From the Chaplain

Parents, take the pressure off. We're only human.

There are days I feel deeply disappointed. With circumstances? Yep. With how I feel let down by others in certain scenarios? Sure. Even disappointed with God in my finite understanding of what He’s up to? Sometimes. But the prevailing reason for my disappointment is usually… myself. As a follower of Christ, husband, father of three young children, Chaplain, friend and fellow human, there are so many times where the overwhelm of life leaves me feeling entirely underwhelmed with my ability to live into who I want to be in these various relationships and roles I inhabit on a daily basis.

I have felt the disappointment of having moved frantically through a day with hardly a moment’s awareness of God’s presence, or racing through a morning, self-absorbed in my concerns for the day and unaware of what others in my world are navigating. I’m so aware of the times I said I would do something and didn’t follow through as I intended, or the way I failed to treat a fellow human being as the invaluable, image-bearing treasure that they are.

But the greatest pain of disappointment I feel of late, is when I feel I’ve not truly seen my kids and their needs in a given moment, and have either entirely missed an opportunity or have responded (more likely, reacted!) in a way that tells them their needs are insignificant to me in that moment. 

The parent-guilt is real. We live in a time with more information than ever about parenting do’s and don’ts, ways to make or ways that “break” our children. Add to this our desire to raise our children to know God, and to represent His love for them in the way we parent, and it’s quite a weight we carry. We wish we could do this perfectly, but are all too aware of our shortcomings.

But maybe what we need - and perhaps even what our children need - is not for us to be more perfect, but to be more human? Let me explain…

Some years ago, at a time when I was feeling exhausted under the weight of my perfectionism, Psalm 103:13-14 cut through to my heart in a way that will remain with me for life.

“The Lord is like a father to his children, tender and compassionate to those who fear him. For he knows how weak we are; he remembers we are only dust.”

The relief I felt as a weight was lifted off me was tangible. He knows how weak I am. He knows I’m only dust. He is tender. He is compassionate. He is MY father.

If, like me, you feel overwhelmed in the role of parenting and feel that disappointment taking hold in the missed moments and the far-from-perfect interactions — take heart. You’re not failing. You’re human. And contrary to how we often feel, our weakness is not a liability — it’s an invitation to draw closer to God and to authenticity with our children. 

There is incredible comfort in knowing that our weakness doesn’t disqualify us. It is part of what it means to be human – and to be human is a sacred thing. God Himself, in Jesus Christ, chose to enter humanity, came to earth wrapped in the weakness of flesh and bone, and showed us that to be fully human is to be fully loved by God. And having fully entered our humanity, He understands our weakness. He was tested in every way we are, yet He lived the perfection that you and I never could.  (Hebrews 4:15)

The apostle Paul understood this well, having learned the secret of embracing the weakness of our humanity and encouraging us to do the same as we, like Him, struggle with our shortcomings and struggles. Having asked God three times to “fix” his weaknesses, he writes in 2 Corinthians 12:9, “Each time he said, “My grace is all you need. My power works best in weakness.” So now I am glad to boast about my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ can work through me.”

‭As I am learning more and more each day, embracing our full humanity, weakness and all, is the very access point to God’s empowering grace. 

So, fellow parents, thank You for all you do. You are doing a wonderful job. And, as we give our all to this incredibly beautiful, often overwhelming and uniquely challenging thing we call parenting, remember… we’re only human. That’s the best place we can be, the best thing for our children to see. That we are human. Fully human, fully loved.

Joel Overwheel

Chaplain