1054. Walls of Support
4. Walls of Support
Withing That Repairs and Reorients Your Relationship
“But I don’t want to ride with you. I want to keep riding with my cousins.”
Having arrived at the beach for an extended family vacation with a case of bronchitis, it was day three and I (Kara) was finally feeling better. The first 48 hours of our vacation, Dave and I had asked our kids to ride with their aunts and uncles since I was still contagious. But now I was germ-free and wanted our three kids to hop in our rental car for an hour-long drive to a new beach. After two days of keeping a cool distance from my kids so they wouldn’t catch my cough and sore throat, I wanted to warm up again. It was time for the vintage car games of “Twenty Questions” and “I Spy” along with a few favorite word game apps I keep handy on my phone.
Nathan and Jessica grabbed their towels, hats, and water bottles and buckled themselves into our back seat. Krista tossed her beach backpack over her shoulder but stood six feet away from our car. With her arms crossed and her hazel eyes cool with determination, our 14-year-old bluntly told us that she liked riding with her cousins better.
My feelings would have been hurt even if we had been home. But losing valuable withing time during one of our few precious (and expensive!) vacation days was a slap in the face to my pride and my hopes for family warmth.
I had a 3-D picture in my mind of what our vacation was supposed to be like. Krista’s assertion of her independence—a normal and appropriate tendency for an eighth grader—was ripping that image into shreds.
We let Krista ride with her cousins that day. In between the car games we played without her, I asked God to give me wisdom to know how best to respond to Krista when we arrived. As we were still en route, God brought to my mind an image that has been a favorite anchor of my Growing With parenting philosophy.
When you and I try to stoke the fires of warmth we discussed in the previous chapter, we will inevitably experience conflict with our self-reliant learners, explorers, and focusers. In those strained moments, we are wise to heed psychologist Lisa Damour’s counsel for parents of girls—advice that Steve and I believe is relevant for parents and stepparents of sons and daughters alike:
Your daughter needs a wall to swim to, and she needs you to be a wall that can withstand her comings and goings. Some parents feel too hurt by their swimmers, take too personally their daughter’s rejections, and choose to make themselves unavailable to avoid going through it again. . . . But being unavailable comes at a cost. . . . Their daughters are left without a wall to swim to and must navigate choppy—and sometimes dangerous—waters all on their own.
Like all relationships, those with our maturing kids ebb and flow emotionally. As I found at the beach with Krista, sometimes when our independence-seeking child moves away from us, they don’t just let go and drift; they kick off the wall. And they kick hard. So hard that it hurts, leaving us feeling cracked, dented, and leaky. We love our teenagers and young adults more than we ever dreamed possible, so when they turn their backs on us—whether for an hour-long car drive on vacation, a week of ignoring our texts, or a month of rejecting all offers to get together—the pain is more than we can bear.
Motivated by either our anger or self-protection, it’s tempting to turn our backs on our kids when they turn their backs on us. Instead of being a wall for our kids to return to, we put up walls that keep them away. In the midst of our trip to a coastal paradise, everything in me wanted to punish Krista.
To shame her into getting in the back seat.
Or take away her phone as a consequence for her attitude.
Or verbally lash out at her so she understood how she had hurt me.
Or ignore her and shower my attention on her brother, sister, and cousins. (That would really show her!)
Or all of the above.
I’m sure that in my disappointment, traces of all those so-called parenting strategies seeped into my interactions with Krista. But in the midst of my frustration, and even a few parental threats, I mentally repeated this mantra that I felt the Lord brought to mind: Be a wall. Be a wall she can come back to. Be a wall. Be a wall she can come back to.
Krista remained aloof for the next 24 hours. She rode in the car with my brother and his wife, not us. She offered to help with family meals only if I was not already in the kitchen. When I walked toward her, she picked up her phone and started texting a friend.
It took everything in me not to aggressively confront her or passively distance myself from her. Especially when I did the math on the daily cost of our vacation.
Be a wall. Be a wall she can come back to.
With two days left on the trip, Krista did come back. I can’t point to why it happened. There was no breakthrough conversation. No heartfelt apology. No fantastic sunset walk along the beach that changed everything.
Krista simply started to act like herself. Whatever thoughts and feelings had deepened the rift between us seemed to disappear. She started riding in our car more. She joked with us, making fun of my subpar basketball skills (at six feet, I’m all height and no skill) and Dave’s tendency to get lost on small, winding coastal roads. She looked at her phone a whole lot less and directly at us a whole lot more.
I’m so glad that during the two days Krista was distant from us, I didn’t say or do something that would create a permanent barrier between me and my teenager. That would dent my ability to be with her.
While Jesus is the ultimate “wall” we want our kids to cling to, during the ups and downs of our vacation all I could do was cling to this phrase: Be a wall. Be a wall she can come back to. But that phrase gave me enough courage to continue to be available for Krista—asking her periodic questions, affirming her contributions to our extended family’s fun and conversations, and smiling in her direction—all of which were cues I hoped would prompt Krista to reach for me when she was ready.
My vacation experience with Krista highlights the crucial role we parents play in withing. As we described in chapter 1, while withing is about our relationship with our child, we generally take the lead in laying the relational bridges that keep us connected. Our goal is to keep building new bridges that enable us to love and care for our teenagers and young adults as they (and we) grow older.
Whether we are vacationing or staying at home, our goal in withing—namely, a family’s growth in supporting each other as children grow more independent—is repeatedly stymied. Based on our interviews with parents as well as multiple studies of families nationwide, we’ve found that even when we want to be a wall that our kids can come back to, a host of questions plaguing either us or our children erode our relationships and threaten our family’s withing. Paying attention to these questions, and responding to them with the right warm strategies, is foundational to our ability to be the wall of support our (sometimes drifting) teenagers and young adults need.
How Is Pushing Away a Normal Step on the Path toward Interdependence?
The starting point for our relationship with our kids when they are infants is dependence. If we mentally rewind time, we recall how much our babies needed us—for food, for security, for a place to sleep, and for diaper changes.
If we fast-forward and imagine our kids as adults, our desired end point is interdependence, which in many respects is a synonym for the “mutual journey” that beats at the heart of our definition of Growing With parenting. We remain the parent and our child remains our child, but as our child ages, the hierarchy between us decreases and reciprocity increases.
But typically in between dependence and interdependence is the stage of independence.
Independence is the apex of our children pushing away from our withing wall of support. But it’s an (almost) essential liminal state that propels our kids toward the self-confidence and autonomy that enable them to transition to the next stage of interdependence.
Krista’s move away from me during our vacation likely had less to do with negative feelings toward me and Dave and more to do with her stepping into her independence stage. While that’s easy to tell myself in hindsight, the pain of her rejection in those moments short-circuited my rational (or even semi-rational) assessment of her actions.
Experienced Growing With parents are able to remove the blinders of their own anger or fear and view their kids as walking down a developmentally normal path from dependence to (the oh-so-painful) independence to (the oh-so-delightful) interdependence.
How Busy and Stressed Is My Teenager or Young Adult Right Now?
Those of us parenting learners are likely not surprised to hear that our kids are stressed, but we may be surprised by just how stressed they are.
“When our kids were teenagers, they had a lot of homework. Looking back, I think we should have carved out some time when we said, ‘Nope, no homework.’ Almost like a Sabbath—just a time when we are going to have fun without any homework.” —Adrian, a California dad of one learner and one focuser
Given the roller-coaster ride of adolescence, many parents are surprised to find that life after high school is typically even more emotionally jarring. Chief among explorers’ and focusers’ stressors are those related to “daily life management,” most notably new pressures related to time and money that accompany post–high school freedom and responsibilities.
How Stressed and Busy Am I?
As our young people wade through their “quarterlife” crisis, many of us are hip deep in our own “midlife” crisis. New pressures stemming from declining health, fractures in our family relationships, financial burdens, challenging jobs, and shifting relationships poke holes in our ability to be a stable wall of support for our family.
Sometimes these gaps are widened because of our frustration with our teenagers and young adults. When it comes to our withing goals, the good news is that parents of young adults categorize their relationship with their child as one of their top three joys. The not-so-good news is that these same parents also name it as one of their top three stressors.
Whatever the cause, multiple studies confirm that parental stress trickles, or in some cases surges, through our families. Following are some interesting (and may we say personally convicting) findings about the effects of our own stress on our children.
FOR THOSE OF US WITH TEENAGERS
Not only do our kids know when we’re stressed, they don’t like it. One study asked over 1,000 kids ages 8–18 with one or both parents working outside of the home what they would change about how their parents’ work affects their lives. The parents of these kids expected their top wish would be for more time together as a family.
The parents were wrong. The kids’ number one wish was that their parents would be less stressed and less tired. Only 2 percent of parents surveyed expected that would be their kids’ top wish.
FOR THOSE OF US WITH EMERGING ADULTS
How Much of My Kids’ Life and Choices Am I Trying (or Hoping) to Control?
Dave and I (Kara) once watched a TV drama about jury selection. During the juror selection process, one question the fictional defense attorney used to screen and understand potential jurors’ proclivities was, “How do you catch a cold?”
My immediate response was that I catch a cold when I haven’t been diligent in washing my hands, especially before I eat.
Dave’s answer was that he catches a cold when he’s been around someone who’s ill.
Note the difference in our responses and what that difference reveals about our sense of control. If I catch a cold, I assume it’s my fault. I didn’t control my surroundings well enough. In Dave’s mind, catching a cold isn’t a result of his own actions; it’s the often inevitable by-product of sitting near a sick child, friend, or colleague.
This will come as no surprise to anyone who has met Dave: I have a stronger sense of control—or really, a stronger drive to control—than he does.
The pattern in our marriage is not unusual. About 17 percent of mothers of emerging adults are highly controlling, compared with 7 percent of fathers. Unfortunately for me (and for our kids!), more controlling parents tend to have emerging adult children with lower levels of self-worth and higher levels of depression and anxiety.
Much of what motivates my own attempts to influence (okay, yes, my attempts to control) my kids’ circumstances and choices is my desire to protect them from pain. Ironically, what I most deeply desire and dream for my kids often comes from the very experiences I am trying to safeguard against. As our good friend and colleague Scott Cormode, himself the parent of two young adult daughters, has confessed to Steve and me multiple times, “As a parent, I want to protect my kids from pain. And yet I want my kids to display the maturity and character that usually comes only from experiencing pain.”
Two months into high school, our son Nathan was selected by his ninth-grade class to be part of the homecoming court. It was no big deal to him. In fact, he knew for three days before he even mentioned it to us. Nathan only let us know because we had to sign a permission slip for some extra court-related homecoming activities.
Fast-forward three months to the next high school dance—the winter formal in which the girls invite the guys. I was sure he’d be invited. I made sure his one and only dress shirt made it to the dry cleaner’s and back. Unbeknownst to him, I even scheduled a haircut for him a week before the dance so that on the big night, his hair would look good but not too freshly cut. (Don’t judge! I know some of you reading have done the same thing.)
Three weeks before the dance, a few girls started inviting boys. But no one invited Nathan.
Two weeks before the dance, more invitations were offered. But not to Nathan.
A week before the dance, Nathan got his scheduled haircut. But he still had not been invited.
During the 48 hours prior to the dance, the final flurry of invitations was extended. But not to Nathan.
This is embarrassing to admit, but if I could have found a way to bribe a girl in his grade to invite him, I would have. I didn’t want him to feel the rejection of not being invited—partly for his sake, but also for mine. If I’m honest, a tiny speck of rejection in my kid’s life becomes a black pit of shame in my own.
The night of the dance, Nathan hung out with a few of his friends who also hadn’t received invitations. He wasn’t that disappointed to skip the dance. He hates wearing a suit and tie (and don’t get him started about wearing freshly starched dress shirts), so a night of pizza and Netflix with a few buddies was just fine for him.
And I came one step closer to coming to terms with this truth: Nathan’s going to be rejected. It’s part of life. Even if I could Bubble Wrap him such that he’d never feel any pain, that’s ultimately not what’s best for him. What’s best for Nathan—and for me—is to experience the full roller coaster of life, knowing that growth comes from both the lows and the highs (and often more from the lows than the highs).
My (Steve’s) own struggle with my lack of control was crystallized when we dropped off our middle daughter at college. A few minutes after we walked away from saying our last good-byes to our daughter Elise, Jen said to me, “We’ve done all we can and now it’s time for Elise to live her own imperfect life.” Her comment jarred me at first (I was still wallowing in sentimentality), but I soon realized the profundity of Jen’s statement. She was naming that we aren’t perfect and neither is our daughter. I can’t control Elise’s life or decisions. My goal is to be a wall she can return to before, during, and after she makes those decisions.
What Conflicts Are Driving Us Apart?
Is conflict over money cooling your relationship with your young adult? If so, you’re not alone. In fact, one study of parents of 18- to 29-year-olds found money to be the top source of stress in their relationship with their child, experienced by 48 percent of those surveyed.
Frequently our young adults’ college debt is like kindling that fuels the fires of conflict over finances. For the undergraduate class of 2015, the average amount owed for education debt was over $35,000. In one survey, 30 percent of young adults admitted that they would sell an organ to rid themselves of student loans.
Other sources of stress for families with young adults include the following:
Focus of conflict
Commonly expressed by parents as
Money
48 percent
“I’m still waiting for them to become financially self-sufficient.”
Occupational progress
39 percent
“Will they ever get off the couch and find a job?”
Substance use or abuse
36 percent
“I wish they partied less.”
Educational progress
27 percent
“I fear that they won’t finish their degree or training.”
Romantic life
19 percent
“I think they could find someone better.”
Sex life
9 percent
“I’m worried about them being sexually active. I’m even more terrified about them getting pregnant.”
Perhaps the order of these stressors is different in your home. Regardless of what bubbles—or boils—to the top, it’s helpful to name and discuss your family’s hot spots before the next conflict emerges.
How Does Divorce Affect a Family’s Withing?
You may have heard the statistic that 50 percent of all marriages in the US end in divorce. It’s time—actually, past time—to correct that myth. According to the Census Bureau, 72 percent of those who have ever been married are still married to their first spouse. Included in the remaining 28 percent who are not married to their first spouse are those whose spouse has passed away. Given this data, one reliable estimate concludes that 20–25 percent of first marriages end in divorce.
While that lower divorce rate is something to cheer, we would hold our applause if we understood how divorce can scar a child’s sense of attachment and a family’s sense of warmth. Divorce leaves children feeling permanently conflicted, bouncing back and forth between two parents and often two homes. For young people from intact families, special events such as birthdays, holidays, and graduations enhance their sense of family withing. For teenagers and emerging adults from divorced families, these same events reinforce their sense that they stand with one foot in each parent’s world. When divorced parents start dating and perhaps remarry, teenage and young adult children often experience the conflicting emotions of joy over a parent’s new partner along with uncertainty about how to relate to their new stepparent and sadness that their original parents’ marriage is decidedly over.
In the midst of these obstacles to family warmth, children of divorce are three times as likely to feel alone, twice as likely to feel unsafe, and almost four times as likely to disrespect their parents. As they age, young adults from divorced families tend to have higher rates of alcohol and drug use, less academic success, and are more likely to be depressed and withdrawn.
Given both sets of our parents are divorced, the most heartbreaking statistic to Steve and me is how poorly the faith community supports young people affected by a family breakup. Of young adults who regularly attend a church or synagogue at the time of their parents’ divorce, two-thirds report that no one from their faith community reached out to them during that painful season. As a young person’s fabric of family is ripped apart, we who are in their faith community have the opportunity to weave ourselves into their relational network if we pay attention and proactively reach out to families in transition.
How Can Our “Welcome Home” Help or Hurt Our Withing?
In the US today, the typical age for leaving home is between 18 and 19, the lowest age on record. Yet in the midst of this early mass exodus from home, nearly half of today’s emerging adults move back in with family, the largest percentage in the last century.
In addition to those who “boomerang” home, 30 percent of young adults don’t move away from home until their middle or late twenties. These young adults often grew up in Latino, Black, and Asian American families who prioritize family closeness and interdependence. In other cases, young twentysomethings stay at home because they are simply not ready or financially able to live on their own.
Whether your child never left home or left home and returned, having your young adult living down the hall or basement steps can challenge your family’s withing. You and your child have both grown used to your independence. In the name of family warmth, you now have to readjust privacy patterns and personal space arrangements. Your child may resist any limits you try to set on their behavior and schedule, or your expectations that they pay rent or help with chores and meal preparation.
Yet many families find that the withing benefits of having a twentysomething at home outweigh these potential hazards. You and your explorer or focuser can pool finances to support the family’s housing. You can be a source of comfort and motivation as your young adult is finding their vocational and relational way. Living under the same roof gives you a real opportunity to establish a warm adult relationship with your son or daughter.
Furthermore, as boomeranging or staying at home through the early to middle twenties has become more common, there is less stigma and embarrassment—for you and your kids. In fact, 70 percent of 18- to 34-year-olds who are living at home with their parents report being satisfied with their family life and relationships. Admittedly, the parents of those young adults were not asked the same question, but this remains good news for parents who want to grow with their young people not despite but because of their shared living space.
Withing Ideas
Helping Learners, Explorers, and Focusers Slow Down and Set Limits
One primary way that Growing With parents tangibly support their children is by helping them slow down and set limits for their schedules and commitments. By middle school, many of our kids have outgrown the parental rule of thumb common during elementary school that says “only one extracurricular activity at a time.” And by high school, they may need to begin earning income to help with family expenses or looking ahead to pay for college. As we move into our roles as teachers, guides, and resourcers, we need better rules of thumb for making decisions that grow with our maturing kids.
While both Steve and I have had our kids tell us “I don’t like choosing,” helping our kids make the hard—but necessary—choices is not only better for them overall, but also makes it more possible for our families to be greenhouses of warmth.
One of the challenges of learning, exploring, and focusing is that young people are beginning to bump up against their limitations. They can’t do everything. They can’t be everything. They can’t go everywhere. They’re also learning more about the limitations of their social location, family financial realities, and their own abilities.
One Growing With parent we interviewed had a high school sophomore son who was stretched in multiple directions. She recalled, “Finally, he basically said, ‘I’m doing too much.’ He didn’t feel like he was enjoying anything he was doing. He felt like he was just padding his high school résumé, not because he was called to those activities. So he prayed about what God was calling him to pursue, and he dropped out of sports.”
In all three stages, we can help our kids understand that saying yes to one commitment generally means saying no to something else (either at that moment or later on). At first this seems like a life-limiting reality, but we have both tried to reframe the nos through dialoguing with our kids about specific questions that match their life stage.
So we’ll ask our learners: “Are you getting enough rest? If you had to eliminate one activity or commitment, what would it be?”
With our explorers, we’ll invite them to consider: “Who do you want to become as you’re headed into young adulthood? If you say yes to this and no to that, what new opportunities might come your way? What opportunities might you miss out on?”
And as our focusers are hip deep in adult-like schedules and tensions, we’ll nudge them about their schedule by wondering: “What do you sense God is calling you to work on? What’s most important to you, and how can your schedule reflect those priorities? What are the practical realities that you’ll have to hold alongside your priorities and longings?”
“The number one difficulty in our family is allowing the children to develop without letting them get too busy. Events and commitments just start to collide. We do not enjoy that, and our kids don’t either.” —Beth, a Wisconsin mother of a learner and an explorer
Adding to the schedule dynamics for those kids living at home is that families may also have expectations such as sharing in chores or joining the family for certain evening activities. While those who have left home have more schedule freedom, we can play a crucial guide or resourcer role by asking them questions like:
How do you plan to invest your summer?
What are your plans for spring break?
How are you feeling about your balance between work and play?
Where do you feel the most stressed and why do you think that is?
When can we plan a time for you to visit (or for me to visit you)?
Here are our hopes about the holidays. How does that plan sound to you?
When asking these questions, both Steve and I have found that as our kids age, we need to shift from being a teacher to a guide or resourcer. The type of schedule direction we give a 16-year-old is inappropriate, if not insulting, to a 26-year-old. Growing with our kids’ schedules means offering fewer suggestions and more questions.
If It’s Not a Definite Yes, It’s a No
I have yet to meet a parent of a learner, explorer, or focuser who doesn’t feel busy. If I (Kara) could change one aspect about my life, I would replace 10 to 15 percent of my calendar commitments with relaxed downtime with my family.
While I struggle to find the skill and self-discipline to make that goal a consistent reality, my calendar has become more manageable thanks to this simple principle I adapted from Essentialism by Greg McKeown: “If it’s not a definite yes, it’s a no.”
In my family, as well as with our team at the Fuller Youth Institute, I conducted a six-month experiment of using “definite yes” as a litmus test for whether to pursue a certain activity. Using that criteria was a game changer for my family’s warmth (as well as our team’s focus).
Should Dave and I accept an invitation from our son’s school to coordinate his grade’s camping trip? We already lead an annual camping trip with a bunch of families at our church (my husband is an Eagle Scout, so when we got married he introduced me to backpacking and I introduced him to a good hotel concierge). That makes hosting the school trip a maybe at best, so we said no.
Serving on a local nonprofit board we care about but that would involve monthly meetings at night? That’s more than a maybe but still not a definite yes, so I said no.
Driving my high school son to a week-long summer school intensive, giving us five hours in the car together? Heavens yes. Definitely yes. Can’t-wait-to-go yes.
We all live with commitments beyond our control that temper our ability to choose yes or no for ourselves. An inflexible work schedule, a chronically ill family member, or extended family obligations can put some of us in places where saying no feels like an incredible privilege. But many of us do have more choice than we act on.
I probably still set too low of a bar for my definite yes cutoff. But using that phrase as the criteria for making decisions about my schedule has given me more energy and time to be with my family.
During Family Conflict, Focus on Your Main Growing With Goal
In his advice to parents of young people, noted scholar and author Eugene Peterson encourages moms and dads to view conflict as an opportunity to exchange faith, hope, and love. I’m better able to do that when I keep in mind our main Growing With goal: to foster a mutual journey of intentional growth for both ourselves and our children that trusts God to transform us all.
When it comes to nurturing a “mutual journey of intentional growth,” our wise friends and fellow ministry leaders, Reggie Joiner and Carey Nieuwhof, astutely describe the difference between fighting with our kids and fighting for our kids: “When you fight with someone, you want to win. When you fight for someone, you want that person to win. When you fight with people, walls are built up. When you fight for people, walls come down.” In the midst of your family conflicts, you’re not trying to show your teenager or emerging adult you’re right. You’re trying to help them make right decisions while keeping a right relationship with them.
In the midst of trying to fight for and not against your young person, if your child is doing something risky—to themselves or others—don’t go radio silent. Speak up, and speak up promptly.
But before speaking up, ponder whether your child’s choices are truly dangerous or merely different than you wish they would make. As Jeffrey Arnett and Elisabeth Fishel wisely recommend, “If your son hasn’t shaved in a few days and looks rather scruffy and a family reunion is scheduled, well, that might not be pretty, but it’s not life threatening. But if your daughter shows signs that she’s smoking pot every day instead of looking for a job, that habit can be harmful.” At that point, “Parents need to step up, speak up, and be ready with resources for outside, professional help.”
What Do You Disagree With? What Do You Agree With?
Many parents who seek to build withing find that family relationships struggle when our maturing kids develop new convictions about morality, politics, or religion that differ from (and, more often than not, lean more progressive than) our own. If you’ve had your twentysomething come home for Thanksgiving and hint over turkey and mashed potatoes that they think you’re narrow-minded, out of touch, or even worse, a [insert political party name here], then you know what we’re talking about.
While Growing With families are bound together more by our relationships than our beliefs, we still need to have honest discussions about our diverging convictions and opinions. Normally I (Kara) am a big proponent that when it comes to evaluating an idea or debriefing an event with others, it’s best to start with the positive. Voicing together what we liked or what we appreciated about a shared experience creates an encouraging tone that makes us more open to constructive feedback.
But with my own kids, I’ve found it works better when I reverse the order. When I’m making an observation about our family or offering my opinion about politics, religion, or any other hot button topic, I can quickly tell when they aren’t jumping on my bandwagon (my kids’ body language is not very subtle). At that point I often ask them, “What do you disagree with, or what do you think is wrong, in what I’m saying?” I listen as they offer their (often very perceptive) criticisms of my perspective. I try not to respond with any counter-perspectives. I do my best to keep my ears open and my mouth shut. Whether or not they convince me that I’m wrong and they are right, I celebrate that they are finding and using their voices, and I thank them for opening my eyes to a different path forward.
Then I ask them, “What do you think is right, or what do you agree with, in what I’m saying?” I’ve found that once my kids have had a chance to critique me, they are far more open to verbalizing what they agree with, even if it’s just a few sentences here and there.
Growing With parents move past conflict and kindle the fires of warmth by asking their own kids for input on tough decisions. As one mom of teenagers we interviewed remembered, “My oldest son was floored when I asked for his opinion. He was like, ‘You want to talk to me?’ I said, ‘Yes, I want your opinion about this.’ He couldn’t believe it.”
Seeing Your Child through the Lens of Genesis 1, Not Genesis 3
One warm parent we interviewed offered his goal of viewing his children through the lens of Genesis 1, not Genesis 3. Genesis 1 describes the creation of the earth and humankind prior to the entrance of human sin. Sin enters our world in Genesis 3 when Adam and Eve eat fruit from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, disobeying God’s gracious boundaries that allowed them to eat from any tree but that one.
This dad continued, “I want to affirm that my two college-aged daughters are good, created in God’s image. Of course they sin, but I don’t want sin to define them. I want them to first of all know that God created them and loves them.” Not only does this vision help parents connect with their children when their relationships are sweetness and light, it also helps parents who have experienced more distance to gain a new start. Since our kids are created in God’s image, all is never lost.
The choices and journeys of far too many young people (as well as parents, including the two writing this book) are blown off course from the truth of Genesis 1 by shame. According to the understandably popular writings of social work researcher Brené Brown, shame is feeling bad about ourselves for who we are. In contrast, guilt is feeling bad about ourselves for what we do.
Your theology of sin might lead you to a different conclusion, but we believe that Growing With parenting emphasizes our kids’ sinful choices (i.e., “You made a bad choice”) more than their core sinfulness (i.e., “You are a bad person”). The first gives your young person hope that through the cleansing power and grace of Jesus, they can make better choices in the future. The latter often paralyzes your young person, robbing them of hope that they can ever change. While there are (lots of) moments when you need to share your concerns about your child’s choices with them, they will be far more likely to hear about your uneasiness—and make different decisions—if they know at their core that they are loved and valuable to God and to you.
As a result of our research, Dave and I (Kara) have framed our kids’ poor behaviors through the language of their bad decisions rather than a core bad quality that defines them. Often we tell our kids we’re surprised that they made a poor choice since we know they have a good heart.
But one vivid Saturday when one of our learner children (who shall remain nameless) was treating their sister poorly, I lost my temper. I broke my normal parenting rule of calling their behaviors bad and instead spoke in frustration, “You are selfish. You are treating your sister poorly because you are selfish.”
Immediately, the look on my child’s face told me that my harsh words had penetrated—and poisoned—their sense of themselves. My child started crying—not tears that streamed down their cheeks but tears that were so virulent they appeared to launch horizontally out of their eyes.
Choking back tears, this child asked, “I’m selfish? So you think I’m selfish?”
Instantly, I apologized. I confessed that I had misspoken. It wasn’t that they were a selfish person but that they were making selfish decisions.
That child graciously accepted my apology. But during three different conflicts over the next nine months, that child reminded me that I had called them selfish. They haven’t talked about that regretful day for the past few years, and I hope and pray that God will prevent my condemning words from robbing my child’s core awareness that not only does God love them, God likes them. They bear God’s image. The same God who knit them together in the womb is especially fond of them today. And so am I.
Two Words to Draw Them Back
“I don’t think you should be interviewing me for this study.”
“Why?” I asked Julio, a dad who had been nominated as an amazing parent of teenagers and college students.
“Because in the last 72 hours, I’ve had to ask each of my sons for forgiveness for how I’ve blown it as a parent.”
My response: “That’s exactly why we want to talk with you.”
This dad from a medium-sized Midwest city then explained how he recently had lost his temper with each of his boys. Each accepted his apology, and the fact that Julio repented stoked the fires of warmth in their family.
I (Kara) apologize at least once a week to one—or all—of my kids. Most of the time it’s because of my tone of voice. If you were to read a transcript of what I say to my kids, it wouldn’t seem too problematic. But if you were to hear the anger, frustration, and bitterness that taints my voice, you would understand—and affirm—my need to apologize.
If you’re like me, when you apologize, you’re often tempted to still criticize your child: “I’m sorry I yelled, but if you would have been less selfish, I wouldn’t have raised my voice.”
Or you give an excuse: “I shouldn’t have misjudged you, but I was really tired from a tough conversation with my boss.”
While many cultures frown on apologizing, based on our research, we recommend you instead say this: “I’m sorry. I was wrong. Will you forgive me?” No other additions are needed.
None of us are perfect—at parenting or anything else for that matter. If perfect parenting existed, we wouldn’t need Jesus. But it doesn’t and so we definitely do.
Seven Questions When Your Child Boomerangs Home
In order to increase the odds that your young adult’s return home is a blessing and not a burden, young adult scholars Arnett and Fishel offer the following questions to ask before the boomeranging begins:
In Their Pain, Acknowledge Your Own
Core to Growing With is the conviction that parenting is one of God’s greatest life curricula for us. Since the birth of our oldest, I (Kara) have learned more through parenting about myself, my sin, and God’s ongoing work in me than through any other facet of my life.
For those of us who are inclined to be the best goalie we can, deterring as much pain as possible from the lives of our teenagers and young adults, it’s time to ask ourselves these questions:
Admittedly, these questions are heavy. But they invite us to a depth commensurate with the depth of Growing With parenting—namely, as our kids grow, we are growing also. There is no such thing as healthy status quo parenting, just as there is no such thing as healthy status quo living. We are ever evolving and ever developing.
On those days when we find it easy to be a wall for our kids to come back to, and on those days when we feel kicked and bruised and ready to crumble, Steve and I take comfort knowing that just as God is continuing to transform our children, he’s transforming us too. Just as we seek to be with our kids, Jesus is Immanuel, the God who is with us in our family highs and lows—and everything in between.