During the last set of school holidays I had several opportunities where risk taking and I bumped heads. Interestingly the risk taking was as much on my behalf as that of my children.

In one instance we booked our daughter into a five night camp she had never been on before. If all went well, the camp had the potential to be a huge blessing for her. I took several weeks to think it all through and weigh up the risks; both for her and for me as the parent whose idea this camp was. In the end we decided it was worth the risk, paid the money and dropped her off.

Another instance occurred while she was away. I took my other two children to a local park to eat lunch. But I’d forgotten about the super steep hill – and forgotten about the cardboard boxes left waiting for grass sliders to ride. As my older son whooped in delight at the prospect of flying down the hill on a cardboard sled, my much younger one caught the contagious enthusiasm and ran forward to have a try. I immediately found myself hesitating and calculating the risks. What if my youngest fell? What if he crashed and broke his arm, or worse?

Two instances of risk taking – both for the children involved and the parent weighing up the wisdom of each situation.

These days it feels all too easy to want to wrap our children in cotton-wool. When we keep them close and limit potentially difficult or dangerous situations we feel in control. We feel as though ‘badness’ is prevented from touching our kids. This protective instinct is natural as part of our God given parental responsibility, but it seems as if our western culture has encouraged that instinct to move past protection and into over-protection. On one hand, it’s easy to do – in foolproof safe situations parents can relax and drink coffee instead of being hands on guiding little bodies how to play safe, or mentoring teens to do likewise. But the cost of this over-protection may be a generation of adults who cannot weigh up risks, have difficulties making wise decisions and are far less adaptable, creative and resilient under pressure. And that’s a risk we cannot be willing to take.

My daughter had a ball at the camp she attended and made lots of new friends, even though she felt incredibly nervous going. She came back tired, but stronger in herself. My four year old flew down that hill after his older brother and yes, he did have a fall. But after a cry and a cuddle gave it another go. And another and another – learning with each adventure just what his body could handle. These were lessons that wouldn’t have been learned if I had kept these precious children safely wrapped in the cotton wool of my ‘protection’.

Taking risks is something our kids will have to do each day as they learn to face the world. But it’s also something we do as parents. We weigh up the possibilities, consider the options and potential outcomes, then guide and support our children in their learning. At times this can feel overwhelming but the good news is that we don’t have to face these risks on our own. We can approach our heavenly Father in prayer and ask for wisdom, guidance and peace. And, this too is a risk as parents we must be willing to take.

Penny