More Than Pretty Shoes

By Kitty Collins

Anyone who knows me knows I love a pretty pair of shoes. In fact, I nearly broke my ankle falling down a flight of stairs at church wearing this very pair. But it turns out the shoes that have taught me the most were never found in my closet.

There was a time in my life when parenting seemed much more black-and-white. I know people who seem to possess a kind of grace that comes so naturally, and I truly admire them because it hasn't always come naturally to me. I'm not proud to admit that I have been the mom who quietly drew conclusions. I have compared. I have judged. I have assumed that if another child was making poor choices or had walked away from the values they were raised with, there must be a reason—and that reason probably had something to do with their parenting.

The longer I live, the more shoes I find myself walking in—shoes I might have once made assumptions about when they were on someone else's feet. And every time life places me in another pair, I'm reminded how little I really knew.

Parenting three children has humbled me. It continues to.

Raising children is one of the greatest exercises in humility we'll ever experience. Looking back, like any parent, I can see plenty of decisions I would change if given the chance, but I also know those decisions were made according to what I believed my children’s best interests were at the time. More often than not, I believe that's true of other parents too.

I've also come to realize that we all parent through the lens of our own life experiences. We are shaped by the homes we grew up in, the people who influenced us, the mistakes we've made, the lessons we've learned, the hardships we've endured, and the convictions we've developed along the way. Those experiences naturally influence the decisions we make for our own children, and they continue to shape us as we learn to parent each child's unique personality.

When I've caught myself silently judging another parent's choices, I try to remember that I haven't walked in their shoes. Had I grown up in the same home, in the same city, with the same personality, surrounded by the same people, and experienced the same joys and hardships they have, I might very well make many of the same decisions.

One of the most important lessons I've learned is that children aren't the predictable outcome of a recipe. For a long time, I think part of me believed that if parents genuinely loved the Lord, faithfully taught biblical truth, modeled it well, prayed fervently, and made wise decisions, their children would naturally follow the same path. Life has shown me it's rarely that simple.

Children are uniquely created by God with their own personalities, strengths, weaknesses, struggles, gifts, and ultimately, their own free will. Even in our imperfection, God gives us the incredible privilege of shaping their hearts, teaching them truth, modeling integrity, setting boundaries, and loving them well. Those things matter deeply.

But influence is not the same as control.

There comes a point in every child's life when they begin making choices that belong to them—not to us.

One of the most freeing lessons the Lord taught me during one of my hardest seasons of parenting was how I had misunderstood Proverbs 22:6.

"Train up a child in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not depart from it."

For years, I unknowingly treated that verse as a promise—as though faithful parenting guaranteed a particular outcome. If I taught my children well, loved them faithfully, prayed consistently, and pointed them to Christ, then surely, they would always choose to follow Him.

But that's not what the proverb is saying. Like all proverbs in Scripture—it is a general truth for living, but not an absolute. It is not like the doctrine of salvation which is an absolute. 

In more than 26 years of parenting alongside other faithful mommies, I've come to believe this with all my heart: Parenting is not a formula. Leading children to the Lord is not an equation with a single correct answer. And there are no guarantees. Perhaps the clearest reminder is Adam and Eve. Even in a perfect environment, under the care of the only perfect Parent, the very first children still made choices in direct contradiction to what they’d been taught!

I’ve found that truth incredibly freeing.

It reminds us that our calling is faithfulness, not control. We are responsible for teaching, loving, correcting, praying, and pointing our children toward Christ. But each child will eventually make choices of their own, just as each of us has. They are human and therefore flawed.

When our children make wise decisions, we can thank God for His work in their hearts without assuming we've somehow mastered parenting. And when they reject our guidance or wander we don't have to carry the crushing weight of believing we alone are responsible for every choice they make.

Some of the most faithful, loving parents I know have walked through heartbreaking seasons with children they adore. Some still are. And some young people who appear to have everything together today may one day face struggles no one could have anticipated tomorrow.

I've learned to be careful about assigning either too much credit or too much blame to parents.

Our responsibility is to faithfully plant and faithfully water. Ultimately, God is the One who changes hearts.

Comparison: The Thief of Joy

Over the years I've also come to realize how easy it is to compare our families to those around us. We look across the room or scroll through social media and quietly convince ourselves that someone else's family is closer, happier, more spiritual, more successful, or simply easier than our own.

But what are we really comparing?

A vacation photo. A smiling family portrait. A child who appears to have it all together. A family who seems to have everything figured out.

What we don't see are the difficult conversations, the sleepless nights, the prayers whispered through tears, the disappointments, the fears, or the burdens carried behind closed doors.

Every family has chapters they don't publish.

Comparison has a way of convincing us that others are living the story we wish we had, while judgment convinces us we know why someone else's story unfolded the way it did.

Neither is true.

If I'm honest, I've realized that some of my judgments weren't really about the other family at all. Sometimes they came from my own insecurity. Sometimes from comparison. Sometimes, if I look closely enough, even from envy. It's amazing how often our assumptions reveal more about our own hearts than they do about someone else's lives.

Whether a family chooses public school, private school, or homeschooling... whether they allow smartphones early or wait... whether they emphasize sports, music, academics, or something entirely different... whether they live in the neighborhood everyone envies or one that's often overlooked… those choices usually aren't made because one parent loves their child more than another and they certainly shouldn’t be grounds for comparison. More often, they're thoughtful decisions made by parents who sincerely believe they're doing what is best for their own family, through the lens of their perspective - formed from their cumulative life experience.

That doesn't mean one decision is better than another. They’re just different. Made by different people with different perspectives.

What if instead of assuming, comparing, or judging, we are the kind of parents who are quick to encourage, slow to criticize, faithful in prayer, and generous with grace we all hope is extended to us?

The more shoes I find myself walking in, the more I realize the last thing anyone needs is more judgment. Every parent—including me—could use a little more grace.