Redefining Successful Parenting: When Faith Is the Goal

Photo by Victor Furtuna on Unsplash

We stand at the top of the bluff, gazing 500 feet down at the Mississippi. Her waters flow with a steady, mesmerizing pulse. The same molecules that passed under the liftbridge in Stillwater, MN, are now cascading over rocks and maneuvering around sandbars 150 miles south. Hubby’s fingers intertwined with mine as the wind whisks the sweat from my forehead. It’s our first getaway as empty-nesters.

Wanna climb out on that rock?  Hubby grins slyly.

No, but I imagine who would be on that rock if we had brought the kids here years ago!

My heart races as images of past-parenting days flash through my memory. Everyone else’s kids are playing on the swings and slides at the park; my kid is climbing the post of the shelter and walking on the roof. Everyone else’s kids are walking the trails at Interstate Park; my kid is climbing beyond the barriers to dangle from the precipice of the furthest rock. All the other kids are safely skiing down the hills at Trollhaugen; my kid is skiing head-first into a tree and undergoing emergency brain surgery. 

Well, we successfully kept them alive while they were under our roof. That’s success, isn’t it?

I stop and ponder Hubby’s comment. Is that success? 

What defines successful parenting? 

Is keeping your kids alive for 18 years the definition of success?

I shake my head, annoyed at the premise. No, keeping my kids alive is not the goal of parenting.  If life here on earth were the end-all, then we could claim partial success, but the race I am running doesn’t end with the physical death of my body. True life begins when I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith, and there is laid up for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous judge, will award to me on that day. (2 Timothy 4:7-8)

I squeeze my eyes tightly shut in an attempt to prevent the tears. Successful parenting would be watching my children walking in the truth, living righteously, following Jesus.

I think I failed.

On that January day fourteen years ago, I bundled up my boy with a hedge of protection around his skull. We put helmets on our kids ‘just in case', hoping the need would never arise.  But when the tree aligned with my son’s journey down the slopes, the helmet’s casing cracked to bits, and the foam interior was obliterated. My son’s skull was fractured, and an artery burst open under his skull, requiring surgery to remove a portion of his skull, cauterize the artery, and sew him back together with 113 stitches.  

The horse was prepared for the day of battle, but victory belongs to the Lord. (Proverbs 21:31)

My kiddos are going through intense battles in their young-adult lives right now. I watch helplessly as they struggle. What did I miss in teaching them? Where did I go wrong? Why isn’t everything perfect?  If I had been a better mom, then things would have gone well with my kiddos, right?

Yet each of my children has a will of his own. My job as a mom was to train them up in the way they should go. They each have God’s word hidden in their heart so they might not sin against Him. God’s word does not return void. They each need to work out their own salvation with fear and trembling.

So the years of training my children were like putting the helmet on my son on that January day. He was prepared to battle the tree, but the helmet did not prevent the accident from happening. The helmet gave him added protection and strength for the battle he endured. 

Without the helmet, he surely would have died. 

Our job as parents is to prepare our children. Are they equipped with the full armor of God, prepared to take their stand against the devil’s schemes? Do they have the belt of truth buckled around their waist, with the breastplate of righteousness in place? Are their feet fitted with the readiness that comes from the gospel of peace? Have they taken up the shield of faith, with which they can extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one? And are they wearing the helmet of salvation and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God? 

If so, they are ready for the battles of life, which will inevitably come to us all.

My wise baby brother said to me: Their story isn’t over. The last chapter has not been written. You still have hope. God is still working in the lives of your children. 

And it’s true. The headwaters from Lake Itasca eventually made it to Stillwater.  As we stand on the bluffs of Wisconsin looking across the Mississippi at Iowa, the waters flowing are not yet at their final destination. They will journey over many locks and dams, waterfalls and stagnant waters, algae and animals, boats and barges. Eventually, they will complete their journey to the ocean. 

So too will my children. May my prayers be the wind to fuel their sails.

First published in Pursuing Perfection on Substack by @Tessa Lind, tessalind.substack.com