Parenting is the only job in the world where they hand you the most precious, fragile, image-bearing life in existence and say, “Good luck.” There is no final exam. No certification. No instruction manual tucked inside the hospital gift bag. The first night after Ellie was born was a shock to me. I was the youngest in my family. I had never really held a baby and I definitely had never changed a diaper. I didn’t realize how loud babies could cry, and no one tells you that babies don’t explain what they need. They just cry. Maybe they’re hungry. Maybe they’re tired. Maybe they’re gassy. Maybe they’re bored. Maybe they just want to be held. To someone who had never been around babies, all crying sounded the same — like nails on a chalkboard. And then they give you that DVD at the hospital about not shaking the baby. Before we had Ellie, I remember thinking, “How could someone ever shake a baby?” After that first sleepless night, I understood how exhaustion can push people to their limits. I never did, and obviously it’s a horrible thing, but when you’re tired and you feel helpless, you realize how much you don’t know.

Ellie also had this rare sleep issue that about one in five thousand babies experience. Her sleep cycles didn’t connect, so she would wake up eight to twelve times per night. Jen instinctively knew what to do, but I had to learn what I didn’t know. Then when Ellie was twenty-one months old, Ava was born. I went from never changing a diaper to being a stay-at-home dad with two kids under two. Somewhere in that chaos, I started thriving. Parenting stretched me in ways nothing else ever had.

It all happens so fast. One minute you’re figuring out how to swaddle, and the next you’re explaining why we don’t lick shopping carts. You’re telling them not to point with their middle finger because it means something you’ll explain when they’re older. Then you’re teaching them how to drive. Then you’re praying they don’t drive like you did. I remember taking Ellie to Walmart when she was about two years old. We were in the checkout line behind several carts, waiting our turn. Suddenly she shouted, “Go! It’s green! Hurry up!” I immediately wondered where she had heard that before. Children are always watching, always absorbing, always imitating. If you don’t like how your kids act, it might be worth asking where they learned it. Parenting is beautiful and exhausting and hilarious and humbling all at the same time.

And parenting in this day and age feels different than it did even ten years ago. We are raising kids in a world of smartphones, social media, constant comparison, shifting values, and endless opinions. We are competing with YouTube, TikTok, group chats, teachers, coaches, celebrities, and influencers we never invited into our living rooms. Everyone has advice. If you’re too strict, you’re damaging them. If you’re too relaxed, you’re neglecting them. Homeschool and you’re sheltering them. Public school and you’re exposing them. Discipline them and you’re harsh. Don’t discipline them and you’re irresponsible. There are books, podcasts, blogs, and influencers promising five steps to successful kids or three secrets to perfect teenagers. Every week there is a new method and a new guarantee. And yet anxiety among parents continues to rise because deep down we all know there is no parenting formula that works one hundred percent of the time. You can do everything “right” and still face rebellion. You can make mistakes and still raise incredible adults. You can follow every trend and still feel unsure.

That’s why we need something deeper than advice. While there may not be a perfect parenting formula, there is a perfect foundation. There is wisdom that has outlived every cultural trend and truth that does not shift with algorithms. There is a voice that speaks louder than culture, and it is the Word of God. Long before social media and modern psychology, God was speaking to mothers and fathers about shaping hearts, not just behavior. He was teaching them to build character, not just résumés, and to raise children who know Him, love Him, and walk with Him. The Bible does not give a step-by-step script for every bedtime meltdown or teenage eye roll, but it gives us principles that anchor us, wisdom that steadies us, and grace that carries us when we feel like we’re failing.

Psalm 139 reminds us that children are not accidents. David writes that God knit him together in his mother’s womb and that he was fearfully and wonderfully made. That language is poetic, but it is intentional. David did not say he formed by accident. He said God knit him together. That word carries the idea of craftsmanship, attention, and purpose. Science can show us the mechanics of life — how DNA forms at conception, how a heart begins beating within weeks, how development unfolds day by day. Science explains how. Scripture explains why. Genesis tells us that humanity was created in the image of God. That means our children carry dignity not because of what they achieve but because of who designed them. Parenting is not just behavior management; it is stewardship. We are not just raising bodies; we are shaping souls.

Of course, all of that sounds beautiful until you are standing in the nursery at 2:13 a.m., rocking a baby who refuses to sleep. You whisper Psalm 139 over them while wondering why God did not knit in a mute button. That image-bearing miracle becomes a toddler with very formed opinions about socks and chicken nuggets. Elementary school brings homework that looks nothing like the math you learned. Middle school brings hormones and eye rolls. The teenage years bring questions about identity, purpose, faith, and belonging. Every stage feels different. Infancy feels like survival. The toddler years are about boundaries. Elementary years are shaping. Middle school is shepherding. Teen years are releasing. The challenges change, but the calling does not.

The Bible may not tell you how to get your toddler to eat vegetables, but it teaches obedience. It may not explain TikTok trends, but it speaks clearly about identity. It may not script every difficult teenage conversation, but it gives wisdom for truth, grace, discipline, and love. The same God who knit them together in the womb knows what their hearts need at two months, two years, twelve years, and seventeen years old. If He designed their life, He probably knows how that life flourishes best.

Maybe the goal is not perfect parenting. Maybe the goal is steady parenting. Guided parenting. Parenting anchored not in panic or comparison or whatever trend is popular this week, but in the Word of the One who formed them in the first place. From diapers to diplomas, we all need Parental Guidance.