Something happened at the soccer field yesterday that has
had my mind reeling ever since. During a
pretty intense game of YMCA soccer, a mom looked over at me and said, “Your
boys are climbing on that railing, are you okay with that? I didn’t want to tell them to get down if you
were all right with it.”
I truly appreciate her asking. She had no ill will, no judgment
whatsoever. She is so sweet and kind and
I enjoy her company. I know that she
wouldn’t let her son climb on the railing.
I told her, “I’m fine with it, but thank you so much for checking.”
Here is why I am fine with it: I want my boys to grow up to
be men. Not girls.
As crazy as my house is, and for as many times a day I ask
myself if I am somehow allowing wild animals to live in my house when I could
have sworn I had actual human children, I prefer it. I do not want to raise passive boys who have
no fight or sense of adventure.
I do not want my boys to be rude or rough with things that
need to be handled delicately. I want
them to be respectable. However, if they
are not hurting anything, or breaking someone’s rules, I want to say “yes” as
much as possible. You want to play in
the dirt? Go for it. You want to jump off the clubhouse? Sure. It
is high and you might break your leg, but you might land it perfectly. So long as you know the risk. You want to rappel off the clubhouse with
your jump rope? Okay. I am just thankful it isn’t the stairs this
time. You want to slide down the stairs
on a cardboard box? Great idea. Wait there while I get the camera. You want to push the lawnmower with
daddy? Awesome. Maybe you can start mowing the whole
yard. You want to climb up the slide the
wrong way at the public park? I don’t
mind. Just don’t get in the way of those
trying to use it correctly. You want to
play karate chop on the trampoline and see how hard you can kick each
other? Go for it. Just don’t do it with a mean spirit and don’t
come crying to me when you get hurt because I warned you what might
happen.
Boys need adventure.
Boys need to be able to take risks.
Boys need to be able to build things.
Boys need to do hard things. They
need to be able to act like boys. My job
is to teach and train them to make wise decisions, and sometimes that doesn’t
equate “safe.”
Here is what I am struggling to understand. So often I find us moms telling our kids
“no.” Not because something is bad, but
because we think of all the ways they could potentially get hurt. We are trying to keep them safe from ever falling
down and shedding a tear. No one keeps
score. Everyone gets a trophy just for
participating because we don’t want to potentially hurt anyone’s feelings and
we want them to feel good about themselves.
Then, these boys who have been told “no” their whole life because
something just isn’t safe, get older. We
get upset because men are not leading their families, or not sticking around at
all to be a dad. We are upset when they
turn into passive, apathetic men who take no risks and wouldn’t be willing to
take a punch for anything of significance.
Haven’t we trained them this way by never letting them take risks, never
letting them do hard things, never letting them get too adventurous? Haven’t we trained them to fear hurt and
failure? It seems to me that we have
made safety a god.
I just don’t want that for my boys.
I am not at all advocating parental negligence or stupidity. I think there is a huge difference between
allowing our boys to take risks, potentially get some bumps and bruises and
shed some tears, and being an uninvolved parent with no sense of stewardship
over the children God has given you.
Here is my point:
If I am raising my kids to be safe, why in the world would
they want to risk their life for King Jesus?
If I never let them take risks now, how do I expect them to
do that in the future when it matters?
If I raise them to be afraid of everything, how will they stand for anything?
If I am training them to always be afraid of getting hurt, how do I expect them to allow God to take them on wild adventures of faith?
If I am training them to always be afraid of getting hurt, how do I expect them to allow God to take them on wild adventures of faith?
My biggest fear is not that I won’t be able to keep my
children “safe”.
My biggest fear is that out of their own fear and comfort
they would say “no” to Jesus.
I want my children to be dangerous for the gospel.
Risking your life for the sake of the gospel is not a
tragedy.
Saying “no” to Jesus because you fear for your safety is
beyond tragic.