Jesus didn’t dismiss his pain, even while He fully leaned into the Father’s plan.
Recently, for the first time in many years, I had the not-so-fun experience of getting shampoo in my eyes, and Mama, it burned! It instantly reminded me of the many times I wrestled an alligator—I mean, my son—during bath time. Every time a single drop of water entered his eyes he’d wail, flail, and scream. Mind you he was often the one splashing the water that entered his eyes. That little boy, now 12 and the oldest of my four, no longer has bath time battles, of course, but I can vividly remember praying when I was the one with soap-filled eyes, Lord, help me remember this pain the next time he insists the water is burning his eyes.
Now, every few years when I accidentally get soap in my eyes, I’m reminded of that moment, frozen in time, and it makes me smile because the Lord always reminds me: When they say they are not okay, listen! Just as I listen to you when you cry out to me.
The Power of Listening in Parenting
I’m in a wild season of life with two middle-schoolers, a toddler, and a newborn. There are plenty of I’m-not-okay moments. From midnight spit-ups, to toddler trips and tumbles, to the perplexing plights of pre-teens there’s bound to be someone who needs a listening ear.
It is all too easy at times to want to say, “You’re okay.”
When I’m bouncing my teething baby, "It’s okay."
When my toddler barely falls on her diaper-padded bum, "You’re okay."
When my daughter is nervous about her theater audition, "You’re okay."
When my son’s new haircut was not at all what we asked for, "It’ll be okay."
Not only is it untrue to their experience in those moments, it’s honestly such a dull phrase. It quickly shuts down the conversation instead of opening up opportunities for connection, vulnerability, and building trust.
To my sons and daughters: I will not tell you that you're okay when you are not.
Even when I think it's something silly.
Even when I think you are being dramatic (after all, you are my kids).
Even when I think you barely bonked yourself when falling down.
Even when I knew that heartbreak was always coming.
Even when I want to scream, "Don't care about what anyone else thinks!"
Even when I think my wisdom could solve your problem in a minute.
I will listen first. I will always try to understand what stirs inside your hearts.
I won't try to fix it simply to quiet you.
I won't try to diminish your pain or hurt.
I will hold you.
I will hear you out.
I will cry with you.
I will sit with you, and be still.
I will allow you to feel it all.
I will not teach you to stuff it and grow bitter.
I will not turn you away.
I will always let you come to me.
I will teach you to talk through the reasons behind your feelings when the time is right.
I will not let you hurt others in the midst of your hurt.
I will remind you the rest of the time how much joy and beauty you bring to the world.
I will encourage you to get up again.
I will be your biggest cheerleader.
Above all, I will point you to the truth.
But first I will listen. Because when I cry out to the Lord, He listens.
Sitting in the Tension of Sorrow and Hope
In fact, He is already waiting, arms wide open. Not ready to condemn me. Not ready to diminish my, at times, immature thoughts. Not ready to shrink my feelings or words to what is deemed 'appropriate.' After all, He can handle it. My mess, my struggles, my crazy, none of it phases Him. As my Father, He is there to hold me, quiet my heart with His peace, and prepare my spirit with His love so I can truly hear from Him.
He sees my pain.
He hears my cry.
He reminds me Jesus became human and felt it too.
Because here’s the thing—yes, it will be okay because Jesus lives. I know the end of the story, and I trust the Lord’s work in me and my children will continue until completion. But can you imagine for one second Jesus crying out, “My Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me; nevertheless, not as I will, but as you will” (Matthew 26:39) and the Father responding, “You’ll be okay, Jesus”? It darn well wasn’t going to be okay—at least for a little while—and Jesus knew that. Just before this prayer, He told his friends, “My soul is very sorrowful, even to death” (Matthew 36:38).
He understood our humanity because he lived it fully. And in that humanity there is a raw, vulnerable space we can find ourselves in. But this is also where surrender lives.
Knowing it will be okay isn’t always apparent in the midst of suffering. When we as parents are comfortable enough to sit in the tension of sorrow and hope, we can help our children learn that while it’s not okay right now, that doesn’t mean there isn’t also a promise of redemption. Jesus didn’t dismiss his pain, even while He fully leaned into the Father’s plan.
He cried out to His Father. His Father listened.
Being Present in the Storms
Not telling my kids they are okay when they are voicing the opposite may seem like a ridiculous hill to die on, but in the end, it isn’t about avoiding the mess; it’s about recognizing that life will have its hard moments, but God is present in every single one. However, when they are young they cannot fully grasp this. Telling my crying one-year-old “God's in this” isn’t enough. So, in the meantime, I will show them. God is present, so I will be present. His love is steady, so mine will be. His peace is unshakeable, so I will be the calm in their storm.
I want them to experience the truth in what might seem like trivial childhood woes to adults. A bad haircut feels like a catastrophe, and a toddler tripping over their own feet feels monumental. Of course, as adults, we know there will be much bigger challenges ahead, but in these moments this is the weightiest thing your child has faced. They are, in a way, asking, "Will you be present with me in this?"
The answer must be yes. Because when you show up for them in the seemingly small moments, you’re building trust—trust that will carry them through the much bigger struggles later on. Perhaps this makes us ponder: as adults, our own worries and suffering, though they may seem overwhelming to us, are not too great for God to help us through as well. Because even when it’s not okay, the story is far from over.
Photo Credit: ©GettyImages/triloks
