Honest Parents, Confident Kids

A guest post from Zach + Amy Lambert of Public Theology

Feb 18, 2025

This week Amy and Zach Lambert—co-creators of the Public Theology Substack—and I are swapping newsletters! Public Theology is for those who identify as Christian, as well as those who might be interested in learning about a more inclusive, kind, thoughtful Christianity.

We’re each sharing some of how we’re processing this year of our Lord 2025 with our kids. You’ll find my essay there—The Conversations I’m Having With My Kids About Trump. It’s part 3/3 and my favorite one, and it’s free to read.

We speak very openly with our kids.

We’ve had many people in our lives wrinkle their noses, express surprise, and ask outright why we interact with our kids in this way.

We made the choice early on in our parenting– and it was reinforced by becoming foster parents when our oldest son was two– that we would do our best to have honest, age-appropriate conversations with our kids.

Our reasoning? We would rather they ask us than someone else. If we can build trust and capacity with our kids when they’re in elementary school, not shying away from their hard questions, hopefully they will continue to trust us as they age.

“Listen earnestly to anything [your children] want to tell you, no matter what. If you don't listen eagerly to the little stuff when they are little, they won't tell you the big stuff when they are big, because to them all of it has always been big stuff.”
Catherine M. Wallace

This commitment has felt a bit heavier over the past few months.

Some examples of questions our kids, now six and ten, have asked over the years:

What’s that poster (in the middle school where our church meets) about? Why does that girl look sad? She has an eating disorder. What’s that?
Why does my friend hate LeBron James? Because his parents don’t like how LeBron uses his voice to call out racism. Why would they be against that?
Why did this foster brother come live with us? Then leave? Where is he now? Is he okay?
Why wouldn’t we want Donald Trump to Make America Great Again?

While this approach may seem odd to some, it’s the way it’s always been here. We both grew up in Southern Baptist churches in Texas, and we both had a lot of questions throughout our upbringings that weren’t answered, either because we were too afraid to ask them or the adults around us were too afraid to answer. As we grew up and gained courage, we were shamed for doubting, for wondering, and for speaking up.

As adults, we now understand that we were expected to toe the party line, something we have become increasingly frustrated by as we’ve seen the damage done to those who have done so. When we finally decided that we no longer wanted to be in the party, things got clearer: obedience was the only thing that mattered. As long as we trusted the adults in our churches (who turned out to be untrustworthy), things would work out for us.

We all know how that went. We are an entire generation of former youth group kids who feel lied to and rejected for adhering to the principles we were taught within the churches of our adolescence, the things we were taught were integral to our obedience. Somewhere along the way, the adults we trusted traded their worship of Christ for worship of country (and a specific version of it, at that).

If we want our kids to learn critical thinking skills, to see the motivations of those in leadership, to make their own assessments and judgments through processing what they see with a trusted, loving adult, then we have to welcome these conversations, even those that make us uncomfortable. The reality is that we must be actively engaged with our kids or they are going to turn elsewhere– most likely the internet– for answers.

So how do we do this?

1. Stay informed but not overstimulated.

Are your kids watching you doom scroll into depression and despair? Is the news on an endless loop in your home (or your phone screen)? They are watching us every single second. If we are glued to our phones, they will learn to be glued to their devices. If we ride the emotional wave of every executive order and chaotic tweet, it will be much harder for them to learn how to interact with the news in a healthy, tethered way.

2. Be attentive and age appropriate.

Listen to your kids and monitor the information they’re ingesting (to the best of your ability). Are you having conversations about adult-level concerns in front of them? Ask what they’re hearing at school and what they think about it. Give them your time and full attention as you help them process through the information they’re receiving. Listen more than you talk.

3. Model compassion.

For yourself. For others. Show your kids what caring for others looks like: maybe ask a neighbor to dinner or volunteer with your family at a food distribution site. Model good boundaries with those whom you disagree. Check on those who are most vulnerable. Give your kids extra grace and patience as they navigate big, often scary emotions, as that process can often look like bad attitudes and tantrums. Apologize for your bad attitudes and tantrums.

4. Seek support.

Find a faith community who values the things you value. Search here for a list of Jesus centered, justice focused, and fully inclusive churches by region. Or find an online community like Intention Church led by Trey Ferguson, or Pomona Valley Church, led by Meredith and her husband Curtis, or our church, Restore Austin.
Utilize Substack and other mediums to maintain hope. There are so many people (like Meredith!) who are seeking to put their faith into action by serving those around them.
Support yourself with friends who understand the challenges you’re facing. This may mean forging new friendships and/or entering new spaces to meet like-minded folks.
Go to therapy (or back to therapy) if you need it.
Prioritize the things in life that keep you sane and well.

5. Remember that our faith is in the person and work of Jesus, not a political system.

The Bible instructs us to fear not, to remember in whom our faith is placed, and to stand firm in the midst of struggle. The ideals we hold matter because people– those made in the image of God– are at risk, not because our politics will save us.

I wonder if our openness with our kids, and our honesty about the things we don’t know, has given them a firmer surety of God’s ability to handle their doubts, questions, and frustration.

Where we were told that God’s sovereignty demanded our full acceptance of how things were, our kids see a God who can hold their uncertainty.

Where our questions were quashed or, worse, used to shame us into submission, our kids feel free to express doubt and lack of understanding.

Where we were taught that our worth was defined by how well we obeyed, our kids know that God loves them deeply just as they are– as he designed them to be– and that is reason to consider reorienting their lives around that love.

We pray the grief that so many of us are feeling now, as we work through the reconciliation of what we were taught as kids with what we now know to be true as adults, will not hit our kids in the way that has taken so many of us under the waves.

We pray that they won’t have to fight as hard as we have to swim to shore and see God as primarily good.

We pray that they will not equate their loyalty (or lack thereof) to a religious leader, a political party, or an end times theology with their ability to believe in an all-knowing, all-loving God.

We pray that we, as a generation of parents, will, in word and deed, show our children the unending love of a God who cares for the poor, stands with the marginalized, and values those who have nothing material to offer us.