Every Friday, a curated batch of the “Funniest Parent Tweets of the Week” is published online. Reading these quips from parents is part of my Friday routine. These funny, sometimes ridiculous, thoughts from parents—about themselves or about their kids—help me to not take myself and my own mishaps so seriously. For example,
“My wife and I didn’t renew our vows, but we did solve our third grader’s math problem together.” @daddygofish
“My favorite part about talking to my teens is when they give me direct eye contact, listen intently, nod understandingly, and then take out their AirPods when I finish and say, ‘huh?’” @maryfairybobrry
In tweets like these, I can relate to so much of what parents capture. They remind me of the millions of other parents that face the misfortunes, joys, frustrations, and absurdities of parenting. They help me process my own parenting experiences. They make me laugh, sometimes hysterically. But most of all, they remind me that I am not alone in the sometimes wondrous, sometimes chaotic experience of parenting.
THE INTERNAL CHURN
In my experience of being a parent, and as I speak with other parents, I notice that we often feel bad about ourselves. So many parents, in their private thoughts, are burdened by the expectations that they should be more, and that they should be doing more as parents. When we can’t, or when we don’t, then we are disappointed with ourselves. We feel deep distress when we can’t be the parents we want to be. I will refer to these hard emotions and thoughts as the internal churn inside of us.
The internal churn is the bad feelings and thoughts that constantly roll around in us as we evaluate our parenting day in and day out: guilt, fear, shame, and regret. Sometimes the churn is loud. This tormenting mix dominates every little interaction with our kids, and the self-condemning thoughts are clear. Sometimes the churn just feels bad, but we can’t make out its messages.
And though it can be hard to tease them apart, especially because one experience can lead to another and they can get tangled up together, we can deal with each one separately.
A FIRM FOUNDATION FOR QUIETING OUR DISTRESS
The churn is not an experience that is easy to escape. I know this from my personal experience as a mother. To really quiet this churn, we need a voice that speaks to us, about us. You probably have already discovered that it is not enough to tell yourself that you’re a good mother or father. In moments when you’re struggling with harsh assessments of your parenting, your own attempts to reassure yourself just aren’t persuasive enough. You might try to tell yourself, “I am doing a good job,” but you will doubt that just as soon as you think it. We need a voice from outside ourselves. We need that voice to have authority. We need it to be persuasive, and we need to be persuaded by it.
That brings us now to what is perhaps an unexpected place—the book of Zephaniah. It’s a book that is easily overlooked in our Bibles. With a mere three chapters, it’s hard to even locate it! Zephaniah is one of the so-called minor prophets—and when the prophets are on the scene in the history of God’s people, it’s because things are really bad. God calls the prophets to bring warnings to the people and to call them to repentance. And though the people are guilty, we learn the love and mercy of God is greater than their guilt. Listen to these words of promise:
He will rejoice over you with gladness;
he will quiet you by his love.
Zephaniah 3:17
A churn needs to be quieted. How intriguing that God’s love is what quiets. That is a truth that deserves further investigation. Let’s locate it in its original context and then establish how it becomes an orienting reality that we as God’s people have inherited and can cherish.
WE NEED SHELTER
The book of Zephaniah begins with a prophecy that the God who made everything will destroy all that he has made. This will be a reversal of the Genesis creation account. God will break down his created order into chaos. Zephaniah’s prophecy is referring to the “Great Day of the Lord,” a day of universal judgment for all of mankind. Though Zephaniah goes on in chapter 1 to warn of particular judgment that is coming for the people of Judah in his day, the opening verses go broader. We are all under this broader judgment because all have sinned and all fall short of the glory of God (Romans 3:23). Well, that stirs up a churn in our gut, doesn’t it?
I promise we’re moving toward good news, but we must start right here—with an accurate understanding of our true condition! We have all messed up in all kinds of ways. We are truly guilty, and God will judge us. These are not particularly welcome thoughts, but this is the truth that comes to us from the authoritative Word of God. Knowing that truth helps us see what our true needs are. If there is to be any hope that we might be spared from judgment, then we will need God to be gracious and merciful to us. It’s really our only hope—that God might show us grace. Hold that thought.
As for Judah—and the numerous surrounding nations—God’s judgment does fall upon them. Each nation crumbles. But even as God brings judgment, he promises that a remnant of Judah would survive (Zephaniah 2:7, 9; 3:9–12). This is grace from God. There is no indication (yet) that Judah has repented and thereby made themselves deserving of a rescue. But the rescue of a remnant is nevertheless foretold. This is the context of the final verses of the book. It’s a song of joy—a poem that celebrates God’s faithfulness to his people. His people were unfaithful. We have been unfaithful. “All have sinned and fall short,” but the book of Zephaniah lands on the note that God is faithful.
Zephaniah follows his pronouncements of guilt and judgment in the pattern of the prophets—with a call to repentance. He pleads for God’s people to seek righteousness and humility. If they do, then they “will be sheltered on the day of the Lord’s anger” (Zephaniah 2:3 NIV). Only he or she who is sheltered will be able to stand on the Great Day of the Lord.
The poem that ends the book is a song that brims with gladness.
Sing aloud, O daughter of Zion;
shout, O Israel!
Rejoice and exult with all your heart,
O daughter of Jerusalem!
The Lord has taken away the judgments against you;
he has cleared away your enemies.
The King of Israel, the Lord, is in your midst;
you shall never again fear evil.
On that day it shall be said to Jerusalem:
“Fear not, O Zion;
let not your hands grow weak.
The Lord your God is in your midst,
a mighty one who will save;
he will rejoice over you with gladness;
he will quiet you by his love;
he will exult over you with loud singing.
What a contrast to the opening verses that spoke fiercely of God’s judgment! So if you put the two main messages of Zephaniah together, they say this: God’s just judgment is coming and God will be faithful to rescue a people for himself—a people he greatly delights in.
Both are true. How can both be true if “all have sinned”? How can God’s justice and mercy meet?
They meet on the cross of Jesus Christ. Another judgment day has, in fact, come to pass—and the righteous judgment of God fell upon Jesus. On the cross, God’s judgment was poured out on his Son. The Son offered himself, willingly, so that God could rescue a people for himself. God has come close—he is in our midst—through Jesus Christ, mediated through the Spirit that Jesus sent to be with us.
WHAT DOES ZEPHANIAH HAVE TO DO WITH PARENTING?
I wanted those words of promise that God quiets you with his love to come to you situated in their original context, so that you could take a moment to remember and to ponder that God has been faithful to quiet the deepest churn we will ever face. On the Great Day of the Lord, when God will justly judge the whole world, those who have trusted in Jesus will stand righteous and unashamed because Jesus’s sacrifice on our behalf has sheltered us. The deepest dread any of us feel—the dread of death and the dread of judgment—we are rescued from.
And if God can quiet that churn, then he can quiet the other churns we face in this life, including the ones we face as parents. He is mighty to save—from any terrors we face, both big and small. He saves us—once, for all, and all of the time. Over and over again he proves he is mighty to save and faithful to rescue. That is always the trajectory, and that is always, always the way it goes for God’s children who are hidden in Christ. Even if we are faithless, he remains faithful (2 Timothy 2:13). Faithful is who he is.
And still there is more that we can say about what kind of Father he is. In his faithfulness, our God pledged himself to us. “I will be with you,” Jesus promised. He will be with us and he will never leave. Remember how Zephaniah captured it: God is in our midst. He is in our midst—and close enough that we can hear his voice.
The authoritative voice that we need to come from outside of us is his voice. Read Zephaniah 3:17 again. His voice is speaking words of rejoicing over us. It’s a voice that speaks gently to us—quieting our anxious hearts with the reminder that he loves us and he is for us. He uses his voice—the voice that made the heavens and the earth—to exult over us with loud singing. This is a Father filled with joy and love for his beloved child. It’s a love that can’t be contained—and so it sings. He sings for you.
Rejoicing, quieting, exulting—this is how our heavenly Father feels toward you. If that is how he feels about us, then we should come to him. In “Jesus, I Come,” William T. Sleeper wrote, “Out of my self to dwell in thy love. . . . Jesus, I come to thee.” We should come out of ourselves and into his love. Of course we should. A Father who feels this way about us will want to help us. And he does.
He wants to help you with the fears, the guilt, the shame, and the regrets you wrestle with as a parent. In every struggle, in every distress, he is mighty to save. He is in your midst, and so we will proceed now with every confidence of his love.
He loves you. That is the firm foundation that we will build upon.
Excerpted from When Parents Feel like Failures: How Jesus Quiets Our Distress © 2024 by Lauren Whitman. Used with permission of New Growth Press. May not be reproduced without prior written permission.
When Parents Feel Like Failures
Parents often struggle with four deeply distressing emotions: fear, guilt, shame, and regret. Many parents feel resigned to the fact that these emotions will always just be a part of their experience. But Lauren Whitman, a counselor and mother, helps parents see Jesus’s compassion and receive the comfort he offers them in their distress.
