A View From A Pew: Let Them Find Their Own Path

There comes a moment in every parent’s journey when we must face a hard truth: our children do not belong to us. They are gifts from God, entrusted to us for a season, but they are not extensions of our unfulfilled dreams. They are not vessels for us to pour our regrets into. They are not projects to be perfected. They are souls created in the image of God, with their own callings, their own gifts, and their own destiny.

Allowing a child to find their own path is one of the greatest acts of love—and one of the hardest acts of faith. It means loosening our grip, even when fear tells us to hold tighter. It means trusting that the same God who brought them into this world has already planted in them everything they need to become who they are meant to be. Proverbs 22:6 reminds us, “Train up a child in the way he should go, and when he is old, he will not depart from it.” Notice it doesn’t say the way we want them to go—it says the way he should go. The way God has designed uniquely for them.

But many of us struggle with that. Out of love—and sometimes out of pride—we become helicopter parents. We hover. We micromanage. We try to bubble-wrap their every move. We rush to rescue them before they can stumble. We pour ourselves into making sure they never taste failure, never feel disappointment, never experience risk. And while our intentions may be pure, the outcome can be crippling.

Children who are smothered in overprotection often grow up without the skills to manage real life. They may lack independence, problem-solving ability, and the courage to try again after falling short. Instead of learning resilience, they inherit fear. Instead of growing in confidence, they shrink in anxiety. Instead of soaring on wings like eagles, they remain caged, afraid to fly.

I’ve seen this especially in the world of youth sports. What should be a source of joy, discipline, teamwork, and friendship too often becomes a pressure cooker. Parents scream from the sidelines as though the outcome of the game will determine the outcome of eternity. Children run the bases, shoot the baskets, or sprint the track not for the love of the game but for the approval of the bleachers.

And here’s the danger: when a child feels their worth depends on performance, love begins to feel conditional. Mistakes become personal failures. Losing a game becomes losing a piece of their identity. Over time, this leads to resentment, low self-esteem, and in some cases, a complete loss of passion for the sport—or for life itself.

The costs are steep:

• Mental Health Struggles. Unrealistic expectations can leave scars of anxiety, fear of failure, and depression.
• Low Self-Worth. Children begin to believe they are never “enough.”
• Broken Relationships. What was once love becomes conditional approval. Bitterness grows where trust should have been.
• Physical Harm. Kids push through injuries, desperate not to disappoint.

But friends, there is another way. A higher way.

Parents can foster a healthy environment by remembering that effort is more important than outcome. Praise their hard work, not just their victories. Emphasize joy. If your child isn’t smiling, laughing, or growing, then the sport has lost its purpose. Set expectations in balance. A child’s worth is not in trophies but in truth, not in medals but in morals, not in championships but in character.

And perhaps most importantly, stay in your lane. Be a parent, not a coach. Be the encourager, not the drill sergeant. Let the coaches coach, let the referees referee, and let your child simply play.

Even in the age of social media, we must guard their hearts. A highlight reel posted online can quickly become a measuring stick that crushes them when they don’t perform as well next time. Every child deserves the freedom to succeed quietly, to stumble safely, and to grow steadily without their mistakes being broadcast to the world.

So, let me say it plainly: your child is not your second chance. They are not here to relive your high school glory days, to achieve the scholarship you missed, or to fulfill the dream you set aside. They are here to live the life God purposed for them. Our job is not to force the path but to walk beside them as they discover it.

Yes, it’s a fine line. Guidance without control. Support without suffocation. Love without conditions.

But oh, what a gift it is when we get it right! When a child grows up knowing they are loved not for their stats but for their spirit, not for their victories but for their values—that child grows into an adult who knows how to face life with courage, humility, and grace.

So I’ll leave you with this thought: what good is it if your child gains the whole world of trophies, titles, and applause, but loses their joy, their peace, and their sense of self?

Parents, let them find their own path. Trust God with the outcome. And remember—the greatest win in life is not raising champions, but raising children who know they are cherished, confident, and free to be exactly who God created them to be.