It seems as if when I was a child and expressed doubt, worry, uncertainty, fear, or any other concern about myself, there were two responses. An adult would say to me, “Oh, you’ll do great,” or “You’ll be fine.” It was no comfort. It did not stop me from thinking about my problem. To adults, of course, children’s worries seem minuscule, especially compared to their own troubles. Their assurances that I would figure it out, work it out, or get through it would not have been welcomed by them if a friend had pooh-poohed their fear of a medical diagnosis, inability to make the mortgage payment, or get through their crisis at the office. The result of those adult dismissive comments to me was that I went away feeling even worse about the “little” problem I had. Thinking it over today, with all my adult children now hearing their own children’s “little” woes, I cringe to think that my own response to my children was probably similar to what I had received. 

Among the multifaceted wonderful suggestions you Patreon friends gave when we asked for feedback a few weeks ago, was “Write about what ‘if only I knew then what I know now.’ So here’s what I wish I had considered and practiced when my children were young.

Charlotte Mason encourages parents to live in sympathy with their children, to remember themselves what it was like to be a child. That’s my first “wish I had.” I wish I had listened more carefully, stopped to acknowledge the child instead of continuing to sort laundry or knead bread, and really listened to the heart behind the vague, “I don’t want to go…what if I can’t do it…I don’t know how…” etc. From my adult vantage point, not only was their timidity ridiculous because, after all, I absolutely knew they could and would do just fine, but I didn’t take into account their lack of perspective and life experience. Here they were coming to me humbly, trustingly bringing their secret fear, and I more times than not just brushed off their words. 

The very first cause I had for putting my trust in Miss Mason’s method of education was when Emily was reading Home Education to me and Charlotte Mason pointed out that her method was rooted in the gospel, the gospel where Jesus says, “Let the children come to me and hinder them not…despise them not…offend them not.” Surely dismissing their weak efforts to confide is doing all those things?

There are more ways to insult or belittle a person than by outright ridicule. Not listening is insulting them as insignificant. My confident replies certainly despised the sincerity or legitimacy of their words. Either way, by sin of omission or commission, I had offended them. My cheerful optimism about their future meant to quickly bolster their self-esteem likely resulted in the opposite effect in their heart, and, if I’m honest, was more often just to save me the time of stopping what I was doing to focus on the heart behind the words.

Out of the mouth the heart speaks—also from the gospel. In those moments, I was being offered the opportunity to hear their heart, know their heart, and minister to their heart. I wish I had realized this. Maybe that’s why some of them stopped bringing their troubles to me as teenagers. Naturally, we want our children to grow in wisdom and walk in truth and become independent decision makers. I could have increased their maturity very easily by just asking a few simple questions, so simple:

“Is there something in particular that is making you feel that way?”  “What is the scariest part?” “Tell me what you think will happen”—or some such gentle probing would easily probe under the surface. Of course, the revelation may tempt you to smile at the silliness, the irrationality of their thoughts. But, these are young minds that have not yet learned the art of processing through their fears and orienting themselves to the truth. That is where we can guide. These opportunities are actually moments to turn children to their God for help, assurance, or strength. This is habit training at its emotional best: “When I am afraid, I will trust in you,” also a favorite verse of Charlotte Mason. Eventually, we all know, we will not be the major guiding influence in our child’s life. But don’t we always want their go-to source to be God Almighty himself, the one who made them, knows them, and knows all their future?

Ed Welch, in his little book Side by Side, talks about the basic human need to be seen and heard and the ministry we have to anyone we speak with to easily do so just by listening. Listen for the good, affirm that. Listen for the hard, sympathize. Listen for the bad, gently uncover the sin and point them to Christ. This is possible in simple conversations and prolonged counseling sessions. Most of us are pretty good at the crisis counseling moments of our children, but I wish I had realized when my children were young how crucial those little whining, faltering queries were.

We all know people are more important than things, more important than the task at hand. Our worship of productivity and control of time, as Jen Pollock Michel so masterfully describes in her latest book, In Good Time, causes us to miss the persons made in God’s image who are right there in front of us. Our times, David said in Psalm 31, are in His hands. So are the people He sends our way at odd and inconvenient times all day.

“Unless you become like a little child, you will not enter the kingdom of heaven.” Obviously he does not consider the smallest need insignificant. We forget, in our packed out days, that these children are sent by God. Yes, they are weak, inexperienced, and even silly. But they will not always be so.  The biggest lesson I learned too slowly is that I am not God, not master of my own time. Each of us moms need to begin each day coming to the Lord like our children, asking for little things, confiding our little fears.  He is never too busy. And while we’re at it, we can ask Him to help us to hear with His ears when a mild doubt or worry is expressed by our children, to do the same. We will have a precious chance to teach, “Cast your cares on Him, for He cares for you,” and they will believe it because we took the time to listen.

~Liz