Christian parenting isn’t all peaceful devotions - it’s more often about chaos, tears, and unexpected laughter - John Reynolds explains why making space for honest questions (and the odd prank) matters more than perfection
You know those parenting moments you have where you’re not sure whether to laugh or actually be quite cross? How it usually goes down in our house is I want to laugh…and then I look over at my wife and her face quite clearly tells me that I should be quite cross.
We had a moment like this recently when my 9 year old, Elijah, pranked his younger sister, Areli, in a way that, I’ll be honest, was probably tantamount to spiritual abuse.
like the wholesome and respectable christian family that we are…it was absolute chaos
We were at the Christian festival, Spring Harvest, last month and my kids were sharing a room - so naturally, like the wholesome and respectable christian family that we are…it was absolute chaos.
One evening my wife, Jade, and I were out leading one of the evening sessions while Jade’s parents had the kids for us. We got back at around 9:30pm to find they were still awake and very hyper. The kids I mean, not the in-laws. The in-laws were also awake, just a lot less hyper.
Not only were they still awake and hyper, but my daughter was in absolute of floods of tears. I looked around for clues that might point me to the cause of her distress and my eyes locked on my son who was avoiding eye contact by looking at the floor sheepishly, but also still smirking.
as parents, we don’t need to have every answer neatly packaged and ready to go
So I said, “oh my goodness, what’s the matter?!” And my daughter wailed, “daddy…Elijah…has…played…a…horrible…prank…on…m…m…m…me”. So I said, “Aww ok! Ok! Calm down! Calm down! Breath.” Because I can’t deal with her telling the whole story like that, I’d have been there all night.
When she had finally calmed down, she said to me, “Daddy, I was laying in my bed and I heard a voice and it just whispered ‘Areli!’ And I went ‘Shut up Elijah! I’m trying to sleep!’ And then daddy, Elijah rolled over to look at me, and he went ‘What?’ So I said to him, ‘You just said my name!’ And he said, ‘no I didn’t?’” Anyway, then I heard the voice again daddy! And this time it said, ‘Areli…it’s not your handsome brother Elijah…’” (That should have been her first clue)… ‘It is actually…the archangel Michael.’”
Now, obviously, I’m struggling here. I’m fighting hard with everything inside of me to suppress my laughter.
Half the time, I’m figuring it out as I speak
She continued, “And daddy, I was so excited! Because I thought an angel was talking to me and it was just STUPID, DUMB ELIJAH!”
Bless her! She thought she’d finally had some divine interaction with the heavenly realm, but in reality - it was just my donut of an eldest, doing angelic ventriloquism.
And in that moment, standing there between one child wiping tears and the other trying (and failing) not to laugh at his own brilliance, I realised something.
This is it.
More often than not, this is what Christian parenting looks like.
Not a perfectly timed family devotion where everyone is quietly nodding along and taking notes before I get the guitar out and we finish we a few rounds of Kumbaya. Not a profound, uninterrupted moment of spiritual clarity as heaven opens up, my 9 year old receives the gift of tongues and my 6 year old translates. But this. Questions, chaos, tears, misunderstandings…and the occasional fake archangel.
We can model what it looks like to listen, even when we’re not entirely sure what we’re listening for
Because the truth is, most of our children aren’t going to first “hear from God” in a dramatic, booming voice in the middle of the night (and if they do, we’ll probably still ask a few follow-up questions). More often than not, they’re going to learn to recognise God’s voice in the everyday moments - through scripture, through prayer, through wise words from others, and through that quiet nudge in their spirit that says, “this is my way, walk in it.”
And as parents, we don’t need to have every answer neatly packaged and ready to go. Half the time, I’m figuring it out as I speak. But what we can do is create space for those conversations. We can ask questions. We can be curious with them. We can model what it looks like to listen, even when we’re not entirely sure what we’re listening for.
Read more:
As Christian parents we need to stop carrying what isn’t ours to carry
Because one day, they won’t just be asking, “Was that really an angel?”
They’ll be asking, “Is God leading me here?” “Can I trust Him with this?” “Is He speaking to me now?”
And those questions won’t be answered because we got everything right…but because, in the middle of the madness, we made room for them to explore and for God to be part of the conversation.
Also, for the record - we did have a chat with Elijah about using his gifts and talents for good, not for impersonating members of the heavenly host.
Although, I’ll be honest…the boy’s got range.
