One of my children recently didn’t achieve the teacher recommendation they needed for another year on student council.
And I felt the tug-of-war in my innards. Part of me ached for the rejection they felt, particularly coming from a teacher who siblings confirmed was particularly difficult. I sought to turn off the ignition to my inner snowplow, shaking off the urge to appeal.
But words from a friend, maybe a decade ago now, bubbled to the surface of my brain. Can getting caught–or discipline itself–be a mercy?
Getting caught: A severe mercy
In my mind, the answer’s a resounding yes.read more
For this overachieving people-pleaser, purity culture helped my cravings (e.g. for others’ approval, or to find my identity in my performance) simply “get religion”–and a little moral lipstick.
Are there practical ways to coach my kids toward a lifestyle of sexual integrity–without the power of shame or fear behind it? What should/could dating look like, if it’s not only to find a spouse? In light of some of the vitriol-filled conversations around modesty, how can I keep my kids from letting their bodies be sexualized?
Why Talking to Kids about Sex Matters More Than You Think
And I’ve discovered just how vital discussions about bodies and sex are with kids even in preschool as together, we start building a God-centered worldview (…before other kids and Google build it for them).
Training from Dr. Juli Slattery and others has convinced me that
Discipling our kids in their sexuality matters also because sexuality deals with the most intimate parts of who we are.
What we believe about sex starts with–and reflects–what we believe about God. And vice versa: when sex gets confusing, our relationship with God gets confusing.
God created sex as a transformative, experience-this-in-every-part-of-you metaphor for His covenant (hesed) love. Slattery sums this up by pointing out how sex mimics its celebration, intimate knowing, faithfulness, and sacrifice. And of all the lessons our kids receive, are there many more important than God’s covenant love? It makes so much more sense to me now why God created sex as a precious and powerful force in our lives.
Someone is discipling my kids sexually, even when I’m not.
Rather than the purity culture narrative of religiosity and reaching maturity when someone marries, I hope to direct my kids toward a different story. I’m talking lifelong integration of their faith with sexuality–with God as the ultimate redeemer. Not their ability to come to him with all their boxes checked.
Then, for each age group, grab a PDF of what to talk about with your child at each stage, so you’re equipped for “mini and many” developmentally appropriate conversations. (Hint: In this world, if you’d like to be the first one to talk to your child about an issue, that issue might need to feature much earlier than you’d think.)
Talking to kids about sex might be even more important than you thought. But you don’t need to fly blind. And like me, destructive patterns in how you learned about sex can stop in your generation, in your family.
Your turn.
What’s been important for you in talking to kids about sex?
My daughter was highlighting my hair (yes, from a box. Yes, to cover the gray that’s laying siege to my scalp) when she told me about a friend who’s not sure if she identifies herself as a Christian anymore.
As when I hear about anyone who’s deconstructing faith, my chest tightened at the sternum. It’s painful for the person, and it’s painful for those who love them.
Someone pointed out that church hurt (in part the cause of this friend’s pain), and often deconstruction, typically results from emotional trauma.
So often, deconstruction happens because of what’s happening in our stories. Something has become more than we can process.
What gave me hope: My daughter was working hard to create emotional space for her friend to grieve. Feel angry. Ask questions.
And those are meaningful in part because in the past—and her present, though less so—my daughter’s needed the same.
Why a Child Deconstructing Faith Doesn’t Always Have to Freak You Out
Perhaps accelerated by my family’s return to America from the mission field and other difficult experiences we encountered here, three of my four kids at this point have needed to army-crawl through painful seasons in their faith.
I’ve hit my knees hard for each of them. And sometimes their questions have felt–do feel–threatening.
But there with my daughter, as I perched on a stool in my bathroom, I showed her this video from my friend Tony.
It encapsulates much of what I believe about deconstruction: It can be devastating, or it can be one of the best things that happen to them—or it can even be both.
In fact, what if we should all be deconstructing at some level?
I say this because deconstructing happens when something about our relationship with God or our faith paradigm collides with a part of real life that doesn’t fit–like a too-small pair of shoes you’re hobbling around in. Something’s gotta give.
For my kids, asking the right questions has formed a significant part of owning their faith as they come into young adulthood—coincidentally, another significant prayer request of mine.
(A missionary once told me that when his kids turned about 11, he realized how little control he had over them choosing God for themselves.)
I wouldn’t wish my kids’ pain on a snake. And no one wants a child deconstructing their faith. But like a butterfly from a chrysalis, they needed to acquire this faith-muscle on their own.
Why your kids need to ask the hard questions
To put a finer point on it—if my kids aren’t asking tough questions, I’m asking how deeply they’re interacting with their faith. They need a faith as robust as life’s most terrible crises, most searing nightmares, most harrowing ethical dilemmas.
And that’s not born. It’s forged. David, Job, and John the Baptist are just a few of the Bible’s deconstructionists.
Pastor and author Tim Keller observes about doubt,
A faith without some doubts is like a human body without any antibodies in it.
People who blithely go through life too busy or indifferent to ask hard questions about why they believe as they do will find themselves defenseless against either the experience of tragedy or the probing questions of a smart skeptic.
A person’s faith can collapse almost overnight if she has failed over the years to listen patiently to her own doubts, which should only be discarded after long reflection.
…Only if you struggle long and hard with objections to your faith will you be able to provide the grounds for your beliefs to skeptics, including yourself, that are plausible rather than ridiculous or offensive.
He points out that this process also makes us more compassionate and curious when someone else struggles with doubt.
What Not to Do When a Child is Deconstructing Faith
Having three kids who have walked through that gut-wrenching season—and having edited a few of the resources I’m suggesting below—I’ve gathered a few basic don’ts.
Try not to…
Freak out.
Instead, spend a lot of time in prayer for your kids. Prayer when a child is deconstructing faith is a valuable time for God to help me understand my kids’ hearts, the questions they’re asking, the reasons beneath their pain, the values generating friction with faith.
Luke 15 proved a vital passage to camp out on when my kids were asking tough questions. Tremendous wealth can be mined there about our “search-and-rescue God”, as Dr. Juli Slattery calls him.
One of my primary takeaways from the story of the prodigal son (vv. 11-32) is that the younger son’s heart as far from the father before he asked for the money and went to a “far country.” We can tell because of the disrespect he shows his dad just in asking: Let’s pretend you’re dead and I get my part of the money.
The father could have been like, “Hey, I know how this ends. Let’s just save my money and cut to the party. I’ll throw in a fattened calf and we’ll call it good!”
But the son needed to travel through the foreign land and eventually end up eating with the pigs, longing to be home with his dad. He needed to see his dad running from his lookout post, needed to feel his father exchanging the rags of a pig herder for the robe of a son.
It’s possible your child needs this dark season to develop a genuine love for and trust in God.
I was once told that someone’s hurt points to their heart, which becomes holy ground. Yes, there is definitely a place for apologetics or the right Bible verse, and sometimes it’s just the right time for truth and wisdom.
But in my limited opinion, part of the problem of the American church in the 90’s was our collective opinion that (misquoting Field of Dreams here), “If we speak truth, they will come.” We believed (a bit one-dimensionally), If people hear the truth, that’s what they need most.
Time and again—Zacchaeus, the woman at the well, lepers—I see Jesus asking questions and/or entering into people’s story first. He leads with love.
(Interestingly, Mary and Martha are both leading and struggling with faith when Jesus, on purpose, doesn’t show up before their brother dies. They ask the exact same question, but Jesus answers Martha with truth, Mary with shared tears.)
Our kids’ questions are often the result of deep pain. So maybe invite your child out to coffee, or to a place where you need to drive awhile, and can cultivate conversation.
Then reverently, intentionally make time to listen, listen, listen. Say, “Tell me more.” Ask questions. Seeking to truly understand may be of more value than snuffing out kids’ soul-questions.
Respond with platitudes or minimizing.
This may not be the time to roll out a chipper rendition of Romans 8:28.
When your child’s asking questions about faith, they may just be questions. Or they may be the tip of a significant iceberg. So first, you could ask:
How would you answer that question?
Would you feel comfortable telling me more about why you’re thinking about that?
How does that issue make you feel?
Freaking out? Try these resources instead.
Wanting alternative ideas for how to respond ? Check out these articles, downloads, and podcasts.
Christianity Today’s addictive limited podcast series The Rise and Fall of Mars Hill.Host Mike Cosper details the story of the birth and collapse of a megachurch in Seattle—but far more than this, elements baked into the culture of American Christianity that set our churches up for failure and alienation. If you’ve had difficult church or parachurch experiences, you might find this consoling and eye-opening, as I did. And ever-so-subtly, you might just find it an eye-opener about the current evangelical/political scenario.
The “messy middle” parts of your kids’ stories can be downright terrifying. Frankly, I’m glad my kids at this point have deconstructed while under my roof, where we can still perch on a couple of barstools in the kitchen, eye-to-eye. Where they can see the compassion my husband and I feel when days feel dark.
If your child is deconstructing faith, I’m praying for you as I type. Maybe, like my daughter, someday they’ll be the one midwifing a friend’s pain.
I still remember where I stood that Sunday. I must have been three or at the oldest four. The church’s smell of coffee drifted above the part in my hair, crisply pleated lines of men’s suit trousers at my level.
I reached up to take again my dad’s hand, callused and rough from years of farm chores. Yet the chuckle I heard wasn’t his.
Most of us have a short, uneventful anecdote like this: I took a hand, but it wasn’t my parent’s. Yet for me as a child, surrounded by a sea of bodies seven times their size–I only remember the fright sprinting through me.
The man was polite. The problem wasn’t that he lacked kindness.
It was that he didn’t love me, wasn’t in charge of protecting me, wasn’t mine.
Author and spiritual director Alice Fryling suggests situations like these as a metaphor for the coping mechanisms which have served us (in varying degrees of health) all our lives.
But we’re holding a hand–a source of motivation and nurture–that doesn’t love us or genuinely care for us.*
Who’s in charge here?
Recently I realized a certain person has come to mind almost daily in my parenting for years–a person who passed away years ago.
I knew their parenting to be a bastion of control and order. Everyone knew who was in charge.
I hadn’t even realized how often this person was coming to mind. But just last week, when I examined their presence in my mind, I comprehended how frequently I felt afraid and insecure as my kids tumbled into teenagerhood.
Did I mention I was nearly always coming up wanting?
Interestingly, this person wasn’t someone who I knew to be a deep lover of God. When I stepped back, I didn’t even think, “I hope my kids turn out like theirs.”
Developing a “follower” mentality where these children have trouble deciding things for themselves
Difficulty discerning right from wrong on their own
Low self-esteem and seeking confirmation of their worth from outside authority figures
Still, in my default factory mode, something suggested I should have that level of control with my kids. When the world goes pear-shaped, a primal part of me thinks making a rule or exerting authority is probably a pretty great solution.
The only hand to hold
Intriguingly, operating out of fear and operating with wisdom may often look the same.
But the hand they hold isn’t.
In my experience, parenting is chockful of fear. Everywhere.
Loving someone so much naturally carries a desire to protect and preserve. That fear is an amoral emotion that keeps us from kissing our kids on the forehead to say, “Have a great day, honey! Go play in traffic, talk to strangers and get in their vehicles, and don’t bother washing your hands after the bathroom.”
Fear in parenting is a given. But as I read recently, emotions are like kids. You can’t let them drive the car, but you shouldn’t stuff them in the trunk, either.
Controlling parent? First, be aware
Of course, most controlling parents don’t think they’re controlling. They just know the right way to do things, and love and protect their kids, right? (“Call me a ‘control enthusiast.’)
So first, to unstuff the aforementioned trunk–let’s be aware of when we’re afraid. Then, we can manage the fear, rather than fear subtly or not-so-much managing us.
When I’m relying primarily on my authority and structure to set the world right, I’m essentially trusting–holding the hand of–control. That’s where my confidence lies.
And unhealthy control (versus wise management of our homes) is the extension of my fear. Some of the most controlling parents I’ve known have been parents who’ve loved dearly–but wrestled with deep fear. And often because of things that happened to them as kids, including authority figures with whom they felt unprotected.
Those situations have a way of making us vow, That will never happen to my kid.
Yet God casts a far greater vision for me as a parent. He asks me to first rely on who he says I am: a deeply beloved child of God.
I can trust him with my kids rather than myself because his is the only reliable hand to hold.
Heads up: Parenting driven by love may not always mean we manage our kids perfectly. But our management of our kids no longer propels our identity.
Am I a controlling parent? Warning signs
Check out posts like these for signs you might be a controlling parent.
Get curious about your inflamed, emotional, and/or disproportionate reactions. Try asking yourself, What am I afraid of? Often there’s a legitimate fear that may be expressed in illegitimate ways.
Fear can lead to some of our worst, most thoughtless, and reactive parenting. When you’re tempted to respond with shock and awe, press pause on the situation. Wait until you’re out of the fight/flight/freeze part of your brain (studies show that’s about 20-30 minutes). You can still discipline your child after that point, but it’s harder to undo reactionary parenting.
Get curious about your own past, and consider whether therapy might be wise–including EMDR, a technique for those who hope to “unwire” trauma in their brains. You don’t want the legacy of a controlling parent to define your kids as adults, or stand in the way of healthy relationships (including you) as they develop more independence.
6. Be the first one to admit what you did wrong, even if you feel your contribution was only 1% of the problem. Take 100% responsibility for your portion, and ask forgiveness for it.
7. If you’re looking for ways to parent with emotional health, one of the best is to think quick-slow-slow*: “Be quick to listen, slow to speak, slow to become angry” (James 1:19). This might look like
giving a thoughtful, measured consequence rather than a reactive one.
keeping a level head when your child is melting down. Respond with a gentle answer, which “turns away wrath,” rather than a harsh word that “stirs up anger” (Proverbs 15:1).
responding thoughtfully when your child says something that raises your inner eyebrows. Ask questions and offer reason. Resist the urge to respond out of fear or anger.
My kids are getting older, which means winter break looks different here. Sniff.
Of course, we’ll still be decorating cookies and mushing together the family clam dip. (It’s a Breitenstein thing.)
But Christmas Eve, we’ll have three different pickups of three different kids: two teenagers have gone for more fun with relatives this week, and my oldest–the Marine–arrives from Camp Pendleton.
But that also means I’ve curated a stash of grown-up prizes to woo them: Garfield socks, Mandalorian Pez, Black Rifle Instant Coffee, watermelon bath bombs.
Because no matter their age, having ideas in your back pocket for kids on winter break is just plain fun. And trust me: You’ll want the memories.
But hey, tired parents: You are not the cruise director/court jester/general fun planner for your kids on winter break. There are great benefits to kids being bored– and there are even dangers to our kids having the expectation they will always be entertained.
That said–
Ideas for Kids on Winter Break
Have an old-fashioned taffy pull.
When we tried this with my kids and their cousins, I was delighted to hear my mom–who was admittedly a little skeptical of the potential mess–remark that this was a lot easier, cleaner, and faster than she thought! Try a recipe like this one.
Keep a good old-fashioned puzzle going, or a long-term strategy game.
Pop up a card table and allow family members to mill around a puzzle, or a game to ensue that normally you wouldn’t have time for (Monopoly, Axis and Allies, Risk, Settlers of Catan).
Have an indoor hot dog/marshmallow roast.
…Even if it’s just over your stove burner.
Don’t forget the s’mores! (Side story: We once constructed a pseudo-smore roast in Uganda. I loved our adult Mukonjo friend’s expression when he first tried one! “These are AMAZING!”)
Make simple T-shirts or bar towels with iron-ons.
Get this: You can print your own T-shirt iron-ons, using printer papers you find at, say, Walmart–like this or this. Or Michaels.com has some fun ones with sloths, mermaids, donuts, sushi…
Older kids might enjoy designing their own for free on Canva!
Stencil T-shirts.
With a fabric medium like this, you can add the medium to any color acrylic paint–and it automatically becomes a fabric paint!
This is how I created a Charlie Brown t-shirt for my son (the yellow one with the black zigzag at the bottom?). My daughter also has experimented with some beautiful feather stencils.
Pass on a family recipe.
Kids on winter break can be a little more open to learning new skills, and might even be kind of sentimental around all the Christmas sparkle. Maybe it’s grandma’s cinnamon rolls, like in my family. Teach your child how to make a heritage recipe this year.
Start a chapter book together.
School nights get a little crazy. But I have fond memories of reading Hatchet during bedtime reading (or at least started it; my kids got too anxious and finished it on their own. Not a bad thing).
This is a great plan for kids who struggle to settle down after a long day, and particularly for kids on winter break.
If you’re too bushed, plunder audio books as an alternative. My kids were able to understand more than they could read in elementary school, so it was fun to listen to books like The Candymakers or classics like The Boxcar Children.
To have on hand for the panhandlers in your city, kids on winter break can do what my sister prepared for all the nieces and nephews.
She placed one item from a list like this at a time in plastic wrap, and wrapped around it several times. In the same sheet of plastic wrap, she added another item, and kept wrapping.
(For a more environmentally friendly option, try hiding the items around the house.)
By the time all of the items for one bag were wrapped, she had a giant snowball of plastic wrap for each family–so fun for kids to pass around and pack for the homeless in resealable bags. (Bonus: It helps your kids see the homeless in your community and connect with them.)
Create a Christmas scavenger hunt.
I come from a family full of great ideas! One year, my sisters planned a massive scavenger hunt for our gifts for our nieces and nephews. The whole fam dressed in Christmas gear–the hats and headbands, the striped pants.
Through clues on strips of paper and vehicles at the ready, we led them to different locales around the city: Listening to a story read by Grandma in the children’s area of the bookstore. Getting cake pops at Starbucks. Singing Christmas carols to the pets at the pet store.
The kids L-O-V-E-D it, and we now have great memories around their small gifts from last year.
We’ve also done a version at the mall, where the adults dressed in disguise, and the kids had to find all of them.
Make Sand Art Brownies
for teachers, neighbors, etc. Here’s a good recipe! We used Christmas colors for the sugars, and tied directions onto the jars with twine.
This week, I’m welcoming guest authors Donna Kushner and Amy Schulte, a mother-daughter team who, in Amy’s childhood, served as missionaries in Palestine. Both currently work with refugees in professional and personal capacities. (I personally worked with Donna on a free resource to guide immigrant and refugee families into healing.)
Together with their Jewish heritage, Amy and Donna bring a unique perspective on how to talk with kids about the Israeli-Palestinian conflict.
To be clear, Hamas and Hezbollah are terrorist organizations, and their crimes are horrific. Yet they are not equivalent with Palestine—a state “comprising parts of modern Israel and the Palestinian territories of the Gaza Strip (along the coast of the Mediterranean Sea) and the West Bank (west of the Jordan River),” Brittanica writes.
One 2013 article estimates 200,000 Palestinian Christians reside in Israel. The U.S. Department of State estimates “50,000 Christian Palestinians reside in the West Bank and Jerusalem…there are at most 1,000 Christians residing in Gaza.” For many years, these believers have been targeted in persecution not only by Muslim extremists, but also by Jewish extremists, protected by the Israeli government. Romans 9:6-8 reminds us both Abraham’s biological offspring and these Palestinian brothers and sisters, too, are part of Abraham’s children and his promises.
The American church has deep sentiments about this conflict, currently donating in record numbers to relief efforts in Israel. No matter your current thoughts on the crisis, perhaps you’ll find these thoughts as enlightening as I did—and continue to pray for those in both sides of the conflict.
Where I Come From
=&0=& On October 7th, when I saw the news about what happened in Israel, my heart sank. The images and stories plastered all over the news horrified me.
I also knew what was going to come next.
I braced myself for the suffering that was about to be unleashed on Gaza. I am half-Jewish, and lived in Israel from age three to eight. But my parents worked with Palestinians, and I attended an Arab school. We sat with refugees in the West Bank, and we heard the stories.
I cannot be pro-Israel, despite the resounding Zionist chorus echoing from the American church. Firsthand I have experienced the history of the region and the many ways that the creation of Israel and its subsequent expansion led to the suffering of Palestinians who had lived there for hundreds of years.
I cannot be pro-Hamas, although I believe that without the suffering and oppression of Palestinians, Hamas would never have come to power. During my time in Israel, I lived through the terror of the first intifada–the first Palestinian uprising that began in 1987–and I can never condone the methods of terrorism.
I have often said that in this conflict, no one is righteous. I am grieved by all of it.
How I Talk with Kids About the Israel/Palestine Conflict
The next morning, I sat down with my 7-year-old and showed her a map of Israel. I pointed out Haifa and Jerusalem, cities she had visited on a family trip.
Then I pointed out Gaza and the West Bank, and I started to tell her about what had just happened, what would likely happen, and why we should care.
I told her some stories about my childhood in the region, and the extreme poverty of the Palestinians. I looked up the statistics, which indicated almost half of Gaza’s population are under the age of 18; 40% are under 14.
If we say that we care for the innocents, we cannot only care about the Israelis that were killed and taken hostage. As Christians, we must also care for the thousands who would be killed by Israel’s retaliation.
I reminded my daughter of our Muslim friends, and that they matter too. Jesus doesn’t just call us to love those who are like us.
In fact, we are most like Jesus when we care for the least, the lost, and the last. The millions of Palestinians trapped in Gaza definitely fit that description. We should also care about what happens to them, along with our compassion for Israel’s victims.
My Family’s Experience on the West Bank
=&2=& When I heard about the Hamas attacks in Israel my thoughts went immediately to a visit our family made many years ago to a refugee camp in Bethlehem on the West Bank.
It was our first time meeting refugees. I will never forget when one of the family’s seven children came running into their bare, concrete flat with a beautiful blue dress for our one-year-old daughter.
I was embarrassed to think about all the dresses hanging in my daughter’s closet back home. This family gave us a gift beyond their means, served us coffee and cake, and welcomed us, first as strangers, and then friends.
Our family has recalled this visit from time to time. I pray it instilled compassion in my kids they won’t easily forget.
The current conflict is a heartbreaking next step in decades of suffering. My heart aches every day as I read the news.
Why We Must Talk with Kids About the Israel-Palestine Conflict
Though hard to talk with kids about the Israel-Palestine Conflict, it is essential we do.
Most of our children will hear about this conflict. Our youngest children might just hear about it in passing or during prayers at church. Our older children might be watching it unfold online. If we fail to have these conversations we are, by default, giving the influence to the loudest voice in the room.
That voice may be the voice of someone who believes in a one-state solution which is an Arab state. Or someone who believes Israel should have every part of the land between the sea and the river. Or the voice of a moderate who desires peace and just solutions for all.
It is important to note that these voices are both inside and outside of the church.
So how do we talk to them about what is happening?
How to Talk with Kids about the Israel-Palestine Conflict
Do your research on this conflict and the 80 years of history before this—before you’re an unwitting contributor.
This article from Boston University points out how =&5=& both of which play no small role in the ongoing conflict itself. How we dialogue contributes to a war of public opinion.
So as a parent, be informed. Read about both sides of the conflict, not just now, but over the past 80 years.
Examine your own heart, your prejudices, your information sources. Spend time in prayer before speaking with your children.
Correcting Our Own Misinformation
Amy: In my work with refugees, we often mention how most refugees spend 10 to 15 years in the camps waiting for resettlement.
One day I was speaking with some co-workers, and we started discussing the history of the Palestinians. I realized that some Palestinians have been living in refugee camps since 1948. That’s 76 years!
We don’t read about this in the news. We might see something about the Gaza blockade, or the statistics of population and poverty, but we very rarely get to see the longer lens view of history that led to this point.
Donna: When we lived in the Middle East most of our time was spent inside the “Green Line” where Palestinians are Israeli citizens. We heard about the West Bank and Gaza from time to time, but in my heart, I didn’t really believe the people lived under occupation.
One summer we spent a month in Bethlehem, and witnessed the realities of life under occupation. We visited the camps, experienced water being turned off for large parts of the city regularly, and saw the squalor from lack of adequate sanitation. This was a completely different world than the one inside the Green Line.
Ask what information your kids have heard.
When you talk with kids about the Israel-Palestine conflict, it’s valuable to first ask questions before you teach.
Have they heard about what’s happening? What have they heard? How do they feel about it? What do they want to know?
Teach empathy.
As you choose to talk with kids about the Israel-Palestine conflict, it’s an opportunity for your child to develop and feel empathy for people they have never met.
Find a couple of age-appropriate stories you can share with your child–one from each side of the conflict. Help your child get to “know” real people and what they have experienced.
Remember the power of seeing through someone else’s eyes to defuse hatred and prejudice.
Challenge older kids to research all sides of the conflict.
Remind them to always question their sources. Social media is not considered a trustworthy source—but many adult news outlets also report slanted or inflammatory headlines.
Encourage them to ask, “Who might disagree with this headline, and why?”
This webpage also suggests asking thoughtful questions of news stories, like these:
From whose point of view is the news reported?
What are the unchallenged assumptions?
Do stereotypes skew coverage?
Is the language loaded?
Pray together for the people on both sides.
Ask your child what is on their heart to pray about.
If they’re old enough, let them lead you both through a time of prayer for the people of Israel and Palestine–maybe with an online prayer guide. Perhaps ask your kids if they’d like to give to a humanitarian organization to help victims from both Israel and Palestine.
Find ways to meet Jews and Palestinians in your community.
Proximity–seeing Jews or Palestinians across a cup of coffee, or in your hometown–puts faces to what is often just a series of news updates on your phone.
You might already know Jews in your community or even through your church.
As Christians, it is less likely that you know any Palestinians, but we guarantee they are there in your community. Look up Arab restaurants and go have a great meal. Making it clear your purpose is to show kindness, ask if anyone in the restaurant is Palestinian. Ask them about how they are doing. That bit of compassion will mean the world to them.
Remind younger children that they are safe.
The news is filled with stories of the innocents–including children and women–who were killed in the initial attack and more of who are dying daily in the continued bombing of Gaza.
It’s okay to feel sad and to grieve the loss of life as you talk with kids about the Israel-Palestine conflict. But in light of anxiety-inducing headlines and conversation, remind your children that they are safe. Allow grief to soften your hearts to pray and advocate for those suffering.
Spend some time with your child walking through Scripture.
Start with the many ways that God calls His people to seek justice, fight oppression, care for the poor, and welcome the sojourner–i.e the refugee.
These verses can get you started.
Isaiah 1:16-17
“Wash yourselves; make yourselves clean; remove the evil of your deeds from before my eyes; cease to do evil, learn to do good; seek justice, correct oppression; bring justice to the fatherless, plead the widow’s cause.”
Zechariah 7:10
“Do not oppress the widow, the fatherless, the sojourner, or the poor, and let none of you devise evil against another in your heart.”
Exodus 22:21
“You shall not wrong a sojourner or oppress him, for you were sojourners in the land of Egypt.”
Jeremiah 22:3
“This is what the Lord says: Do what is just and right. Rescue from the hand of the oppressor the one who has been robbed. Do no wrong or violence to the foreigner, the fatherless or the widow, and do not shed innocent blood in this place.”
Deuteronomy 10:18-19
“He defends the cause of the fatherless and the widow, and loves the foreigner residing among you, giving them food and clothing. And you are to love those who are foreigners, for you yourselves were foreigners in Egypt.”
John 13:34-35
“A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.”
=&21=&Amy’s mom, works with immigrants and refugees in her community. She and her family served overseas for five years among Palestinians. Donna loves embracing Jewish traditions, particularly in light of her husband’s Jewish background. She especially loves celebrating Passover because Jesus has a clear seat at the table.
=&22=& Donna’s daughter, loves her half-Jewish heritage. She also spent five years living amongst the Palestinians, and another two years living in the Arab Gulf region. She currently works at a refugee resettlement agency and is raising an inquisitive 7-year-old daughter and a stepson who is a senior in high school.
I have known for awhile now that I am the creative-learning parent; the you-have-clean-underwear parent; the you-do-not-have-Ricketts-or-scurvy-because-you-eat-balanced-meals parent. But fun parent, I am not.
BUT. You can be the fun parent while still teaching your kids the good stuff–like how to be thankful for more than one out of 365 days a year. And November’s a great place to start.
Ready to help kids give thanks?
4 Easy, Fun Ways to Help Kids Give Thanks
Put a spin on “What Johnny Has in His Pockets.”
There’s a classic game you may have played: The first person in a group says, “Johnny has apples in his pockets.”
The person next to person #1 says, “Johnny has apples and bananas in his pockets.”
Person #3 says, “Johnny has apples, bananas, and cookies in his pockets.” Apples, ananas, cookies. Get it? It’s a memory game.
Help kids give thanks by trying a version of this at your table, maybe without the ABC’s (up to you). Go around your table or living room in a circle, seeing how many rounds you can play of this game–with each person remembering the sequence of each of the people before them were thankful for, then adding their own.
“We’re thankful for…our dog, running water, Mr. Jones at school, your friend Katie…and I’m thankful for our vacation this summer.”
Help kids give thanks by turning a favorite game into a gratitude game.
This takes a little creativity, but not much.
Say your family likes playing Jenga. When someone successfully pulls out a block from the tower, have them say something they’re thankful for as the put the block on top of the tower.
If you’re playing catch together, whenever someone catches the ball, have them say something they’re thankful for.
Or create your own version of Memory/Concentration using index cards, writing things your kids are thankful for.
Have a zero-prep Scavenger Hunt, Thankfulness Hide and Seek, and more.
I helped FamilyLife.com develop this free download for families, The Gratitude Project–including a family paper chain (can you make a chain of thankfulness long enough to make it up the staircase?), a quick hands-on devotional for the whole family about complaining, and a scavenger hunt that you can totally do as the Fun Parent.
(Or if, like me, you could use some Fun Parent points.)
Make thank-you cards.
Yank out your markers and craft supplies, and have kids make a thank-you note–or as many as they’re excited about–for one person in their life. Bonus points if the person totally won’t be expecting it!
This is a great activity for the witching hour, i.e. when you’re making dinner and the kids are more squirrely than ever.
Kids can also send video thank-you cards via text or an app like Marco Polo.
Dr. Martin E. P. Seligman, a psychologist at the University of Pennsylvania, tested the impact of various positive psychology interventions on 411 people…
When their week’s assignment was to write and personally deliver a letter of gratitude to someone who had never been properly thanked for his or her kindness, participants immediately exhibited a huge increase in happiness scores. This impact was greater than that from any other intervention, with benefits lasting for a month. (emphasis added)
When we help kids give thanks, we set them up for a lifetime of connection with God–and, in the genius of his design, even set them up for happiness. Brain science is indicating gratitude actually rewires our brains toward willpower, long-term happiness, and calm.
So have some fun with your kids this month, you Fun Parent you, and maybe even cultivate long-term character and rewards.
Hungry for more ideas to help kids give thanks? Try these posts.
I once sat with a friend whose child’s needs are so severe, it’s almost impossible for my friend to feel connected to them. Or to feel like they’re offering their child much of value.
Grief, alienation, and anger creased my friend’s features.
I prayed silently while my friend told their story. What did I even have to offer this depth and breadth of pain other than that and my presence?
I asked my friend, “At the risk of oversimplifying God’s ways—has he given you any idea of why he gave [this child’s name] to you guys?”
My friend’s answer was quick; they’d thought of this before. “I have no idea. I mean, I know it was for a reason. But I’m just trusting.” They shrugged.
When everything feels like a mistake
I do think God handed me one realization for that moment. When in doubt, more and more, God seems to ask me how I could apply the Gospel to a certain situation. Wisdom, in no small part, starts there.
I softly articulated that I believed what my friend is doing is a deep work of the gospel.
Their love plays out God’s generous, compassionate, steadfast love with no fire escape to this child (hesed covenant love, in the Old Testament Hebrew). And not just to a child most likely to, say, be a contributing member of society, or one who “gives back” to their parents.
That afternoon, I decided to get curious about areas in my own parenting when my sinful side, my flesh, wondered if there had been a mistake in the kids I’d been given, or the parent they’d been given in me.
Like the time my first (of three, it turned out) child was diagnosed with ADHD. These kids thrive on structure, I read. A parent like my mom was so much better at that; certainly, I thought, not an inherent creative like yours truly. (This, of course, turned out not to be true.)
What I got wrong about the goal of Christian parenting
As I reflected on that conversation with my friend, a blanket wrapped around me on my front porch, I realized part of what I got wrong, however subtly, was in my initial goal of my parenting.
See, I would have told you the goal of godly parenting is to raise godly kids who love Jesus with their lives.
Yes, of course this is still true. But it’s not the goal for me anymore.
I also believe God gives us kids to replay the gospel over and over in our homes.
That plays out in, say,
Creating a culture of “I’m sorry/I forgive you” in our families.
Our kids—and us—showing and experiencing covenant love to each other, even when it’s least deserved.
In moments of anger and conflict, coming toward each other, like he came toward us.
Returning a blessing in the face of an insult (1 Peter 3:9).
I’m talking love that goes the distance when one of us is far.
And when a part of me wondered if some mistake had been made—like heartbreaking high-stakes decisions my kids made as teens—doubt rolled in like storm clouds because honestly, the pain felt exquisite.
Surely, I thought, I got wrong something else. Love, in my mind, just couldn’t feel this gross. Or suspiciously resemble such sweeping failure, or holes punched into their future. Or like my friend, couple itself with unspeakable grief.
Think bigger
But doesn’t that describe God’s role with his kids in the Old Testament, and culminating at the cross? Weren’t they ignorant, outright rebellious, unfaithful, unseeing in the face of sheer love?
And wasn’t he still glorified as he loved them, and loved them again? As he continued to lean in, even in their blind mutiny?
Rather than perfection, my home thrives beneath the life-altering power of undeserved mercy and kindness to each other.
Can I tell you something embarrassing? …I’ve been working up to this.
When I was a super-young mom, I was thinking about writing a novel. (I have a different one on my hard drive that will likely never see the light of day.)
But initially I thought maybe one character would be a great mom. Because if people saw a great example, that would help a lot. Who knows the great families that could result?
Anyone else see the vast horde of problems with not only the idea, but me?
Fast forward several years, to me standing by my gate in Africa–the only place on our property that got cell signal, other than shimmying up our water tower. I was relaying to a friend through the phone how I’d blown it with my kids.
“I mean,” she said, “parenting’s not about our perfection, right? Just that our whole family needs Jesus.”
Let’s play “spot the poser”
As a firstborn, somehow the idea of “being a great example” lodged inside me deeper and more potently than it should. (There are more confessions to be had in “The Pitfalls of Being a Good Example“.)
First of all, I mistakenly thought that all people need to know are the right ways to go, and they’ll go.
Yeah. Forehead-smack emoji.
But secondly, I realized how a lot of the ways I’d become a “good example” were shellacking over my own brokenness than really dealing with the deep sin and distance from God in my heart–or even my own emotions.
Perfect kids–and the problem with our lives being “on display” for Jesus
Yesterday I interviewed a man who expressed his dislike for the idea of Christian marriages being “on display” for the world, to give them a picture of God.
I mean, yes. But no.
Yes, our marriages grant the world an intimate view of who God is; Ephesians 5 talks about how it plays out God’s sacrificial love that makes us beautiful, how we submit to one another out of our worship for him.
And even sex, Dr. Juli Slattery points out, shows God’s covenant love to our holistic selves in four crucial ways: Faithfulness. Intimate knowing. Sacrificial love. Passionate celebration.
But the idea of marriage “on display” isn’t some shiny, sugary version that fakes it till it makes it.
Part of the potentially shocking wow-factor in marriage is the forgiveness, the perseverance through the ugly and sore, the patience and the need to reach toward each other over mountains of humanness.
My friend realized the way he pushed past uncomfortable, negative emotions–like anger, sadness, fear–actually drove him farther from God. It drove him to unhealthy eating habits and sexual proclivities, and to hiding from others.
His fakeness for the sake of the outside made him a worse Christian on the inside.
What we get wrong about our “testimony”
People talked a lot when I was a kid about your “testimony” or your “witness.” It’s legitimate, scripturally-speaking.
I mean, Jesus himself tells us, “let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven” (Matthew 5:16).
And Peter, too, writes, “Keep your conduct among the Gentiles honorable, so that when they speak against you as evildoers, they may see your good deeds and glorify God on the day of visitation” (1 Peter 2:12).
The idea of “walk[ing] in a manner worthy of the calling to which you have been called” (Ephesians 4:1) is doused all over the Bible.
So are we called to holiness? Yes.
Is it partly to show the world Jesus? You bet.
But sometimes, I was a lot better at showing the world what would look good rather than my need for Jesus, and the way he was changing my brokenness.
Of course, there were people in the Bible who did that, too!
They were called the Pharisees.
Spoiler: The world can find squeaky-clean moralism straight-up suspicious.
…Because it is, people.
A lot of people who would think themselves moral don’t know how to interact with the broken, the washed-up, the addicted, the promiscuous. (Jesus did.)
And we’re typically not as moral as we think we are.
We’re arrogant and (we think) self-saving. We’re top-notch parents and top-shelf spouses with picture-perfect kids, and we certainly don’t need help. Much less a therapist. We are the helpers, the blessed, the grateful-we’re-not-like-them.
Why a broken world needs way more than perfect kids
I historically shoved the cart before the proverbial horse, thinking what people saw mattered more than what Jesus was doing inside of me. I even excelled at a curated imperfection. And at times, I’ve wanted that for my kids.
But the world needs my perfection, or my perfect kids, a lot less than it needs Jesus.
And more than simply moral, perfect kids, it’s compelled by kids who know how to travel through people’s brokenness with them.
Can my kids empathize? Can they listen well? Are they full of an irresistible, genuine humility?
God doesn’t just save me or my kids so we’ll do the right thing–as if we’re of much better use that way. If all he needed were a bunch of good examples, there might have been more efficient, successful ways…?
God saves us to restore him to himself, to reconcile a lost relationship.
And that friends, is what a bleeding world needs a lot more than someone who crosses over to the other side of the road to avoid soiling themselves by “those people.”
Yes, our kids’ example and our holiness matter. They don’t need to be swan-diving into the dung heap with everyone else.
But compassion–and the ability to witness every day our collective, equalizing need for Jesus?
I'm totally #thatmom--the one diving into all the weirdness with my kids, sidestepping a few eyerolls.
Pull up a chair for practical ideas and discussions on the parenting, relationships, and spirituality we're all army-crawling through every day. After five and a half years in Uganda, my family and I returned to the U.S., where I write and speak professionally, and we continue to work on behalf of the poor. My first solo book, Permanent Markers: Spiritual Life Skills to Write on Your Kids' Hearts (Harvest House), released October 2021.
![Now You're Speaking My [Love] Language](https://www.janelbreitenstein.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/08/love-languages-text-1.jpg "Now You're Speaking My [Love] Language")
