They Don't Need You Less. They Need You Differently.

Happy Friday Friends,

I hope your week held more mercies than messes, but if not, grab that cup of coffee (or glass of wine if it’s evening) and settle in for our weekly chat.

For the past few months, I’ve felt this shift in our family and it’s been both wonderful and heartwrenching.

I’ve watched my boys start to do more and more on their own. Running off as soon as they get home to find friends outside, instead of begging me to be the pitcher in the backyard. And there’s a moment (different for every mom, different for every kid) where it all just feels very real, very fast.

For so long, you’ve been in a season of pouring out everything. Running on empty physically, emotionally, mentally. That’s just the water you swim in for a while.

Then one day you’re standing in the kitchen cooking dinner, and it’s quiet, except for the sound of laughter coming from the backyard. And you have this bittersweet moment of recognition: I have been praying for this. A moment to gather my thoughts, cook dinner, hum to myself, without constant stimulation. But your heart hurts a little too because gone are the days of “mama, can I help?” and “mom, will you please…”

Here’s the truth I couldn’t shake: this isn’t the end of being needed. It’s the beginning of being needed in a whole new way.

And there’s a promise in Philippians that I think is going to shift something in you… from grieving the years when they needed you to survive, to celebrating the years when they need you to thrive. Let’s dig in.

Talking to Jesus by Brandon Lake

Then he walked in my room

While I was saying my prayers the other night

He said, “I’ll come back later

I can tell you have a lot on your mind”

I said, “It’s not an interruption

You couldn’t have picked a better time

‘Cause I was talking to Jesus,

Come over and give it a try”

If you have never heard this song, pop over and give it a listen (here) before you read another word!

In this particular section, Brandon’s son walks into his room while he is praying and starts to leave, assuming he’s interrupting. But instead of seeing it as an interruption, Brandon sees it as an opportunity to teach his son how to talk to Jesus.

This is exactly what we are talking about today. As our children get older, their need for us changes, over and over again. In each new season, we get to learn how to show up for them in a whole new way.

They may not need us to tie their shoes anymore, or to be the all-time pitcher in the backyard. But their need turns into something deeper, a shaping of their spirit instead of just a shaping of their days.

That’s the invitation of this season. The need doesn’t disappear, it just grows up.

Before we dig into Philippians, let’s start here. Every mom has probably read Genesis 2:24, the verse where God tells us His design for children isn’t for them to stay tucked under our wings forever, but to move on and out into the world.

Don’t worry, we aren’t quite there yet! Where we are, though, is in the middle of this tender moment of watching our children slowly move away from us while figuring out how to be the guardrails in their lives.

And friend, there is a promise that was written for this exact tension, the middle space between holding on and letting go. We find it right at the beginning of Philippians.

Paul is writing, from prison, to a church of believers in Philippi, a community he helped build from the ground up. But now he finds himself in a position where he can’t shepherd them closely anymore. And yet he writes to them with complete confidence… not in his own ability to finish what he started, but in God’s faithfulness to carry it forward.

We can take a huge lesson from Paul in the parenting sense here. He isn’t desperately hanging onto control or trying to manipulate outcomes from afar. He is encouraging the church, bolstering them up with what he knows to be true, and surrendering the rest to God.

And here’s the beautiful thing: this verse is being spoken over you as a mom just as much as it is being spoken over your child.

God began a good work in you the moment they were placed in your arms. The sleepless nights, the comforting snuggles, the discipline, this has always been His work through your hands. And He will continue to use you to shape them, and them to shape you, until His work is complete.

God also began a good work in your child before you ever laid eyes on them. And because they were His before they were yours, He has plans in place for them that extend far beyond your reach. We get to step into the position of Paul, though hopefully not from prison 😉, and release the need for complete control. If there is one thing we know: God always completes what He starts. So this independence you are seeing right now isn’t your work ending, it’s His work continuing.

You are right in the middle of the story He is writing. It may feel bittersweet, it may feel like an undoing but it is actually an incredible moment of surrender. An invitation to partner with God in completing the good work He started and will finish in your child.

If I am honest (why does it feel like this section always starts this way?! 🙃), the quiet moment cooking dinner felt like a sweet little gift for all of the pouring out I have done over the last nine years of parenting.

And if we aren’t careful, we might see these shifts in our roles as an invitation to exhale a little too long, to slowly drift from the active work of mothering while the demands feel lighter.

But here is where I landed this week: just because the physical demands are getting lighter doesn’t mean I get to drop the spiritual ones.

Our greatest assignment when they are little is to help them survive. But as they get older, that assignment graduates to helping them thrive. In reality, they don’t need us less. They need us differently.

And that stewarding? It’s a direct call from God. (Proverbs 22:6; 1 Timothy 3:4; Deuteronomy 6:6-9)

So what does stewarding them actually look like in this season? I don’t have it all figured out, but here is what I am thinking:

• I may not be the all-time pitcher anymore, but I am still one of the coaches. That means being present, staying close, and knowing when to step in and when to hold back. It means having all the kids in my backyard while quietly cracking the window.

• It means always keeping the door open, never shutting down the questions that feel too hard, and being their safe place to land.

• It means praying over them relentlessly — both in front of them and when they aren’t around.

• It means modeling what it looks like to walk beside Jesus so that as they grow, it feels like the most natural thing they could do.

I would love to hear from the moms who have been walking in this season longer than I have or who are right in the middle of it with me. What are some things you do to steward your children?

Lord,

They were Yours before they were ours. And we are just so thankful that we get to partner with You in raising them.

Help us navigate each season of changing needs — not with our own need for control, but with the confidence that You will finish what You start.

Help us get to know the humans our children are becoming, so that we can step into exactly the role they need from us.

Help us never step back from those needs, even when they feel hard or confusing.

And above all, help us teach them that walking with You will be the greatest joy of their lives.

Amen.

Until next week, Blair