As parents, we’re tasked with nurturing and guiding our children—even as we navigate our own wonderings about faith. In the overwhelm and constant demands of life, is it possible to tend to both our own souls and our family’s flourishing? Kayla Craig believes so. With tender curiosity and contemplative wisdom, Kayla invites us parents to grow spiritually alongside our children. Blending thoughtful musings and practical resources, Kayla meets us parents right where we are, exploring how we connect with one another—and to One who holds in all—in the many changing seasons of our lives. It’s a grace to welcome Kayla to the farm’s table today…
Adapted from Kayla’s book, “Every Season Sacred”
The first time I drop him off at preschool, I peek inside his classroom from a picture window in the hall. He’s sheepish as he makes his way to the blocks. He looks around and catches my eye.
I blink back tears and, unsure what to do, give him a thumbs-up.
Dimples appear on his round face as he flashes a grin, confidence filling his steps as he collects an armful of primary-colored blocks from the bin and begins to play with a little girl in pigtails.
A few years later, at the end-of-the-year elementary concert, he scans the crowd. He takes his place onstage and spots me. I give him a thumbs-up, a reminder that I’m here. I see his shoulders loosen, and he shares that same dimpled smile. Years inch forward, and his cheeks get less round, but the wordless check-ins still happen—on the ball field, at the arcade for a friend’s birthday party, at the school science night.
My silly thumbs-up gesture whispers, I’m here. I see you. I believe in you. You’re doing great.
He is now in a new season of life: middle school. Through his ages and stages, we continue to share tiny moments (more discreetly now) from afar.
Our check-ins may adapt and evolve, but the intentional connection points still punctuate our days. They’re threads connecting us, parent to child, child to parent. All kids need connection points with safe, loving people. As parents, it’s our honor, privilege, and joy to be that for our families.
One of my sons prefers sending me ridiculous emojis and funny messages from his tablet. I see you. Another’s hand finds mine as the sky turns to dusk and we put away the last of the dinner dishes. I believe in you. My daughter, who is disabled and doesn’t speak, brings her hand to my cheek. You’re doing great.
“These tiny moments of seeing and being seen are the ties that bind us together.”
These tiny moments of seeing and being seen are the ties that bind us together.
As parents, we often feel pressure to perform on the big occasions and milestones, with lavish holiday celebrations or picture-perfect vacations.
But relationship is sewn together in the tiny moments: the wave at the school pickup line, the unexpected hug in the kitchen, the nod before leaving with friends.
Just as we make space for these moments with our children in the bits and pieces of our real life, God makes space for us.
This is prayer: check-ins from child to Parent, connecting in the comings and goings of our lives.
It’s easy to overcomplicate prayer.
“As a child checks in with a parent, I offer my messy, imperfect, slightly chaotic life to the One who knows my name.”
We often assume that prayer has to be done in large blocks of uninterrupted time, with just the right words, surrounded by candles and a Pinterest-worthy setting. But for most of us, especially during the busy years of parenting, the truth is that our prayers may often be small offerings given and received throughout the day.
As a child checks in with a parent, I offer my messy, imperfect, slightly chaotic life to the One who knows my name. This usually takes the form of silent, short prayers.
In the morning, as I reach for my glasses (and before I reach for my phone): This is the day the Lord has made; I will rejoice and be glad in it.
In the afternoon, as I pick up discarded gym socks and run the washing machine: God, be with me as I work.
As I fill the gas tank with climbing prices: Thank You for this privilege. Help me to share what I have.
As I end up in the long line (again) at the grocery store: Give me eyes to see You in the people around me.
As I check my inbox and realize I missed a work deadline: Jesus, help me remember I’m more than what I do.
As I doomscroll while sitting in the waiting room; as I laugh; as I cry: Be near.
Our short, straightforward offerings amid our ordinary lives are check-ins with the One who calls us beloved children.
Our seemingly simple check-in prayers fit the contours of our lives.
What a grace that God cares about the tiny parts of our days because God cares about the tiny parts that make up us. And what a grace that God not only hears but listens.
Just as you ache for your children to be able to bring their deepest aches to you, God wants to hear your concerns. God cares for you like a compassionate, caring parent who longs to lavish the deepest affection on their children.
What a grace that God cares about the tiny parts of our days because God cares about the tiny parts that make up us.
In 1 Peter 5:7, we’re reminded that no worry or anxiety is too small (or too big) to share with the One who keeps careful watch over us. As we check in with those we love, we secure our bonds and tighten our attachments.
A friend is over when my phone buzzes.
“Grab it!” she says, refilling our kids’ bowl of popcorn.
“Hey, Dad,” I say, cradling the phone on my shoulder. I pull open the sliding door to the deck, and we chat for a few minutes, catching up on work drama and family news.
I watch the first autumn leaves fall from their branches in the backyard.
Then I hear a child scream.
My dad hears it, too, and laughs. I smile and tell him I’d better go, breathing in the fresh early fall air before sliding back inside.
“Is everything okay?” my friend asks.
“What?” I ask, popping a few kernels of the kids’ afternoon snack into my mouth. “Oh, yeah, he just called to talk.”
“Does he do that a lot?” she says.
“I guess so, yeah.” I chuckle with a mouthful of popcorn.
“Wow,” she responds. “He calls like that? Just to check in? That’s pretty special. He must love you a lot.”
Maybe we never grow out of needing those check-ins.
I see you. I believe in you. You’re doing great.
O God of connection, we thank You for Your deep care. Forgive us for the ways we’ve gotten distracted and forgotten to check in with those we love—and with You, Lord. Thank You for hearing us even in our silence. Help us to communicate love and compassion to all who cross our path. Amen.
And He’s committed to leading you every step of the way until you’re safely home.
Kayla Craig’s new book Every Season Sacred is a beautiful (and highly giftable) weekly invitation for parents to ask big questions, embrace faithful rhythms, and experience God’s mysterious, loving presence together.
Every Season Sacred: Reflections, Prayers, and Invitations to Nourish Your Soul and Nurture Your Family throughout the Year includes honest & hopeful devotions for every season of the parenting journey, open-ended discussion prompts, and prayers to explore and practice as a family.
Kayla is a former journalist who brings deep curiosity and care to her writing. She created the popular Liturgies for Parents Instagram account, which Christianity Today named an “essential parenting resource.” She’s the author of To Light Their Way and also hosts the weekly Liturgies for Parents podcast. Kayla lives in a 115-year-old former convent in her Iowa hometown, where she hopes to create spaces of welcome alongside her four children, two dogs, and husband, Jonny.
[ Our humble thanks to Tyndale for their humble partnership in today’s devotional. ]
