Parenting — Forever a Toddler

There is a hilarious, unwritten law of nature that the moment someone becomes a parent, a permanent software glitch is installed in their brain. No matter how many degrees your children earn, how many houses they buy, or how many millions of air miles they log, part of your brain will always view them as the toddler who once tried to stuff a lego up their nose.

Consider the evidence. Your son flies twelve times a year. He navigates international layovers, negotiates corporate contracts, and manages entire teams. Yet, you still find yourself texting him, “Make sure you put your liquids in a plastic bag!” Your daughter is a grown woman capable of juggling, work, children, and a terrific job, but the moment she coughs over the phone, your parental instincts kick into high gear. You have to physically restrain yourself from booking a last-minute flight just to act as a highly overqualified, overbearing nurse.

If we look at it objectively, older parents telling adult children how to live is utterly ridiculous. They don’t need us to tell them to wear a coat; they have weather apps. They don’t need us to explain Uber; they invented it. But humans aren’t governed by objective logic; we are governed by love.

This brings us to why the biblical and spiritual references to the divine so frequently settle on the concept of a parent—specifically, a “Father” or a nurturing creator. Think about it: if God is an all-knowing, all-powerful entity, and humanity is… well, humanity, the relationship is bound to look a lot like a parent watching a stubborn adult child. We constantly think we know better. We make a mess of things and then look around wondering how it happened.

Yet, just like an earthly parent holding back the urge to pack their 35-year-old’s suitcase, the divine perspective is rooted in a patience that defies logic. The spiritual metaphor of God as a parent works so beautifully because it captures that exact blend of exasperation and infinite, unconditional devotion. It implies a Creator who looks down at us navigating our lives, sighs affectionately, and thinks, “I literally made the universe, but sure, go ahead and try it your way first.”

Ultimately, the boundary between being a parent and being a peer to your adult children is a blurry, funny line. But as long as the unsolicited advice is wrapped in love (and maybe a little chicken soup), it’s a ridiculousness worth celebrating.