I took our 10-year old daughter to Holiday World on Friday. We spent the first couple hours in the water park, riding some cool water coasters until that section closed and we headed to the dry side, ready to hit some roller coasters. 

But first we had to change. 

They have family changing rooms, and we waited an eternity in line, so long that another mom and I were wondering what was taking so long. 

And then, finally, the door opened and i immediately understood. A mom and dad and four kids, all probably 5 and under. You could see the exhaustion on the parents’ faces. The mom marched off. The dad was weary but patient, and as we walked into the cramped, hot, dirty, space, where it must have been a wrestling match to change four kids - and parents! - from wet swimsuits to dry clothes, I heard him say as all four kids tried to climb into their wagon for the long concrete trek out of the park, “James has priority because he doesn’t have any shoes.”

That’s it, right there. That’s parenting in one sentence. 

You’re constantly triaging, calculating which kid has the greatest need at that point in time, what you have to do to meet that need, how it’s going to affect everyone else, how fast you have to react, how much they need to learn in this moment - or do they just need to be kept safe or do they need a hug or maybe a snack. 

As they get older, the stakes only get higher, the calculations more intense. They can change their own clothes, but they’re figuring out friends and relationships and jobs and phones and cars and college and how to pay for stuff and what it looks like to walk with Jesus and marriage and careers and so much more. 

From cradle on, it’s exhilarating and exhausting and I’ve never needed Jesus more.

And that’s the promise, isn’t it? That no matter how many kids you have and no matter how they came to be in your family and no matter what you have to guide them through and no matter how inadequate you feel - he is with you and he will always be with you. 

Even in the cramped changing room. Even in the principal’s office. Even in the attitude. Even in the heartbreak. Even in the what-ifs. Even in the valley of the shadow of death. 

We don’t have to fear a thing. When we hold their little faces in our hands, when we drop them off at college, when we walk them down the aisle - the God of Ages, who knows what’s it’s like to be a Father, is right there with us. 

Whether your kids are wearing shoes or not.

Grace and peace to you in the week ahead.