Our Children's Journey

I think I am not alone in this - parents want their children to have better lives than they themselves did. We want them to enjoy the happy moments we ourselves did and spare them from the sadness we experienced. It is as if we try to make their lives magically perfect with all of the good things and none of the bad.

I remember a conversation with one of my sisters in London. She was anxious about her son's decision to leave his current job in London to move back to KL because she was not sure that his job prospects would be good, given the state of the economy. Struggling through her university and working to pay her fees has left an indelible impression on my sister and now much of the way she views life is affected by the spectre of financial security. This is a big concern for her and at every life stage she focuses first on ensuring her children are provided for. For me, it is the spectre of emotional security. Having struggled with a low self esteem and a difficult marriage, I want to protect my children from the pain of rejection or betrayal. The experience is a similar one for my sister and me - having walked the path of experience, we want to tell our children what to watch out for.... Beware that rock, don't stumble over it; beware that slippery patch; don't take that turn because you will get lost; come this way because I walked this way and my journey was a pleasant one; and do climb that hill I didn't get a chance to, because I hear the view is fabulous and I missed it .......

We all do this I think. We want our children to replicate our school experiences or university experiences; we want our children to travel to places we have seen or not had a chance to see; we have in our minds the kind of spouse he or she needs; we imagine their careers. The urge to advise is there and I admit I do this every opportunity I get. Sometimes we try to manipulate the situation by getting someone else to tell them as we think they would be more receptive if it came from a non-parental source.

Yet, when it comes to the crux, I realise these choices are my children's to make, not mine. The decisions are theirs. The triumphs are theirs. So too the mistakes. But failures teach valuable lessons and protecting my children too much by orchestrating every stage of their life journey is not going to guarantee a happy life. So I have learnt - to speak my mind, explain my reasons and then to drop it; to warn only when the danger seems great; to keep quiet until my advice is asked; and to cover my precious daughters in prayer, the mightiest weapon of all.

Our children must walk their own journeys, but I believe it is our God-given duty to give them sign-posts and to point them in the right way. First they will walk with their hands in ours, then they will let go and run a little, frequently turning back to see if we are still there. Then they will stride off on their own occasionally turning back, to see if we are keeping up. Much as we would like to, my sister and I cannot and must not hold their hands for too long or insist on the paths they should take. Because God has a road map for each one of them and He will guide them, pulling them out of ditches they fall into, keeping their feet on His chosen path, gently turning them back when they wander down wrong ones, and guiding them to mountain tops - for views not intended for our eyes but theirs.