Last night I was on a Zoom call with some young adults who I got to know four years ago. We began the call catching up with one another. The first guy shared how he's been learning some things. He said, "It's been hard sometimes, but I'm doing OK."

"Can you share more specifics?" I asked.

"Well, it's kind of hard."

We leaned forward, wondering what he'd share, but unprepared for what came next.

"My brother shot my mom and killed her, then he committed suicide."

We were shocked and silent as he shared the story. When he had finished, we prayed for him. And after the call was over, a question lingered, "What in the world is going on with our young people?" You can't read the news in a given day without coming across a story of some young person violently lashing out.

The breakdown of the family looms large. Fathers who don’t show up, mothers carrying disproportionate burdens. Schools stretched beyond capacity. Social media saturating young minds with toxic lies and comparison.

How are we as parents to respond? The default response is often fear. We think, “I need to protect my kids more.” So we hover. We check. We guard. We refuse to let them take chances. As they grow into adolescence, we struggle to trust them with choices that could lead to pain.

That instinct is understandable. But there it has the potential to be counterproductive. Kids need risk to become adults. Some of those risks will hurt. In fact, that’s how humans grow. We learn to walk by falling. Teens know this - they see the gap between where they are and where grownups are. They long to be trusted to cross that gap. As they grow older, we struggle to trust them to make the choices that could lead to pain.

The problem is, kids need to take risks to become adults. And some of those risks will be painful. But this is how human beings learn. We learn to walk by falling down. Teenagers know this and they long to be trusted. They see the gap between where they are and where most adults are and they hunger to have the chance to grow.

So, as parents, we need to learn how to trust our kids more as they get older. We give room for transformation. When we trust our teens, we mirror the way God trusts us-with freedom, purpose, and the chance to grow through grace.

Trust means letting them feel pain — resisting the urge to rescue them. Pain is a teacher. When we live as though our children must never suffer, we undermine their capacity to grow strong.

How to Begin to Trust More

Here are some practical steps to move in the direction of trust:

1. Scale back checks — Identify areas in their life you monitor more than necessary. Let them establish accountability in fewer places.

2. Give incremental agency — Allow them to make decisions (and live with results) in areas you’ve previously micromanaged.

3. Coach more, control less — When they face difficulty, ask questions rather than giving orders. Let them wrestle with solutions.

4. Own your mistakes — If you blew it by being overbearing, apologize. That builds credibility when you release control. (See How to Repent to Your Children) sethbarnes.com

5. Be for them, not just over them — Your posture must be “I’m on your side” even when you disapprove. Trust carries risk - you might be disappointed - but staying relational opens doors.

The Trust They Need

Our children live in a world already trying to control them - algorithms, peer pressure, media, cultural narratives. What they need from us is a different posture: trust that says, “I believe you can carry more than I assumed.” That doesn’t mean ignoring danger. It means building a relational architecture of trust so that when they stumble or stray, they return.

In that Zoom call last night, that young man shared a story of deep loss. But he returned. He shared. And within that fragile trust, he'll continue to experience healing.

Parents, our greatest job is not to wall the world off from our kids - it’s to trust them with more. Let them risk. Let them learn. And may we lean forward with courage.