Emmaās Chinese class was starting in 5 mins. š Instead of logging in, she broke into sobs. Nothing worked. Hugs. Talks. Waiting. By 8:20 the teacher was still in Zoom. I finally cancelled. Inside, I was boiling. š¢ Money wasted. Lesson missed. What if she learns to cry her way out of class? I almost snapped, ready to lecture on responsibility. But God pulled me back. āļø I knelt down and told her my love isnāt tied to Chinese, piano, or anything she doesājust like Jesusā love for us. We prayed and rested in His grace. Parentingās hard. But His love steadies me. š Read the full story on my blog
We had enrolled Emma in a short online Chinese lesson each week. These 25-minute sessions were designed to give her focused time for Chinese conversation and playful learning, since our home is mostly English-speaking.
On one evening, however, things unfolded differently. Just before class time, Emma suddenly broke down in tears. Nothing I triedāgentle words, hugs, distractionsācould help her settle. My frustration grew as the minutes ticked by. I wasnāt thinking first about her heart; I was thinking about the class fee and the possibility that she might learn she could cry her way out of commitments.
By 8:20 the patient teacher was still waiting in the Zoom room, but Emma was still sobbing. I finally decided to cancel the lesson.
Love Over Performance
That decision opened an unexpected door. Sitting beside Emma, I asked, āDo you think Daddy loves you more, or your Chinese class more?ā I wanted her to know my love doesnāt depend on how well she speaks Chineseāor how she performs in piano, soccer, or anything else. My love is simply because she is my daughter.
We prayed together, and I reminded her of Jesusā love for usālove that isnāt earned by performance but freely given. In that quiet moment, a cancelled class became a deeper lesson about grace.
Guiding Responsibility Without Shame
Yet parenting isnāt only about comfort. I also explained that part of growing up is learning to carry responsibility even when feelings run high. Someday in school or at work, she will face moments where she must pause strong emotions to fulfill a task.
This was the delicate balance: helping her name and process big emotions without shaming her, while gently pointing her toward responsibility.
How should the Christian think about this?
ā āļø CUT FOR SUBSTACK āļø ā
Loving Presence in Hard Moments
Looking back, the harder lesson was for me. I had to fight the urge to say, āStop cryingāwe paid for this!ā and instead slow down. Parenting often means holding two truths at once:
Our children need safety to express hard feelings.
They also need guidance toward maturity and responsibility.
That night showed me that love is not permissiveness. Canceling the class was not giving in; it was a chance to remind Emma she is loved apart from performance. It was also a way to model how Jesus meets usāpatiently, without shaming us when we canāt hold it together.
Iām thankful for how God used an ordinary evening to expose my own impatience and to redirect both of us toward His grace. Sometimes the most valuable lessons donāt happen in a classroom at all.