Lately, I have been thinking a great deal about who is really shaping the hearts and minds of our children. That question does not disappear just because your children are older. In some ways, it becomes even more sobering. I have been married for thirty-six years, and my wife and I have raised three children into young adulthood. That means I am not writing about parenting as a theory. I am writing as a man who has lived long enough to know the weight of it. I know what it is to try to guide a family through changing times, shifting pressures, and a world that is always ready to compete for the loyalty of your children.
In recent years, and especially with the public attention given to YouTube, TikTok, and similar platforms, more people have begun to admit that screens do more than entertain. They influence. They shape habits. They train attention. They stir desires. They normalize attitudes and behavior. The world may now be arguing about those dangers in courtrooms and public policy, but the deeper issue was already clear long before this generation ever held a phone in its hand.
As I look at all of this, I find myself less concerned with what the courts may decide and more concerned with what God has already made plain. Long before our homes were filled with screens and constant digital noise, the Lord gave parents their duty. “These words, which I am commanding you today, shall be on your heart. You shall teach them diligently to your sons” (Deuteronomy 6:6–7, NASB). That passage brings me back to where the real responsibility lies—not first with lawmakers or companies, but with me in the home God has entrusted to my care.
Over the years, I have come to see that parenting was never just about getting children through school, keeping them busy, or making sure they stayed out of obvious trouble. Those things matter, but they are not the heart of the matter. The deeper task is formation. It is helping shape what your children love, what they fear, what they respect, what they believe, and what kind of people they are becoming. That kind of work cannot be done by accident. It takes intention. It takes conversation. It takes correction. It takes prayer. It takes example.
Looking back, I can see how easy it is for parents to become consumed with the urgent and neglect what is most important. There are bills to pay, schedules to manage, obligations to meet, and endless practical concerns that press in on family life. A home can be full of activity and still be spiritually thin. A family can be responsible, organized, and hardworking, yet still fail to open the word of God often enough or speak about spiritual things deeply enough. That is a hard truth, but it is true.
I have learned that if a father does not help shape the thinking of his children, plenty of other voices will gladly step in. Some of those voices come through entertainment. Some come through peers. Some come through social media. Some come through the general drift of a culture that no longer respects biblical authority. The screen is not just a device. Many times, it functions like a teacher. It teaches what deserves attention, what is funny, what is acceptable, what is attractive, what is shameful, and what is worth pursuing. That is why Proverbs 4:23 says, “Watch over your heart with all diligence, for from it flow the springs of life.” The heart drives the life. Once the heart is captured, the direction of a person is often not far behind.
That is why I do not believe this is merely a technology issue. It is a discipleship issue. Romans 12:2 says, “Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind.” That verse is not abstract theology. It is daily family life. Minds are being shaped every day. Hearts are being influenced every day. No home stays neutral. Either truth is steadily forming the family, or the world is doing it by default. That does not mean every device is evil or that every use of technology is wrong. It means parents must be awake. We must think beyond convenience and ask what is feeding the soul of our family.
At my stage of life, I can also say this plainly: influence changes as children get older, but it does not end. When your children are small, you guide them with direct rules and immediate supervision. As they grow, the conversations become different. The counsel becomes different. The opportunities to correct may become less frequent, but the need for wisdom, encouragement, and truth does not disappear. I still care deeply about what shapes my children. I still want them grounded in truth. I still want them to know that God’s word is right and that His way is better than the world’s way.
That also means I cannot act as though the local church is meant to do what God assigned to parents. The church has an important role. Sound preaching matters. Bible classes matter. Fellowship matters. The congregation strengthens saints and helps families. But the home still bears a responsibility that cannot be outsourced. Ephesians 6:4 says, “Fathers, do not provoke your children to anger, but bring them up in the discipline and instruction of the Lord.” That charge is direct. It does not fall first on a Bible class teacher or a preacher. It falls in the home.
If I am honest, one of the lessons life teaches a parent is humility. Anyone who has raised children long enough can look back and see moments where he wishes he had done better, spoken sooner, listened more carefully, or been more intentional. I can relate to that. Parenting has a way of showing you both your duty and your weakness. But I do not believe regret should become an excuse for passivity. If anything, it ought to press us toward greater faithfulness now. We may not be able to redo yesterday, but we can still speak truth today. We can still pray today. We can still encourage today. We can still set a godly example today.
I also believe that love must be willing to set boundaries. Psalm 101:3 says, “I will set no worthless thing before my eyes.” That principle still matters. A loving home is not one that surrenders without resistance to every influence that comes through a screen. Love watches. Love warns. Love restricts when necessary. Love asks questions. Love cares enough to say no. That is not harshness. That is stewardship.
What I want, especially at this stage of life, is not to look back and say that the world had a stronger voice in my family than Scripture did. I want my children to know that through all the years of marriage, work, stress, decisions, and changing seasons, one thing remained settled in our home: God’s word is true, and it is worth building a family around. After thirty-six years of marriage and the blessing of raising three children, I can say this with conviction: the duty to spiritually influence your family is not a burden to resent. It is a stewardship to honor. And in an age filled with noise, confusion, and digital distraction, that stewardship deserves our best effort, our clearest voice, and our deepest faith.
