This was a baffling and humbling experience for me as a parent and, particularly, as a Christian. At one level I knew the biblical principles of child-rearing, the standards and values we were to teach, the misbehaviors we were to discipline. And yet, when the real-life challenge of actually putting all that knowledge into practice came, I didn’t know. I had one kind of knowledge but not another.

The kind of knowledge I had was theoretical or abstract; the knowledge I lacked was practical and concrete. The experience of having children of our own revealed the gap between the two and became the catalyst for moving from one kind of knowledge to the other. And that’s pretty much the way all of us grow as believers. We acquire some kind of knowledge that remains latent until we encounter situations that call for its practice.

In Reformed University Fellowship (RUF) training Mark Lowrey has used the Reformation definition of saving faith as a model for how we learn. According to Lowrey, saving faith consists of knowledge, conviction, and trust, which leads to committed action (obedience). Lowrey’s point was that these are the building blocks of any practical learning and growth in life. We gain knowledge about marriage or parenting or how to run an office; this knowledge deepens into conviction and trust and finally into action. 

But it’s then that the real learning begins, as we act on knowledge gained, hit obstacles, make errors of judgment, and ultimately realize we actually don’t understand some piece of the puzzle. So we go back to the people, the books, the Bible we learned from in the first place and try again. If a Christian sticks with the learning process, knowledge grows, character is built, and skills are acquired. Slowly, we learn to trust God and keep His commandments, and the result is wisdom: “skill in the art of godly living” (according to Jack Collins).

Perhaps it would help all of us if we could see our own struggles as God leading us through this kind of learning process. It has certainly helped me see parenting differently. The problem with my prior “know-it-all” attitude to parenting wasn’t the abstract knowledge I had acquired; the problem was that I had not yet applied that knowledge, and so it could float in its pristine form above the very real challenges (and inevitable failures) of living it out. Similarly, such mere knowledge of theology or Christian ethics is the very kind Paul warns against when he says “knowledge puffs up” (1 Corinthians 8:1). It not only creates a false, inflated view of myself based on what I supposedly “know”—it also provides an all-too-easy platform for judging others.

In the end, while I sense that I have grown (a little) in my knowledge of biblical approaches to parenting, primarily it’s my understanding of how to apply those approaches that has grown. But something else has occurred—my appreciation for the challenges of parenting has deepened, along with my compassion for those other deeply flawed parents I encounter.

Now, in the rowdy restaurant scene, we look at other frazzled parents, all of us trying to corral the kids, keep food off the floor, stem the tide—and smile.

Because now we know.

Jeremy Jones is an associate pastor of Redeemer Presbyterian Church in Memphis.  He was the RUF campus minister at Southern Mississippi and Emory University.  He and his wife Maylon have four children.