Preface: Where Discernment Often Begins
Sometimes, learning to communicate with our children doesn’t begin with serious conversations or carefully planned lessons.
Sometimes, it starts with laughter.
That’s what happened when my son Daniel joined me for his first big-game hunting trip. The hunt itself mattered—but what mattered more was the drive.
I tend to fly by the seat of my pants, and that day was no different. I didn’t want to travel over 400 miles of long, empty highways with nothing but the radio to fill the silence. Somewhere between Missouri and Kansas, an idea came to me—one I genuinely believe God placed there.
At the time, this story unfolded before I began homeschooling Daniel and his friend Scott. Looking back, I can see how this moment helped create the openness that later allowed Daniel to ask for an alternative to public school. I didn’t know it then—but something important was being built.
Before the trip, I’d made an intentional effort to let go of my overprotective, overbearing tendencies as a father. But parenting growth is never a one-time decision—it’s a process. And with my younger son, I knew I was starting fresh.
I made a quiet commitment to myself:
I want to treat Daniel more like a young man than a child—helping him grow into the gentleman God designed, not the version I tried to control.
I hadn’t done that well with David on his first hunt. I was determined to learn from that mistake.
We left the Ozark Mountains late Sunday afternoon after a revival meeting, headed toward Cañon City, Colorado. As we cruised across the flat farmlands of Kansas, the road stretched endlessly ahead of us.
“Let’s play a game to keep this drive from being so boring,” I suggested.
“What kind of game?” Daniel asked.
“I bet I’ll spot more deer than you before it gets too dark. Loser buys ice cream.”
“You’re on!”
What started as a simple game quickly turned competitive—and joyful.
“There’s eight in that hayfield!”
“Nine over here in the corn stubble! I’m one up on ya!”
We laughed. We teased. We watched carefully.
What Daniel didn’t know was that the game wasn’t just about passing time. I was training his eyes—teaching him to notice what blended into the landscape, what others might miss. No lecture. No pressure.
By dusk, the score was tied—until my headlights caught the final deer.
“That’s not fair, Dad,” Daniel protested. “Only you could see that one.”
“That’s life, son,” I said, slipping into my experienced wisdom voice. “You win some, you lose some.”
I laughed—maybe a little too proudly.
But then I caught myself.
“You’ve got a good eye,” I added. “You almost beat me. Keep that alertness in the field.”
And in that moment—competition softened by affirmation—a bond formed.
Sometimes competition, handled well, creates connection faster than conversation ever could.
As the miles rolled by and Daniel fell asleep against the window, I asked myself a familiar question:
Why can’t this kind of warmth and openness be the norm for our children’s lives?
I knew the answer wasn’t control.
It wasn’t lectures.
And it certainly wasn’t fear.
It was connection.
***
Why This Story Matters
That car ride taught me something I didn’t fully understand at the time:
Discernment grows best in safe, relational spaces—often when we’re not trying to teach it at all.
Games. Conversations. Questions. Listening. Those moments laid groundwork for something bigger—something that would matter far beyond a hunting trip.
Which brings me to the heart of this post.
***
Why Asking the Right Questions Matters
One of the most important lessons I’ve learned as a parent isn’t how to give better answers.
It’s how to ask better questions.
In a world that is loud, opinionated, and often hostile to biblical values, our instinct is to correct quickly, warn loudly, and shield aggressively. Those instincts come from love—but unchecked, they can also produce fear, shutdown, or silent rebellion.
Discernment isn’t taught through panic.
It’s shaped through conversation.
“The goal isn’t to raise children who echo our beliefs, but children who can test ideas when we’re not in the room.”
That deer-spotting game worked because Daniel wasn’t being evaluated—he was being invited to engage, observe, and think.
Why Open-Ended Questions Matter
Closed questions shut conversations down.
“Did you hear something bad today?”
“You know that’s wrong, right?”
“Why would they even say that?”
Those questions usually get one-word answers—or none at all.
Open-ended questions invite thought:
- “What did you think about that?”
- “How did that make you feel?”
- “Why do you think that idea sounds appealing?”
- “Does that line up with what we believe? Why or why not?”
That’s what I was doing—without realizing it—on that Kansas highway. I wasn’t telling Daniel where to look. I was teaching him how to look.
Discernment grows when curiosity is welcomed, not punished.
📖 “The simple believes everything, but the prudent gives thought to his steps.”
— Proverbs 14:15
https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Proverbs+14%3A15&version=ESV
🔗 Teaching Kids to Think Biblically – Focus on the Family
https://www.focusonthefamily.com/parenting/teaching-kids-to-think-biblically/
The Power of Car-Ride Conversations
Some of the best conversations I’ve ever had with my kids didn’t happen at the dinner table.
They happened in the car.
There’s something about forward-facing seats, a shared destination, and the absence of eye contact that lowers defenses. No lectures. No pressure. Just space.
Car rides create a natural rhythm:
- School stories
- Friend drama
- Questions about fairness
- Confusion about culture
- Curiosity about faith
That Kansas drive gave Daniel room to engage without feeling managed. The road did some of the work for me.
Remember this:
Listening longer often teaches more than talking louder.
🔗 Why Car Rides Are Ideal for Parent-Child Conversations – Psychology Today
https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/parenting-and-culture/201909/why-car-rides-are-great-talks-kids
Avoiding the Trap of Over-Correction
Over-correction is understandable.
We see danger.
We see deception.
We see consequences.
So we react fast.
I did that—briefly—when I claimed victory too proudly over the final deer. And I saw it immediately. If I stayed there, I’d win the argument and lose the moment.
When every question is met with alarm, kids learn something unintended:
Some topics aren’t safe to talk about.
Over-correction can:
- Shut down curiosity
- Teach fear instead of wisdom
- Drive questions underground
Instead, aim for calm confidence.
You don’t have to have all the answers.
You don’t have to win every conversation.
You don’t have to fix everything today.
Truth doesn’t panic. It invites examination.
📖 “Let every person be quick to hear, slow to speak, slow to anger.”
— James 1:19
https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=James+1%3A19&version=ESV
🔗 Raising Discerners, Not Just Rule-Followers – Desiring God
https://www.desiringgod.org/articles/raising-children-who-discern
Insights from Jonathan Noyes: Teaching Discernment, Not Fear
In a recent interview, Jonathan Noyes shared an insight that stopped me cold:
“If we teach kids what to think but never how to think, we’ve only delayed the struggle—not prepared them for it.”
That’s the heart of discernment.
It’s exactly what happened on that road trip. Daniel wasn’t memorizing rules—he was learning awareness, patience, and evaluation.
Noyes emphasizes helping children:
- Identify assumptions
- Ask why ideas sound appealing
- Recognize emotional manipulation
- Compare ideas to a biblical worldview without hostility
Discernment isn’t about suspicion—it’s about clarity.
🔗 Jonathan Noyes Interview
https://www.str.org/w/how-can-i-fight-the-secular-ideas-my-children-learn-from-school-and-media-
Practical Takeaways for Parents
Here are a few simple shifts that make a big difference:
✅ Ask more than you answer
✅ Let silence do some of the work
✅ Affirm curiosity before correction
✅ Model humility when you don’t know
✅ Keep conversations ongoing—not final
“Faith that can’t be questioned is often faith that hasn’t been owned.”
Discernment isn’t built in one talk.
It’s built over years of trust-filled conversations.
Final Thought
Our children don’t need us to be afraid for them.
They need us to walk with them.
Asking the right questions doesn’t weaken faith—it strengthens it.
And when fear steps aside, discernment finally has room to grow.
Stay Connected
Staying connected doesn’t mean hovering.
It means remaining present when questions arise.
Our children are navigating ideas we never faced at their age—and pretending otherwise doesn’t protect them. Relationship does. Conversation does. Trust does.
Because the strongest influence in their lives won’t be the loudest voice online.
It will be the one that listened first.
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In His Service,
Ron