A Balanced Upbringing

A Balanced Upbringing

In the cozy living room of a modest home in Port Harcourt, Mrs. Adebayo was visibly upset. Her ten-year-old son, Chike, stood in the corner with his head bowed after being caught in a lie about his homework.

"Why are you behaving like this?" she scolded, her voice rising. "Where on earth did you learn such dishonesty?"

Her longtime friend, Mrs. Okonkwo, who had stopped by for a visit, gently intervened. "Sister, why are you blaming the boy so harshly?"

Mrs. Adebayo turned to her, incredulous. "What do you mean? Didn't you hear what he did? He lied straight to my face! And this is the same child we take to church every Sunday without fail."

Mrs. Okonkwo smiled softly and leaned forward. "That's true—we do take them to church every Sunday. But let me ask you this: how many Sundays are there in a month?"

Mrs. Adebayo paused. "Usually four... sometimes five."

"Exactly," her friend continued. "And on those Sundays, how many hours do our children actually spend in church before we hurry them home for lunch or rest? Two hours? Three at most?"

Mrs. Adebayo nodded slowly. "You're right—not more than three."

"So," Mrs. Okonkwo pressed gently, "how do we expect them to absorb deep moral values in just twelve to fifteen hours a month? We complain when they misbehave, yet we invest far more in their secular education—and rightly so. They spend five full days a week in school, six to eight hours a day, plus extra lessons, homework, and weekend tutoring. We buy every textbook, exercise book, and school supply without hesitation."

Mrs. Adebayo shifted uncomfortably. "That's different. School is important for their future."

"Of course it is," Mrs. Okonkwo agreed. "But spiritual and moral formation is just as vital for their character. Yet we rarely take them to midweek Bible study, Sunday school programs, or youth fellowship. If the church announces a special children's event, we often say, 'Church is too much this week.' But if the school schedules an excursion, inter-house sports, or PTA meeting—no matter how inconvenient—we clear our schedules and make it happen."

She paused for emphasis. "Many of our children don't even own personal Bibles. We haven't taught them to read Scripture daily or pray on their own. We equip them brilliantly for exams and careers, but leave their hearts undernourished. We're doing one important thing while leaving the other undone."

Mrs. Adebayo fell silent, reflecting. After a moment, she walked over to Chike and pulled him into a gentle embrace. "I'm sorry I was so harsh, my son. Mummy and Daddy will do better. From now on, we'll make time for both—your schoolwork and your walk with God."

Mrs. Okonkwo smiled warmly. "That's the balance our children truly need. Strong minds and strong spirits—together they make whole, upright adults."

The two women shared a knowing look, both resolved to guide the next generation not just toward success, but toward genuine goodness.