Our oldest turned sixteen this past weekend. In the blink of an eye we’ve traded nap times and princess dresses for practice drives and formal dresses. Now days I find lip gloss and hair ties instead of crayons and cheerios in the crevices of my car.
We’re settling into the middle years of parenting our three girls, and my mind and heart are still adjusting to the changes.
I enjoy watching my kids grow into people who like espresso drinks and conversation. We can do more things and go more places without the limitations of strollers and highchairs. Still there are times, though, when I miss the nature walks, play-doh creations, science “spearmints,” and childhood wonder that I was drowning in a few short years ago.
What pains me is not a nostalgia for those exhausting toddler years or a dread around the turbulent teen years. I truly like teenagers. But I’m bothered by the warp speed of time, the loss of control, and the nagging uncertainty about what I’m doing to help them grow into who they are created to be.
I was more confident parenting young children because it felt almost formulaic. Feed them, bathe them, read to the them, rock them, get them to bed. I could micro-manage our days and everyone went along with it.
Parenting older children is more complicated and unsettling. They need instruction and support in different ways, and they know how to argue. The questions are harder and the stakes are higher. Emotions and eye rolls abound. I don’t know what sort of moods or challenges each new day will bring.
The issues range from homework to heartache… Monitoring them as they navigate technology and social media. Guiding them through changing friendships. Releasing them to new freedoms. Teaching them to drive. Begging them to choose modesty in a culture that has abandoned it. Watching them lose or be left out. Learning when to step in or stand back. Apologizing for messing up.
There are moments when I think we are doing alright and I feel some wind in my parenting sails. There are other days when I want to crawl under the covers and stay there until everyone has graduated.
What is one to do in these middle years other than hope and pray?
One answer came a few weeks ago when I read a devotion about the importance of investing in the teenagers and young people around us. JD Walt writes:
“Our children are growing up more and more influenced by the social media culture and less and less influenced by the deep wisdom of mature adults surrounding them. They are becoming ensnared in the “influencer” culture which aspires to make them into its image. In other words, the core value of the emerging adults of our time is to become “well-known” (i.e., famous). The core value of Jesus and his kingdom is for our children to be “known-well.”
These words immediately resonated with me because I think he is onto something incredibly important.
I’m not interested in my daughters being shaped by attractive, charismatic influencers or becoming popular on Instagram, Snapchat, or TikTok. But I do want them to be seen and known well by real people who are interested in them and willing to invest in their lives.
Walt says, “Kingdom parenting is non-biological parents building relationships with young people for the purpose of helping raise them up into their real life; walking with them through the long, liminal phase of being birthed into God’s purposes for their life.”
In a world where anxiety, depression, and loneliness are at epidemic highs, particularly among teenage girls, I think this type of kingdom-parenting could make a difference.
The middle years are fertile years for our kids to be influenced by adults who notice them, get to know them, love them, challenge them, and encourage them to stay the course. Sometimes other adults have a better view of our child’s potential and can speak truth and hope into their lives in ways those of us who live with them cannot—and in ways our child is more apt to hear and believe. These adults can be teachers, coaches, counselors, bosses, aunts/uncles, grandparents, neighbors, a friend’s parent, etc. These adults can be you and me.
I had these sorts of relationships in my own life when I was growing up, mentors and relentlessly encouraging cheerleaders who took a genuine interest in the young people around them. Now I need these brave individuals in the lives of my kids, and I need to be one in the lives of my friends’ kids.
“Making a difference in the life of a child is a parent’s greatest legacy. And while investing in our own kids is a given, investing in someone else’s child is a gift—a gift that keeps the village alive and profoundly impacts the future.” Kari Kampakis
While the call is simple, it takes a radical and intentional commitment to prioritize pouring a part of ourselves into someone else’s child. It begs our awareness, selflessness, time, and energy. But I imagine the rewards could be significant for everyone involved.
Two weeks ago we were tired and my youngest one skipped out on her Wednesday night choir practice. A few days later she received a hand-written postcard in the mail from one of her favorite leaders telling her how much she was missed. It made her day to read it.
That .48 cent postcard is more than an act of kindness. It’s an act of connection. It’s an investment.
We know these things to be true: Parenting is hard. Our kids are growing up in particularly challenging times and are suffering for it. Disconnection and isolation are rampant. And we also know this:
Cross-generational relationships enrich our lives. We were made for them. They have the power to change us, sustain us, and move us toward our God-given purposes.
So I’m going to hope and pray for many things through these middle years with the girls, not the least of which is for these types of life-giving relationships. Because when they are in place, the middle years might be less overwhelming, less lonely, more meaningful years for us and the kids navigating them. And the world inside and outside our homes might be exponentially better for it.
This was a delightful and wise post. Thank you for the encouragement!