Our son Soren is seventeen years old. And he doesn’t know how to ride his bike.
I share this as a confession. Soren is more comfortable with this fact than I am.
As parents, we feel responsible for equipping our kids for the world. But what does it mean to prepare our children for life? What does it mean to be a successful parent?
When you think of it, the demands are overwhelming, isn’t it?
Regarding responsibility, we want to teach them to be thoughtful stewards by caring for their things, respecting their physical environment by cleaning the bathroom and kitchen, gaining independence by making meals and doing their own laundry, and maintaining their bodies through exercise and healthy eating. We want them to mature in developing discipline, personal integrity, and perseverance.
When it comes to intellectual growth, we want our kids to become scholars that know how to think critically. We want them to know the classic literary works, to have a basic grasp of history and science, and to understand core mathematical concepts. We also want them to grow in their appreciation of the arts and learn a foreign language.
Regarding relationships, we want our kids to learn how to choose their friends wisely, navigate conflict in a godly manner, and be generous with others. We want our kids to select a spouse and honor God with their sexuality.
I haven’t mentioned handling money, swimming, wisely managing technology, playing on a team, healthy competition, and, most importantly, becoming faithful followers of Jesus.
But who doesn’t teach their kid to ride a bike?
Me, that’s who.
Let me explain.
Our eldest, Camille, is naturally adventurous, courageous, and predisposed to see challenges as opportunities. After teaching Camille to ride her bike, I thought I should open my bike-riding studio. You should have seen us. Camille, with her cute little helmet, elbow and knee guards on, me, running behind her. She was so determined and confident that she begged for her training wheels to come off, even though she primarily learned to ride in our gravel driveway.
Along came Soren. In classic second-sibling fashion, Soren was much more willing to let his elder sister take chances and follow in her wake. Why learn how to ride a bike when a tricycle gets you from point A to point B just as well? Yeah, it’s a little slower, but the risk of falling off a tricycle is minuscule compared to falling off a bike.
And so, I led the charge. We gave Soren a bicycle as a gift, but he wasn’t interested in it. Assessing the increased risk of riding this new-fangled contraption (even with training wheels), Soren always chose the tricycle. I encouraged, cajoled, even bribed, but he wasn’t interested. Tears were shed.
Operation “you-will-learn-to-ride-your-bike” commenced. Training wheels were removed, and, with many tears, I forced Soren up on his bike. He wouldn’t pedal. He begged to come off. I tried to soothe him. I pleaded with him. I bribed him again. And then I got angry at him.
Not long after I attempted to get him to ride, we moved homes and he turned five. Our new home was at the end of a beautifully paved cul-de-sac encircled by a flawless sidewalk. Surely his fears would dissipate. They did not. Our bike riding lessons became the low points of the week for each of us. He couldn’t imagine how the future reward of riding a bike could be worth the present risk of learning how to ride one.
Meanwhile, my marriage with Angel hung by a thread. She had confessed to a series of affairs and I was trying to do the hard work of forgiveness. Bit by bit we were rebuilding trust, and I was examining my own heart to unveil how I had contributed to this disaster.
Our kids felt the instability. We both had to change jobs and take pay cuts. We couldn’t afford the mortgage of the new home we were living in. On top of the fragility and uncertainty of the future of our marriage, we knew we would have to move again.
All the while, I was trying to teach Soren to learn to ride his bike. I tried every trick I could think of. I watched YouTube videos. I got tips from other parents.
Honestly, I think I felt like there was more at stake than Soren learning to ride his bike. I had failed as a husband and as a pastor. Was I a failure as a dad, too?
I’m sure my son felt my fear. His sensitive heart resisted the control I tried to exert over him. “Fathers, do not provoke your children to anger,” (Eph. 6:4) Paul said. Provoking my son to fear was no better.
Right around his sixth birthday we moved again, and then six months later we moved again. By this time Angel and I were doing the hard work of restoring our marriage and it was healthier than ever. Home life was safe and stable now, but I think he could never disconnect bicycling from the anxieties and fears associated with it. Our final move was into downtown Princeton, New Jersey on a relatively busy and steep road. I would hold him the whole way down the steep hill until we got to the park, which was flat, but whose sidewalks were cracked and uneven. Eventually, Soren would learn to ride for short stints without me holding him, but he insisted on bicycling in the grass where the falls were soft, but the soft ground meant the stability was worse.
By the time Soren turned seven, I had stopped pressuring him to take bike rides with me. Too much of my parenting capital was being spent in this corner of our relationship. I realized I was exerting too much pressure on him and not caring enough for his heart. I cared more about the man Soren would become than whether or not he could ride a bike.
I still took Soren out for bike riding lessons for several years, but by the time he started middle school, I realized that if it were a skill he wanted to learn, then he would have to initiate it himself. He never cared to ride a bike after that.
What does it mean to be a successful parent? Sometimes, it means allowing your child not to learn to ride his bike.
Where do you parent at your worst? Perhaps it is helping your child with schoolwork. Maybe it is nagging your child to do their chores. Perhaps it is discipling them for their overuse of technology. Maybe it is responding in fear to how they choose and maintain friendships.
There are some important things at stake in each of these areas. But, as important as cultivating perseverance, wisdom, discipline, and honor in your child is, so also is how we shape these values. We can raise children who honor, but in the process, lose our relationship with them. We can instill obedience in our kids, but not if the outcome is our children fearing us.
Sometimes, the most difficult decision we can make as a parent is to discern when to protect the foundation of our relationship with our child and release skills that we think are important. Your child can still turn out to be a young adult who beautifully reflects the character of God, even if they can’t ride a bike. I know Soren does.
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Photo by Markus Spiske on Unsplash