Someone recently asked me, “If you could, wouldn’t you keep your kids from making mistakes and take away every bit of sadness and pain?” My reply without hesitation was a clear, “No.” They paused as if they didn’t believe me, cleared their throat and re-stated the question. “You mean if you could prevent your kids from experiencing sadness and pain you wouldn’t do it? You wouldn’t stop their mistakes before they made them?”
Still no.
They were incredibly surprised and even got a little defensive about my answer, on my children’s behalf. I guess I understand that reaction. Sort of. I mean, I wouldn’t want anything tragic to happen of course, but barring that, I think it’s good for people to have both good and bad experiences.
Am I alone in this?
Like silly memories do, that conversation made me think of a pajama shirt I had in middle school. I hadn’t thought of it in years. It read, “To err is human, but isn’t it divine?” (A spin on the saying, To err is human but to forgive is divine.) I liked the shirt, but I never understood what it meant back then. This conversation brought it into clarity.
Making mistakes is part of the human experience, and it defines who we are to various degrees. We either learn from the mistakes of others (thank you, high school history class), learn from making the mistakes ourselves, or keep making the same mistakes over and over and learn nothing at all. Our personalities tend to steer those ships, but whichever way the wind tends to blow us, mistakes and painful experiences are usually how we learn and grow the most.
Mama could tell me to leave the bad boys alone till the cows came home, but I wouldn’t learn my lesson until I got burned one too many times. We can read a headline in the news about something horrible that happened to someone we don’t know, and we can feel really sorry for them, but until that painful thing happens to us, we just don’t develop empathy in the same way. I’ve seen news clips of house fires in the news for years, but until I got the call that my daughter had to jump out of a second story window and be taken to the hospital by squad, I didn’t understand in the same way.
I used to be so overprotective. Like, SO overprotective. Some of my kids would say that I still am compared to other parents, but I’ve learned a valuable lesson myself. It’s okay for our kids to develop a healthy fear of things. I don’t want them
to feel like there is danger under every rock and be fearful to live life, but when they learn to conquer fears by messing up and trying again, it allows them to replace that fear with courage a little at a time.
It’s okay for them to fall down every once in a while, because a stronger character is grown within them when they are putting all the pieces together to get back up. It’s okay for our kids to see us make mistakes, too. It’s good for them to hear us say we were wrong and give a sincere apology sometimes.
A life without painful experiences would be a life without deep empathy. We just wouldn’t understand what others are going through. It would also make our kids completely unprepared for the real world. I want them to be able to make mistakes while they are under my roof so I can guide them with a loving hand that is just far enough away to give them room, but close enough for them to know I’m always there for them when they need me. What scares me is protecting them from everything when they are growing up and then having adults who have no idea how to navigate life. How would they deal with loss of someone they love as an adult if we shielded them from smaller losses as a child? It’s okay to flush a goldfish or bury a beloved dog. They are stretching their compassion and grief muscles so a larger loss later in life doesn’t push them completely over the edge. It’s a delicate balance of developing skin that is thick enough to withstand the heat, but not so thick that it doesn’t feel for others.
Sometimes, the best parenting decisions in theory are the toughest ones to put into action. But I’m also learning by making my own mistakes.
Have a blessed week, friends!
Denae Jones teaches middle school, and her writing has been in Chicken Soup for the Teacher’s Soul, and A Second Chicken Soup for the Woman’s Soul. She has authored the devotional journal Love, Joy, Peace, and co-authored Everyday Grace for Teens, and Everyday Grace for Mothers with Jennifer Geralds. Her most recent novel, But, Even Now is co-authored.
