Tried teaching my kids English today. Blending sounds. Simple in theory… but not in practice 😅. An hour in, nothing was clicking. My patience started to slip. My voice got sharp, my frown deep. I just wanted them to “get it.” But it wasn’t working, and I couldn’t control the outcome. Then God reminded me: reading is a skill. Every skill takes time. My role isn’t to rush results—it’s to love patiently and trust His timing ⏳. The gospel reminds me that the patience I need with them is the patience He shows me daily ❤️. 👉 Read the full reflection on my blog.
The Struggle of Blending Sounds
I once spent an hour trying to teach my children English. Specifically, we were working on blending sounds together. On paper, it seems simple—take the sound of one letter, join it with another, and form a word. But in practice, it was far from simple.
When Patience Runs Thin
For my kids, it felt like trying to climb a steep wall. Blending sounds didn’t come naturally. They struggled to visualize how sounds interact with one another. And for me, as their father, it was hard to watch. Harder still, it tested me.
As the minutes went by, I felt my patience thinning. I could hear it in my tone, see it in my frown, and feel it in my rising frustration. I desperately wanted them to “get it.” But the more I pushed, the clearer it became—this was something I could not control.
A Gentle Reminder from God
That realization stung. I wanted progress. I wanted results. But I was face-to-face with the truth: reading is a skill, and every skill has a learning curve. Some children climb quickly, others slowly. And my role was not to force an outcome, but to walk with them through the process.
In that moment, God gently reminded me: parenting is not about efficiency. It is about patience, grace, and trust. Trust that He is at work in their growth, not me. Trust that His timing is perfect, even when mine feels urgent.
How should the Christian think about this?
— ✂️ CUT FOR SUBSTACK ✂️ —
Trusting God’s Timing in the Slow Moments
When I reflect on this small episode, I see how it mirrors our own spiritual journeys. We want instant maturity, immediate sanctification, quick victories over sin. But the Christian life is rarely that way. Growth is slow. It comes in stumbles and restarts, often with tears and frustrations.
And yet, God does not scowl at us when we don’t “get it.” He is patient. He walks with us. He reminds us that His Spirit is at work in ways we cannot see.
So as I teach my children, I am also being taught. Their slow blending of sounds points me to my own slow growth in grace. The same patience and empathy I long for them to receive is the patience and empathy my heavenly Father shows me daily.
Parenting exposes my weakness—but it also drives me back to Christ. And that is where both my children and I need to rest: not in my ability to teach perfectly, but in His ability to shepherd us faithfully.