A Plea to Parents by Joshua Harris

Aaron, age 15, came forward at one of our conferences to rededicate his life to Jesus. He was a home schooler in a Christian family. He helped edit the home-school newsletter. He was also struggling with homosexuality. Aaron (not his real name) e-mailed me a week later and shared his story. He had trouble believing that God could forgive him for the things he'd done. He was afraid that he would sin again — terrified that he could never really change.

I offered him encouragement. I prayed for him and listened to him. What struck me most about his story was how blind his parents were to the situation. He told me how his father would sit at the dinner table talking about those "sick, disgusting homos." The hatred in his father's voice frightened Aaron. "I could never talk to him about this," he said. "Never."

Aaron's story is an extreme example of a problem that visits many Christian homes: the notion that sin and "big problems" ranging from premarital sex to drugs or, in Aaron's case, homosexuality, only happen to other people's families — other people's kids. This mentality is the result of pride and, in many cases, what the Bible calls "the fear of man." We want other people, other Christians, to believe we have it all together. One company's ad line, "Image is everything," aptly describes the infatuation of some families. We're so determined to maintain an image before man, that we become unwilling to deal with the sin that grieves God. The message communicated to teens is a sort of unspoken "law of family" that says, "We don't talk about problems, we don't allow you to voice your doubts or disillusions because we are a perfect Christian family. Got that?"

I remember meeting a mom and her daughter after speaking at a home-school convention. I had given a talk on romantic relationships. The mother was thanking me for the things I'd said. "We're living out courtship in our   family," she said proudly.

"So things are going smoothly in the guy department?" I asked, addressing the question to both the mom and her 16-year-old daughter standing next to her.

They both responded simultaneously, but with different answers. The daughter said "No!" very bitterly, the mother answered "Yes!" emphatically. The mom glared at her dissenting daughter who looked down at the ground. "Things are going very well," the mother said slowly and firmly. "Very well.”

I stood there feeling very awkward. The mother wanted me to be impressed with her family. She feared my opinion. I would have been more impressed if she could have admitted there were problems and that they were seeking God's help. But she didn't. Things were going "very well" in her estimation — as if she could somehow pretend away her daughter's struggles by speaking slowly and authoritatively.

Five minutes later the daughter walked up to me again, this time by herself. She glanced around nervously to make sure no one would hear. "I need to tell you what's really going on," she said. For the next ten minutes we stood in the middle of the exhibit hall, and I listened as she told me how she worried about being an old maid (a ridiculous concern for any sixteen-year old, but a real fear for her nonetheless), and her struggle with her parents' demand that she not date. She was seeing a guy behind their back. "That's not good," I told her. "He's also a Mormon," she said. "That's really not good," I said. At the end of our conversation she knew that she needed to end the relationship. I hope she has acted on this conviction. Did I offer brilliant counsel or some incredible argument? Not really. I just listened to her struggles, didn't act amazed that she had them, and finally confronted her with what I knew the Bible had to say about her situation.

I don't write these things to act as if I understand parenting. I'm not pretending to be in a position to instruct moms and dads in this tremendous responsibility. But I want to plead with you, as someone who has seen the chasm that can exist between parents' perception of their teens and reality, not to allow the fear of man to keep you from hearing your kids out. When you think about the spiritual state of your teen, are you more concerned with what your friends at church or the home-school support group will think of your parenting abilities than you are your teenager's well-being and position before God? I pray not.

I humbly encourage you to seek opportunities to hear what your teens are really thinking, not just what you want them to think. Don't cut them off. Don't argue their problem away immediately. Of course they're often foolish. Of course they need your leadership and discipline. But they also need a spirit of mercy from a fellow sinner saved by grace who wants them to be right before God, not merely "looking right" before man.

"Fear of man will prove to be a snare," say Prov. 29:25. In John 12:42-43 we read of people in Jesus' day who were unwilling to publicly confess Him before others. Why? Because "they loved praise from men more than praise from God."

Do you love praise from men that says, "Oh, your kids are so well-behaved. They're such examples," more than you love the praise of God, the one who sees their hearts? If your motivation is the adulation of man, image will become more important than reality. Don't let it happen.

This year at a New Attitude conference I gave an altar call, and a mom and her thirteen-year-old son came forward. "How can I pray for you?" I asked the boy. He didn't answer at first. His mom patted him on the back and said, "It's okay. Go ahead and tell him." The boy went on to tell me he'd been stealing baseball cards from a local store. He had just confessed it to his mom and now wanted God's forgiveness. The three of us held hands and prayed. I'll never forget seeing the boy and his mom hugging each other afterwards. I don't know much about parenting, but I believe that moment captured the heart of a Christian mother or father's responsibility. Your job isn't to raise perfect children who never make mistakes. Instead, it's to walk with them to the Throne of Grace. Your job isn't to gloss over or pretend away your child's indwelling sin. Instead, it's to humbly point them to the only real solution available: the salvation offered by a crucified, risen Savior.