Fear-driven Parenting

I said in my last post that I was going to continue blogging about a couple of conversations I'd had with my dad while my mom was in the hospital.  This is my second blog on something I've been reflecting on: fear-driven parenting.

Fear is a very real force.  It can be used for good or evil.  Fear is the thing that makes us cautious walking down a street alone at night.  Fear can make us cautious in many situations, which is wise.  But fear also has the power to make us emotional nut cases who are afraid to do or touch anything new or anything that we don't know what the out come will be.  Part of life is risk.  But fear keeps us from taking the very risks that can end up changing us for the better.

While I'm not much for the hype that comes with the death of celebrity, I saw a quote from Mary Tyler Moore, who passed this week, saying something about this topic.  She said, "Take chances.  Make mistakes.  That's how you grow.  Pain nourishes courage. You have to fail in order to practice being brave."

When it comes to my kids, like many of you, I look at the world and feel overwhelmed.  I have 3 girls, and girls are MEAN sometimes.  I look at the political, social and educational climate and I have way more questions than answers.  I remember being little and wanting to grow up, I believed grown ups had a lot of answers.  Now that I'm here myself, I'm acutely aware of how little I know.  How much you hope you're doing the best thing for your kids and family, but the truth is, we don't know what's going to happen or how things will turn out in the end.  Even decisions you are CONFIDENT in as a parent at the time, you may look back and regret.

I find myself often looking at my kids and wanting to protect them.  Protect them from mean people.  Protect them from negative messages about their bodies, their beliefs or their lives.  I want to keep them in my safe little bubble and just try to love them the best I can.  But that fear, if allowed to drive my parenting in the short- or long-term, will cause so much damage as well.  Not allowing them the freedom to fall, fail, or face adversity will cause them to be immature and cowardly perpetually.  I can't save them from themselves or from the world around them.  I have to allow them to practice bravery. 

Sometimes, as I've learned as an adult, I am my own worst enemy at times.  I think sometimes, "What if my girls had the thought about themselves that I just had about myself?" or "What if they make the same mistakes or even bigger mistakes than I made?"  All parents understand these types of ongoing questions.

But my parents let me be brave many times, even when it scared them to death.  I told my dad, I remembered him dropping me off for a trip to Morocco...when I was just 18...and it was only 2 years after 9/11.  I told him, he must have been filled with fear when I initially said that I wanted to attend this trip.  I'm amazed he let me go, to be honest, as a parent now.  America and the Middle East in general had very serious tension.  But mom and dad didn't tell me no, because I'd really felt a tug by the Lord that I was supposed to go.  I raised the funds, and dad dropped me off, not knowing what might happen to me.  That parental fear could have guided that decision.  But the truth is, that trip changed the trajectory of my life.  The reason is, though I don't recall a lot of the specifics of that trip, I came to the courageous decision to break up with my high school boyfriend of 2 1/2 years because of convictions received when I was on my own in the desert (literally).  Yes, I had a team with me, but for my life purposes, I was on my own.  I was able to listen.  The Lord got my heart.  It changed my life for the long haul.  If my parents hadn't have let me go, I'm not sure if I would've continued in the relationship or not, but I can tell you that their decision to set their fear to the side for His glory and my good was absolutely the right thing to do.

This is just one of several examples I have (maybe one of the most extreme, arguably), but this example that they set here in this circumstance makes me seriously step back and reflect on my own life and my own fears.  I have to be practicing throughout their life, that I have to let go and let them explore life.  I have to let them fall.  I have to coach them (often from my own experience) how to navigate broken hearts, shady friends, loving people too much to the point of blindness, etc. 

Here's the truth: If I had not had the struggles I did, if I didn't experience crushing defeats and bad choices, I wouldn't have learned how to get up after falling down.  I can't wish away trials from my kids, or let my fear dictate their young existence, because if I do...they stay immature forever.  I can't have 30 year olds who can only reason like 10 year olds because I kept them in a bubble and didn't let them do hard things.  As scared as I get sometimes, the truth is, if they don't face their own failings or the failings of others head-on, then they will become stagnant, immature and complacent/whiny adults.  There is absolutely a place for discipline (that's another topic), but I am addressing my own fear here. 

I'm afraid of what other parents think of me.  I'm afraid of watching my little girl cry as her friend tells her they're not friends, or someone has stolen the boy she likes.  I'm afraid of how men will look at my girls.  I'm afraid that, because they're so lovely, that they will tempted to only be as valuable as their bodies look.  I'm afraid of the kids who may say they're stupid, or worthless, or whatever terrible things kids say that are filled with untruth.  I'm afraid they may not be able to handle money well.  I'm afraid that they may struggle in school.  This is just the beginning of my fears list...

But the truth is, if I let that apprehension drive my parenting, I will fail these kids on a wholly different level.  I will go through the stages of parenting.  At some point I will move from the parent-on-the-pedestal, manners-teaching, disciplinarian stage, to the coach and confidante stage (yes, I'm sure there are a billion stages, but these are the two biggies, I think).  My role in their lives will change.

But they need me to be courageous enough to let THEM be brave.  To try, fall and get up again.  To move on from broken relationships, to study differently or harder for the next test in school, to fail a driver's written test 5 times (like I did, lol), to realize popular things don't always mean it's what's right, or whatever the trial.  I need to love them well.  To love beyond their actions and bad choices and to love the Imago Dei (image of God) in them.  For some reason, God has chosen these girls for me and me for them.  I will inevitably fail them.  But part of learning to get up from failure is leading by example.  I have to ask them for forgiveness, as 4 year olds or 40 year olds, for things that I've said or done that have hurt them.  I've been called to shepherd their hearts in my imperfect way, guided by the Spirit.  This means I leave room for the Spirit's guidance through tough times AND when I screw up, that I'm willing to admit it, because...no matter the age of my child...that Imago Dei remains.  A wounded spirit in my toddler or teenager, is worth the conversation and confession, if necessary.  I want to teach them relational reconciliation as well as overall resilience from tough things.  This isn't easy.  But it is necessary.

My final reflection is this:  Some of the wisest people I know, have been through the TOUGHEST situations...sometimes that are so explicit in nature, that it's almost unbearable to listen to in my empathetic heart.  But they had soft Spirits, that in the middle of doubt and pain, they were resilient.  They were TEACHABLE.  God worked through their stubbornness or pain or lamenting to bring them to a place of growth that wouldn't have been accomplished through only happy times and healthy relationships.  I have to trust that the trials that God has coming down the pike for me or my kids are the ones that will draw us back to him, give us a chance to lean into him, and learn more about who He is and who we are in Him.  It's not easy.  I don't have answers, but I believe the Lord is really working on me to look at this particular side of my parenting.  Honestly, I'm really grateful.