Lately, I’ve found myself sitting quietly with thoughts of my parents — not just who they were, but who they are still becoming, as am I. Time has a way of changing the lens through which we see those who raised us. The older I get, the more I realize how my relationship with them has shifted from dependence to understanding, from expectation to compassion.
And as I raise my own sons, I often ask myself: How can I become what I truly needed in a parent — even if those needs were never fully met?
It is both a reckoning and a redemption.
“Her children rise up and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praises her.”
— Proverbs 31:28
The Mother: Love in Human Form
Mothers are our first home — the heartbeat we learn to trust before our own. The bond between mother and daughter, in particular, shapes generations. It teaches daughters how to love themselves, and it teaches sons what love looks like in the hands of a woman.
No mother is perfect; she is, after all, only human. But her essence — when grounded in compassion, forgiveness, and truth — can mirror the divine. A mother’s words become the soil her children grow in. Her actions teach what is acceptable, what is sacred, and what love should feel like.
There is nothing self-serving about a mother’s love. She loves because it’s written into her being — not for gain, but for grace.
“There is no way to be a perfect mother, but a million ways to be a good one.”
— Jill Churchill
The Father: Strength with Tender Hands
Then there are fathers — the protectors, the steady ground beneath uncertain feet. A father’s influence, especially for sons, carries an unspoken weight. It is he who shows them how to become men who no longer need his hand but never forget his heart.
For daughters, the father is the first man who teaches her how she deserves to be treated. He is the mirror through which she learns the language of safety, respect, and love. His strength, when balanced with tenderness, becomes her earliest definition of what “safe” feels like.
It is not easy to live up to the name Father, for God Himself chose it as His title. Yet every earthly father holds the sacred invitation to reflect even a glimpse of that divine steadiness.
“The heart of a father is the masterpiece of nature.”
— Antoine François Prévost
The Forgotten Gift
Somewhere along the way, many of us have forgotten the sacredness of these roles. Parenthood has become a checklist rather than a calling. We rush through, we provide, we survive — but we forget the holiness of the example we are setting.
How will our children learn what love and support look like if we don’t show them?
How will they learn to give grace if they have never seen it modeled?
I admit — I fail daily. There are nights when I replay my words and wish I had been softer, moments when I wish I had paused long enough to listen more deeply. I grieve not only what I lacked as a child but also what I still struggle to offer as a mother.
And yet, I try again.
Because maybe the work of parenthood is not perfection, but persistence — to rise each morning and love them better than we did the day before.
“Behind every young child who believes in himself is a parent who believed first.”
— Matthew L. Jacobson
The Children: Becoming More
For those of us still walking the road of healing from imperfect parents, there is another truth to hold: we are called to grow beyond what we lacked. To honor the good, and to transform the pain into purpose.
We can choose to become the mothers and fathers — or simply the humans — we once needed. That is not betrayal; it is continuation. It is the holy work of becoming.
So may we forgive where we can, learn where we must, and rise where love once faltered. May we honor our parents’ humanity, even when it bruised ours.
Because in the end, the greatest legacy we can leave our children is not perfection —
but wholeness born from healing.
“We are not raising children; we are raising adults who will one day raise others. Let that thought make you gentler.”
— Unknown
Well-Stirred Reflection:
What are the traces of love, forgiveness, or strength you hope your children — or those you nurture — will remember most about how you loved them?
Well-Stirred & Wondering 
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