My Second Prayer

How easy is it for us as parents to burden our children with our broken dreams and missed opportunities? To try to relive our lives vicariously through our kids? To burden our children with the unyielding weight of our expectations?

I'm often afraid that my second prayer may do that to my three.

I pray that they'll be smart. 

I want them to love to learn and stretch and grow. To love books and thinking. To develop their talents to their full potential. I want to push them and challenge them. I want them to be out of the box thinkers, bold innovators, brave leaders, and so much more.

And yet, what if that's not what they are called to do? What if their gifts and talents are different than mine. As they probably will be. I know my Dad, who I respect enourmously, hoped I'd be a chess player, and I can't stand chess. So, I know that they will probably turn out very much unlike me.

So let me revise my second prayer.

I pray that they will take their God given talents and gifts and stretch them to their fullest potential, no matter what those gifts might be. I pray that they'll grow into unique and radically different people who are incredibly competent, serving God in many varied ways.

And that's why I don't want to send them to school.