to him, but it was very comforting to me, and allowed me the tme to pray a lot for his present and his future!
I would never want to be a negative influence for my famly, and cherish every opportunity to tell them that I love them, and that I am cheering them on in whatever activities they choose!