Launching Arrows

Behold, children are a heritage from the Lord,

the fruit of the womb a reward.

Like arrows in the hand of a warrior

are the children of one's youth.

Psalm 127:3-4 ESV

Some of you are in the middle of a long goodbye with your child. Graduation day approaches, and you’re pre-grieving the looming reality that they are about to leave the house for college, trade school, or work.

Well, actually, if you’re a parent, all of you are in the middle of a long goodbye with your child. You see, the Lord gives us children to raise, train, love, and fling into the world. They aren’t yours to keep; they’re yours to steward.

Let’s think about what arrows are meant to do:

1. They’re meant to be shot. Arrows kept in a quiver are decoration, not arrows. Arrows are made to be shot, sent out away from you. I am not saying we’re called to kick our kids out of our house and change the locks, but I am saying we are called to send them out into the world. Some of us just want them to be the orbit of our world, but the truth is they’re meant to go out into the world to discover what the Lord has for them.

2. They’re meant to be shaped. A bent arrow flies crooked. Our children are meant to be shaped by the love of God poured out through the gospel of Jesus. They are not well shaped by our perfect behavior, nor by rigid morality — they are shaped by the reality that God loves sinners like us enough to die for us. They are shaped by the knowledge that God is love, and God has a great plan for each of us. They are shaped by our repentance as parents, as we turn from our sin in confession, experience grace anew — and in so doing prove we too believe the gospel we’re teaching them.

3. They’re meant to be shot with purpose. A good archer aims with great intention, considering the wind, range, and movement of his target. In the same way, we as parents must take care to consider how we’re aiming our children. They must know that their lives are not their own, they have been bought with a price, and that the Lord means to use their gifts to glorify Him and draw others to Him.

4. They’re meant to be retrieved. Arrows are costly, and they’re meant to be retrieved after being shot. (Okay, bow hunters, I know some of them get damaged or lost, but in general you get the idea.) Your work is not finished when your child enters her first semester, gets married, or has her first child. Your house might be empty, but your purpose as a parent remains — steep them in the love of God through the gospel work of Jesus. Be present in their life.

Launching a child into the world is not just a goodbye. It’s a very important goodbye. It’s a gospel goodbye. Lord willing, you’re deploying a missionary. And if you’re unsettled by how you’ve done as a parent or where their hearts are spiritually — or both — remember that our God is not constrained by your failures. You can’t save your kids — only He can. You can’t protect your kids — only He can. You can’t give your kids a life of meaning — only He can.

I have three arrows tattooed on my right wrist, and it’s a reminder for me to be mindful of the three arrows in my quiver: Liam, Lila, and Hayes. I am not launching them just yet, but I know that day will come quite soon. I know there will be tears. I’d like to just keep them around forever. But that would be a disservice to them and what God has for them.

Let me close with this. Stand up straight, and trust the Lord. An archer must be confident. An article from the National Archery in Schools Program says this about archery:

Confidence is key. You must trust your release and follow through.

So it goes with us as parents. You must trust the release of your child, knowing they are and always have been in God’s hands. He tells us to train them up in the way they should go, and when they’re old they won’t depart from it (Proverbs 22:6).

Would you take a moment to pray with me?

Lord, I entrust my child(ren) to you fully. I know they are knit together in the womb by your perfect hands. As I raise them, and as I send them into the world, would you give me confidence in who you are? Would you comfort me in my anxiety, and kill my desire for control? And finally, Lord, would my children be amplifiers of your glory. Would they grow into gospel warriors, shining Christ’s light wherever you lead them. I trust you, Lord, and where I don’t trust you please teach me to trust you because you are worthy of my full trust. In Jesus’ name, amen.