There’s something about following Jesus with a repentant heart that changes everything. It’s like a light switches on, and suddenly you see life differently. Things that once seemed so important lose their shine, and things you may have overlooked—like faith, purpose, and relationships—become the center of everything. And when that happens, your concern for the people you love, especially your kids, grows in ways you never expected.
It’s not just about wanting them to be happy or successful. It’s deeper than that. It’s this overwhelming desire for them to know the truth, to feel the kind of peace and purpose that only God can give. You want them to live with the assurance of knowing that no matter what happens, God’s got them. Proverbs 22:6 says, “Train up a child in the way he should go; even when he is old he will not depart from it.” That verse gives me hope, but if I’m honest, it also makes me wrestle. What happens when it feels like they’re far from that path? What if they’ve heard the truth, but they’re not walking in it?
That’s where the struggle comes in. You try to guide, but what you mean as love sometimes feels like control to them. It hurts, but I get it. Ephesians 6:4 reminds us, “Fathers, do not provoke your children to anger, but bring them up in the discipline and instruction of the Lord.” There’s a balance we’re called to, but it’s hard to find sometimes. How do you share truth without pushing too hard? How do you guide without provoking? That’s the tension I live in every day.
Faith is personal, and that’s the hardest part to accept. I can’t make anyone believe. God Himself doesn’t force us to follow Him; He invites us. Revelation 3:20 says, “Behold, I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and eat with him, and he with me.” That’s the picture of God’s love—patient, persistent, and always present. I try to model that, but I’m human, and sometimes my love comes out in ways that feel too pushy or intense. It’s not because I want to control; it’s because I care so deeply. I just want them to open the door.
When I pray for them, it’s not just about asking God to change their circumstances. I pray for their hearts. I pray for God to protect them from the things I know are out there waiting to pull them away from Him. Philippians 4:6-7 gives me comfort: “Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.” That peace is what keeps me going when I feel powerless, which, honestly, is most of the time.
It’s hard to watch someone you love struggle or make choices that you know will lead to pain. I’ve been there; I’ve made those choices myself. And I know firsthand how heavy life gets when you try to carry it without God. That’s why I long for them to know Him—not just in a surface way, but to truly know Him. Because when you know Him, everything changes. Matthew 11:28-30 says, “Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.” That’s the rest I want for them, the kind of peace that nothing in this world can take away.
But here’s what I’m learning: it’s not my job to fix everything. It’s my job to live out my faith in a way that reflects God’s love, to pray without ceasing, and to trust Him with the rest. 1 Corinthians 3:7 reminds me, “So neither he who plants nor he who waters is anything, but only God who gives the growth.” That verse humbles me. It reminds me that I can plant seeds, I can water them, but I can’t make them grow. Only God can do that.
So I focus on what I can do. I can love unconditionally, like 1 Corinthians 13:4-7 calls us to: “Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrongdoing but rejoices with the truth. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.” That kind of love isn’t always easy, but it’s what we’re called to. It’s the kind of love that keeps the door open for when they’re ready to come back.
And I can live authentically. 1 Peter 3:15 says, “But in your hearts honor Christ the Lord as holy, always being prepared to make a defense to anyone who asks you for a reason for the hope that is in you; yet do it with gentleness and respect.” That means showing them through my actions what faith looks like—not a perfect life, but a real one. It means admitting when I’m wrong, asking for forgiveness, and showing grace.
The hardest part is surrendering. Trusting God’s timing isn’t easy, especially when your heart aches for the people you love most. But Isaiah 55:8-9 reminds me, “For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, declares the Lord. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts.” God’s plan is bigger than mine, and His love for them is even greater than mine.
So I keep praying, I keep trusting, and I keep loving. I don’t know when or how the seeds will grow, but I believe in the promise of Galatians 6:9: “And let us not grow weary of doing good, for in due season we will reap, if we do not give up.” It’s not easy, but it’s worth it. God is faithful, and His love never fails. And that’s what keeps me going, one step at a time.