The Kids Will Be Fine... I Think (Parenting Confessions from the Mission Field)

Have you ever had one of those brutally honest parenting moments where you pause, look at your kids, and think to yourself, “Lord, help me not kill this child today!”

Or perhaps it’s this one, “Father God, please help me with these children because I have no idea what I’m doing!” Maybe you’ve lost your temper, said something too sharp, or handed down some half-baked punishment, only to later mutter under your breath, “God, please don’t let this punishment ruin their life!”

Trust me, you’re not alone.

Our kids are slowly entering/leaving their pre-teen years, and over the years, my wife and I have asked ourselves those very questions more times than we can count. But it wasn’t until we began preparing to transition from the U.S. back to Nigeria that I really wrestled with the depth of those fears. That’s when my “what if” questions graduated from ordinary parenting doubts to full-blown midnight anxieties.

News headlines at the time were filled with horrifying stories; elementary schools in Jos attacked, children kidnapped for ransom, young girls assaulted or forced into captivity. The Bring Back Our Girls campaign was still fresh in everyone’s mind. If the news wasn’t enough, WhatsApp felt like a horror feed. Every week, another gruesome video from a village in Plateau state, another headline of violence. The intent was awareness and prayer, but the effect, at least on me, was sheer panic.

And then came the well-meaning voices of concern from friends and family:

• “Are you sure God has really called you?”

• “You know what’s happening in Jos, right? Your American kids will be targets!”

• “Why not leave them here in safety while you go? You’ll never forgive yourself if something happens to them.”

• “There aren’t good schools in Nigeria. They’ll fall behind. They’ll be confused. They’ll lose their friends.”

They meant well, but their words only deepened the fears already gnawing at me. By the time we were weeks away from moving, my emotions were raw. I’ll never forget one Sunday in church during worship. I broke down and had to sneak away to an empty Sunday school classroom where I sobbed uncontrollably, terrified of what I was about to lead my children into.

But then came the whisper that changed everything.

One night, while laying down my fears before God, I prayed, “Lord, what about my kids? What if I’m dragging them into something that will scar them forever?”

Into that silence, the Spirit of God impressed something so clear, so undeniable, that I’ve held on to it ever since:

“Segun, this calling is as much about them as it is about you. I am not only taking you and Dupe to Nigeria. I am calling your children too. I am shaping their destinies through this journey.”

That was it.

That was the moment the grip of fear broke. It didn’t mean I stopped worrying entirely, parenting and worry are old companions, but it did mean the panic no longer ruled me. From that day forward, whenever fear whispered its familiar lies, the Holy Spirit of God reminded me again and again:

The kids will be fine.

Parents MESSED Up in the Bible Too. Phew!

That whisper from God gave me peace, but it didn’t suddenly make me the World’s Greatest Parent. Far from it. I still stumble, still worry, still wonder if my mistakes will leave marks. But then I remember (thank God!), the Bible is full of parents who messed up way worse than me. Seriously, if Child Protective Services had been around in Genesis, half of those favorite Bible characters would’ve been in foster care.

Case in point: Joseph. If you’ve ever worried about messing your kids up, relax, his family makes our parenting struggles look like child’s play. To be clear, I am not referring to the sweet Sunday School version with the colorful coat and catchy songs you know, but the gritty family drama behind it. Think about it: Joseph grew up in one of the most dysfunctional homes imaginable.

• A father with deep wounds of his own:  Jacob was Isaac’s runner-up kid, his second favorite child. But remember, Isaac only had two sons! And let’s not forget, his father allowed him to be named, “Deceiver.” Nothing like growing up in a home where your father doesn’t think much of what you’ll become.

• A polygamous household where jealousy simmered constantly: Jacob married two sisters (already a bad idea), and the rest was straight chaos. Leah kept cranking out sons like it was a competition, Rachel was furious she couldn’t, so she tossed her servant into the ring. Not to be outdone, Leah threw her servant in too. It turned into a fertility arms race, basically “Survivor: Womb Edition.” If Netflix had been around, this would’ve been the highest-rated reality show in the ancient Near East.

• A dad who openly played favorites: Jacob didn’t even try to hide it. He whipped up a Gucci-level rainbow jacket for Joseph and let the other boys fend for themselves at Payless and Walmart. Way to go, Dad.

• And Joseph himself? A bit of a spoiled brat at first: Walking around in his designer coat, snitching on his brothers, and announcing his dreams like, “Hey guys, gather round, I dreamt you were all my servants.” Nothing says “stab me in a field” like the way Joseph initially acted around his brothers.

Yet, somehow, God worked through all of it, the mess, the favoritism, the father wounds, the betrayal, to raise up a man who would save his family and an entire nation. Joseph didn’t rise to greatness because his parents got it right. He rose because God’s hand was on his life.

That’s the good news for parents like us. Even when we don’t get it right, and we often don’t, God is more faithful to our kids than we are. His purposes aren’t hindered by your stumbles. So, the next time you feel the crushing weight of not being a “perfect parent” (whatever that even means), take a deep breath. The kids will be fine.

Walking with Them, Not Just Talking at Them

Now, this doesn’t mean we fold our arms and leave it all to providence. Parenting is still discipleship, and discipleship is always caught more than taught. Please read that again if it didn’t sink in.

Your kids will imitate what they see in you far more consistently than what they hear from you. The truth is, much of the behavior we correct or scold them for often mirrors things we ourselves have done, or might still be doing in secret. Every phone call you think they’re not listening to, every offhand joke you make, every show you binge or video you scroll, the way you treat people you consider “beneath you,” and the way you act around those you see as more accomplished, all of it is under their watchful eye. Our kids are note-takers of our lives, and they’re learning what we truly value, not just what we preach.

If that realization makes you feel a little panicky, take a breath. Don’t sweat it. God’s grace really does cover our imperfections. And there are ways to turn things around, even if you feel like you’ve already blown it. Here are a five lessons I’ve been learning (often the hard way):

1. Walk with them

Don’t just preach your values, live them. Kids have finely tuned hypocrisy detectors. They may not always call it out, but they know when we’re bluffing.

• With little kids: Let them see you pray when you’re worried. Let them watch you apologize when you’re wrong. Let them notice you holding the door for a stranger, or speaking kindly to the cashier when the line is long. These tiny moments become their reference points for what “normal” looks like.

• With older kids/young adults: They’ll notice how you handle money, stress, and criticism. Invite them into real-life decisions: “Hey, I’m tempted to exaggerate this or lie about that, but here’s why I won’t.” When they see you wrestle with honesty in the gray areas, you’re teaching them more than any lecture could.

2. Do life alongside them

Model it, then practice it with them, and finally give them room to try it themselves. Discipleship isn’t a classroom, it’s an apprenticeship.

• With little kids: Cook a meal with them instead of shooing them out of the kitchen. Pray with them at night instead of just for them. Let them hand the money to the street vendor, or give the offering in church. It’s messy, but it teaches.

• With older kids/young adults: Don’t just give them lectures about budgeting, invite them to sit with you while you pay bills. Don’t just talk about serving, go with them to volunteer. And then, slowly, back up, let them lead the prayer at family dinner, or decide how to give away part of the family’s tithe.

3. Pray for them

Daily, desperately, sometimes tearfully. Prayer is not a backup plan, it’s the primary plan.

• With little kids: Pray aloud with them about their fears (the dark, a test at school, making friends). Show them that God cares about even the “small” things. And let them hear you thank God for them by name. That sticks.

• With older kids/young adults: Pray with them, not just about them. Ask, “What can I pray for today?” Then actually do it, right there. And when they wander (because they will), don’t stop. Some of the strongest testimonies I’ve heard begin with, “My mom never stopped praying for me…”

4. Discipline them

With love, consistency, and grace. Discipline without love breeds resentment. Love without discipline breeds entitlement. Grace holds the two together.

• With little kids: Boundaries are a gift to your children (though they’ll disagree). Calmly explain why hitting isn’t okay. Give time-outs or take away privileges but always circle back to affirm: “You are loved, even when you mess up.”

• With older kids/young adults: Discipline looks more like accountability. Set expectations for respect, honesty, and responsibility. If they blow it, don’t just punish, rather also help them process what went wrong and what restoration looks like. And yes, sometimes discipline is letting them feel the real-world consequences while still being their safe place.

5. Trust them

Even when it’s scary, trust that God is shaping them in ways you cannot. This one is hard, especially when their choices make your knees tremble. But trust is the soil where confidence grows.

• With little kids: Give them small responsibilities, helping pack their own lunch, greeting visitors at the door, choosing their outfit (even if it’s socks with sandals). Trust says, “I believe you can.”

• With older kids/young adults: Trust looks like handing them the keys (literally and figuratively). Let them manage some money, go on that trip, or choose their own friends. Will they mess up? Of course. But God is still writing their story. And your role shifts from control to coaching.

Hope for Parents

So, dads and moms, if you’ve ever felt like you’re not doing enough, or that the decisions you’ve made might set your children back, remember Joseph. Remember Mary and Joseph raising Jesus in occupied, violent, oppressive Rome. Remember that God is more committed to your children’s future than you are.

He is writing their story with His own pen.

Yes, keep walking with them. Keep praying over them. Keep loving, correcting, and trusting. But when the doubts creep in at night, rest in this truth: the God who chose you as their parent will not abandon them.

The kids will be fine.

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