Building bridges to the younger generation

He hadn’t come to me himself. I’d not heard a peep about it. There’d been no mention of his distress. He had slipped home late that night after his father and I had turned in, and I hadn’t seen him.

The next day, it got a mention. Not from the party involved, of course, for he was not one to complain or gossip, to moan, or to whine, or to fuss. Not one to share much about feelings, he, so this time, it was his older brother who told me the tale.

“Something happened yesterday that worried him. Did he mention it to you?” That’s what his brother said. I turned, eyebrows raised.

“No,” I said. “What was it?”

So, he told me the story. It was not a big thing, really, but one of those encounters that can niggle at a fella, particularly if his conscience was tender and soft. Having been a girl such as that, I could feel it. How well I knew the anxiety that surely rose, nerves twisting.

Here’s what happened. He’d been at work. It was a new job for him, this college freshman. Eager to please, he was meticulous in the performance of his duties. Seeing an opportunity to use the facilities to increase his personal fitness, he’d checked with the proper authorities, with those in charge above him, and explained what he wanted to do.

As it was a large campus, he had asked permission to run there after he was finished working. “Go for it,” the head of facilities said, and he did.

There he was. It was after hours. He was running the circuit that he had devised when an old gentleman, another employee, came along. Not used to having a young person there at that time of day, he stopped him.

“Isn’t this a school night? Shouldn’t you be at home? Will you close these doors?” And so on and so forth in that vein.

For the new kid on the block, and a very tenderhearted one at that, it was intimidating. He froze, mumbled something, then finished his course and came home. He was writhing, I am sure, and uncertain.

Fast forward to a different day and another encounter. There by the steps was the old gentleman who had questioned him, unwittingly unsettling the young employee. On this day, however, he opened his mouth, and he apologized. With grace and humility, he uttered these words, “I should have asked you more questions. I didn’t know…”

The joy that sprang up in my heart at the hearing of it was like spring rain. For in that moment, an older gentleman had given my son a gift. In demonstrating true maturity, he had offered a teenager a chance to forgive and to show mercy. He had built a bridge with the younger generation.

Did I mention that my son was working at a church? That it was the place we attended every Sunday? I didn’t? Well, it’s true.

Today, I’m reminded again of how careful we must be, whether we are in the church or out of it. So many young people are struggling today. They are desperate for real, living examples of grace, mercy, and unconditional love. Inundated with filtered, altered reality on social media, they are dying for authenticity and connection. They need adults who know how to build bridges instead of casting stones.

That’s you, and that’s me.

It’s hard to fool young people. If you’re a phony, they’ll know it. Play pretend, and they’ll smell it. Wear the cloak of a hypocrite, and their x-ray eyes will see right through it. Love them sincerely, though, and they’ll be drawn to you like moths to a flame. Put bluntly, they will want what you have.

The question is, then, what do you have? How are you living your life before them?

What are you modelling today? Can they see the virtues of forbearance and honesty in your life? Do you treat them with respect? Do you praise more than you condemn?

Here is a penetrating question that will clear any fog in an instant. Do you want your children to look like you? In other words, do you want them to live like you’re living? If the answer is no, then it’s time to change course.

In my parenting experience, a genuine apology does much to repair a mistake. I say “real,” because my children know if I’m faking it. They know that the proof of a sincere apology is the behavior that follows it. This is the only way to restore a ruptured relationship.

This is how we rebuild a bridge that has collapsed. We make amends in order to mend what’s been harmed. As a mother, I’m so thankful for the example of that wise, older Christian man who demonstrated humility and rebuilt the bridge with my blue-eyed son who was able and willing to forgive. I’m thankful for that, too.

If we have blown up bridges, we can start right now to make amends. We can humble ourselves, apologizing sincerely and demonstrating our resolve by changing our behavior. We can, and we must, if we want to influence this young and precious generation. As always, “They are somebody else’s kids.” Let’s treat them the way we want others to treat our own.

Every Saturday morning, America’s small, caffeinated mom joins James Golden, aka Bo Snerdley, on his nationally syndicated James Golden Radio Show.