Honestly, I’m worried. Maybe you are, too. Perhaps you’re like me and have three very young children. It could be that you have older kids, teenagers or even young adults. Some of you are undoubtedly grandparents or even great-grandparents. And others of you likely don’t have any sons or daughters but love children and do what you can to support your friends, your family, and your church in caring for their kids.
What am I worried about? I’m worried about my children, and I’m worried about your children, too. Predators, illness, injury, hurt feelings, loneliness, peer pressure—the list of dangers and problems our kids may experience is almost endless. But I’m writing not about those evils. I’m writing about one specific worry—my worry for the future.
I see the cultural pressure against Christianity. It’s been building for decades. It seems to be getting more intense. Entire professions, barring a change in the culture, may well structure themselves so as not to allow faithful Christians into their ranks. Will it be possible to be a licensed counselor if you refuse to recommend “gender reassignment” surgery? Will you be able to become a public schoolteacher if you can’t proclaim the latest gender ideology? If you’re known to be opposed to “gay marriage,” will you be able to get a license to practice law or get hired at a law firm? The list goes on. Are my children going to have to choose between their faith and their desired vocation? Will they suffer a lower standard of living because of their choice?
My greater worry is nominalism and apostasy. Will my wife and I raise our children in the faith only to see them leave it or treat it as indifferent? What can I do now to prevent that? Is there anything I can do to prevent it?
In my fear and worry, my only refuge is the sovereign goodness of God. “If [I] then, who [am] evil, know how to give good gifts to [my] children, how much more will [my]Father who is in heaven give good things to [me and my household] who ask him!” (Matt. 7:11). The Lord will provide for my family now and in the future as we seek His face. We do not know how He will provide, but we know that everything that comes from His hand is ultimately a sign of His goodness even if we cannot understand it now.
“The promise is for [me] and for [my] children and for all who are far off, everyone whom the Lord our God calls to himself” (Acts 2:39). The salvation and perseverance of my children Leah, Jonathan, and Mary Catherine isn’t my job. I’m called to give my kids the Word of God, but only God can give them new hearts. I must trust Him for my children’s redemption, knowing that His will is perfect and that He loves His people.
In sum, I must remember that my children aren’t finally in my hand but that I and my children are in God’s hand. And while I will still worry, at least from time to time, there’s no safer place to be.