A Letter to the Parent Who Struggles with Worry

Dear Parent,

Welcome to an overflowing room of kindred spirits. The question could be raised, "Can one be a parent and not worry"? Unfortunately, the answer is somewhere amidst the strong of faith who shout words of affirmation and the faithful who admit crippling fear but whisper frantic prayers. Neither is better or worse—just parents. Parents who love, whose hearts broke the moment their child breathed their first breath, and they realized that the journey from that point forward would be one of pain, and parents who fear the unknowns.

Our worst fears run the gamut from fear of accidental injury or death, prodigal children who must pay large consequences, complacent hearts with agnostic tendencies of faith, and concern for an unfriendly world whose measurements of morality, worth, and kinship are so unpredictable and fluctuating that finding belonging is mostly impossible.

Dear parent who worries, you are not alone.

I wish there were a series of one, two, or three steps toward worry-less parenting. A prescription, if you would, of concocted prayers mixed with verses for the perfect antidote to eradicate fear. And though we know the truths of an all-sovereign, all-powerful God, we also know the promise of a broken world and the tribulations that are inevitable because of it.

As we study the forms of our children, their profiles, the twinkle in their eyes, and the bounce in their steps, we ache to wrap our protective arms around them. To be the buffer from the storms that will rage against them. To break the wall of flames that wait to consume them. To soak up every drop of the tsunami that even now shadows their horizons.

Parenting is a journey of faith, and faith is not instinctive, nor is it—if we are honest—preferable. We wish to control, to see, to be warned, to prepare, to plan, and to advance upon adversity in the offense. And then, in the murky waters of anxiety, we tune our ears to listen. Yes. Yes. There is an offensive.

Dear parent, remember to teach your children the way they should go. Teach them the essence of life that comes from their Savior. Ground them in the truths of His inerrant Word. Train them in discipline and persistence in the pursuit of holiness. This will be taught from your example more than your words. This will be what they see, breathe, and absorb in the years they grow and develop. The truth of who God is, the facts of their own sinful selves, the joy that is grace, and the sacrifice that is Jesus. This is the path, and they will not turn from it.

Dear parent, remember to show your children your desperation. This is not the futile desperation of a worried parent. No, this is the all-encompassing desperation for the Lord. The infusing of Him into every aspect of your lives. Deuteronomy 6 imparts us to impress the commandments on our children. To talk of them when we sit at home and when we walk along the road. To speak of them when we lie down and when we get up. To bind them to us, to mark our homes with the words of the Lord. Those who are desperate to survive cling to that which will give them life.

Dear parent, remember to draw near to the One who saves. Be anxious for nothing, but in everything, pray. In everything. In every worry. In every heartbreak. In every argument. In every injury. In every wrongdoing. In every offense. Even in death - pray.

As my children grow, I become more aware of my inadequacies as a parent. I am regularly reminded that despite my best efforts, I cannot shield them from everything. Some things, yes, but not all. Not the ones I want to shield them from the most. The ones that cause the deepest wounds, the brutalist scars, and the most malicious infections. But I can help prepare them for the battles to come. I can be proactive in their training so that when these times of tribulation come upon them, wave after they wave, they too will fall back on their Savior in their time of need.

There is no greater form of protection to impart to our children than that of their spiritual armor. Teach them how to put it on, wear it, and use it—the sword of faith, the belt of truth, the breastplate of righteousness.

Are you giving your children their spiritual inheritance before you are in your grave? Are you preparing them for the days to come? Have you written your daily and weekly practices on your calendar so that none will be missed, your children will hone their spiritual skills and sensitivities, and when the game of life comes, they can become champions of faith? Can you become a champion of faith?

"We will not hide these truths from our children; we will tell the next generation about the glorious deeds of the Lords, about his power and his mighty wonders." – Psalm 78:4

Dear parent who worries, there will always be something to fear. Always. Darkness and wickedness hunt your children with the wildness of sin's deviousness. But in that world of hopeless realization, the light of a savior shines with purposeful intention. It pierces the blackness and brings home the promises of His mighty acts and power. It foretells a promise that was, is, and will come. It penetrates the hearts of the fearful with courage that comes only from One who knows the ending of the battles will be that of joy for those who seek after the holiness of God.

Dear parent who worries, there will always be someone to hope in when your child lies dying, is broken, or has passed away. There will always be the Father to hope in when trials consume and tribulations weigh. There will always be our Warrior God when we are afraid of what is to come. When peace envelopes us, and we fear the day that it dissipates, we are left in crumbling ashes to watch our children stumble and stagger through the rubble. There will always be a Savior who speaks hope and life into our futures. An eternity where the brokenness is healed, the fear is washed away, and the promise is brilliant in all its truthful fruition.

Dear parent who worries, I won't say, "Don't worry." For health, worry is less a worry and more of an intensive focus on the honing of faith. Your children need to see your worry turn into confidence in the One who goes before us so that when they go out to conquer the world, and instead, the world threatens to break them down, your children will hear that shout on the wind. That cry of confident victory: "Great is the Lord! He is most worthy of praise! No one can measure His greatness." Psalm 145:3

No one can measure His greatness, and His greatness goes before you.

Photo credit: ©Getty Images/Drazen Zigic

Jaime Jo Wright is an ECPA and Publisher’s Weekly bestselling author. Her novel “The House on Foster Hill” won the prestigious Christy Award and she continues to publish Gothic thrillers for the inspirational market. Jaime Jo resides in the woods of Wisconsin, lives in dreamland, exists in reality, and invites you to join her adventures at jaimewrightbooks.com and at her podcast madlitmusings.com where she discusses the deeper issues of story and faith with fellow authors.