Rule #84: There Are Always Boulders
Every parent has that “wise” speech we give our kids. It usually goes something like this:
“If you follow your passions and use the gifts God gave you, you’ll find happiness. If you work at something you love, it won’t feel like work.”
Sounds good. Inspiring even. Unfortunately—it’s complete nonsense.
Every path worth taking is full of obstacles. Big ones. Boulders that block the trail. There are no smooth, straight roads, and certainly none without work. Kids grow up believing passion will carry them straight to Emerald City, skipping along with munchkins. Then they meet witches, flying monkeys, and a path that suddenly feels uphill. And they think: Wait, this isn’t what I signed up for.
I see it all the time. The cello is fun until the hours of practice kick in. Basketball is great until the alarm goes off at 6 a.m. Science is fascinating until that first failed bio exam. Everything kids love eventually gets hard—and when it does, many want to quit.
The real challenge for parents isn’t clearing the boulders for them. It’s helping them decide what to do when the path gets tough. Here’s the process I’ve found helpful:
Step 1: Healthy or Unhealthy
Not every boulder is just a test of grit. Some are warnings.
Football is a good example. Concussions, torn ACLs, broken bones—sometimes the right move isn’t “rub some dirt on it,” it’s walk away. I’ve failed here myself. When Collin broke his collarbone, I told him to stop being a baby and get back in. Not my finest moment.
This is tough for parents of kids who are almost good enough—because when they hit a physical limit, it isn’t just their dream that ends, it’s ours too. But sometimes the healthiest choice really is to head back to munchkin-land and pick a different road.
Step 2: Teach Climbing Skills
More often, kids hit a boulder and just don’t know how to get over it.
When they say, “Track isn’t fun anymore,” parents feel two things: relief that Saturday mornings are free again, and disappointment after all the time and money invested. Before we jump in, we have to listen. Is this a true change of heart—or just the first taste of hard?
That’s when we teach them climbing skills. Pacing themselves. Breaking big goals into smaller steps. Learning to hike around the obstacle—maybe dropping travel sports but keeping the joy of the game. The point isn’t to move the boulders; it’s to show kids how to navigate them.
Step 3: Do Nothing
This one shocked me. A business partner once said, “We can always do nothing and let the problem play out.” As a Type A, that felt impossible. But he was right.
Parenting works the same way. Sometimes the best role is lifeguard: sitting close, not in the water, not blowing the whistle at every wave. Quitting a sport or getting a regrettable tattoo (at 21, Collin—please note the age) might be dumb decisions, but they’re not fatal ones. Kids need room to stumble and learn.
So how much does it matter if your child drops football, cheerleading, or cello? With time, you’ll see how little it shapes their life. What matters is not what they do, but how they live—and whether they know they’re loved and heard.
Because boulders will always be there. We can’t move them. But we can listen, guide, and remind our kids that the power to keep walking—or to change direction—has always been theirs. And once they believe that, every road is possible.
Love, Dad