I never imagined I’d actually use this phrase in a real-life moment. But today, it happened.
One of our kids is in high school, and if you’ve ever raised (or been) a teenager, you know—the drama is real. To a high schooler, these situations feel intense, consuming, and absolute. To us adults on the outside, they can seem like… well, drama. If only we knew then what we know now.
Lately, my daughter has been navigating some tough dynamics with her friends. She’s a wise soul, and we often spend our evenings talking through what she experiences at school—especially how social media magnifies every emotion, every misunderstanding. The digital world has done our youth no favors.
She was frustrated today—angry that one friend had forgiven another for what she saw as rude and hurtful behavior. She couldn’t understand why someone would just let it go. I tried to explain that forgiveness is a choice, and that her friend had made his. Whether that turns out to be a wise decision or not… that’s his journey to walk.
Knowing she’s been reading the Bible lately, I gently asked, “What would Jesus do?”
Jesus offers forgiveness and grace in ways we can hardly wrap our human minds around. And at His core, all God wants is a relationship with each of us—and for us to treat others the way He would: with love, grace, forgiveness, and without judgment.
I encouraged her to think about that. To lead with kindness. To be the shoulder, not the sword. To forgive, even when it’s hard. To extend grace, even when it’s undeserved. To remember that none of us are the judge—God holds that role. At the same time, I reminded her that God doesn’t ask us to be pushovers. He calls us to have boundaries—to protect our hearts and our peace—while trusting Him to handle the judgment.
I don’t consider myself religious. But spiritual? Absolutely. My relationship with God is a work in progress—growing, stretching, and becoming more real with each day. And I’ve been praying, truly praying, for ways to help my kids come to know Him.
Today felt like a quiet answer to that prayer.
The conversation was natural. Honest. Unforced. It may have started with high school drama, but it ended with something holy.
It’s moments like these—quiet conversations at the end of a long day—that remind me God is always present, even in the everyday messes of high school friendships and teenage emotions. He shows up in the small talks, the teachable moments, the gentle nudges to extend love and truth. I may not have all the answers, but I’m learning that guiding my kids toward Him doesn’t require perfection—just presence, honesty, and a heart willing to grow alongside theirs. And today, that was more than enough.