Parenting and Learning to Listen

In preparation for this week’s writing, I was reading through each day's daily readings. Today’s Gospel is Luke 17:26-37. 

In Luke 17:26–37, Jesus points back to the days of Noah and Lot, ordinary days filled with eating, drinking, buying, selling, planting, and building. Nothing dramatic. Nothing obviously sinful. Yet in the middle of all that normalcy, people missed God’s warnings. They weren’t paying attention, and danger arrived before they realized their hearts were unprepared.

As a parent, I understand that dynamic. So much of parenting is filled with ordinary moments like giving reminders, offering guidance, calling out harmful choices, and encouraging good ones. And so often, children don’t understand why we warn them. They don’t see the danger we see. They think we’re exaggerating or interrupting their fun. But love makes us speak up anyway. Love makes us build a safety net, life raft, or ark for them, even when the skies look clear.

But Jesus’ words remind me that it’s not just children who struggle to listen.

Adults do too.

We get busy. We get comfortable. We get caught up in our routines, assuming that “normal life” will always keep going as it is. And in that comfort, we can slowly tune out God’s voice. We ignore His nudges, His corrections, His invitations to slow down or turn around. We convince ourselves we’ll get serious about faith later, when life settles, when we’re less stressed, when we feel more motivated.

But Jesus tells us that the later we count on isn’t guaranteed. What matters is now whether we’re listening, whether we’re awake, whether we’re allowing God to guide us even in the middle of our ordinary days.

The truth is, God still warns us like a loving parent. He sees the dangers ahead, the habits that could trap us, relationships that drain us, choices that slowly harden our hearts. But like children, we sometimes resist. We think we know better. We think we’re fine. We assume we have time.

Luke 17 challenged me to ask myself: Am I really listening? Or am I just living on autopilot?

Just as I want my children to trust my voice even when my guidance isn’t convenient, God wants me to trust His voice too. He wants me to receive the small corrections, the gentle redirections, the quiet prompts to step away from what harms and step toward what heals.

The coming of the Son of Man that Jesus describes isn’t meant to scare us; it’s meant to remind us that every day matters. Every small yes to God matters. Every moment of attention matters. Our spiritual lives aren’t built in dramatic scenes; they’re built in the steady, faithful choices we make when no one is watching.

This week, may we be believers who listen.

May we stay awake in the ordinary.

May we trust God’s warnings as much as we hope our children trust ours.

And may we remember that His guidance is always rooted in love, calling us not away from joy, but toward a fuller and richer life. 

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