What We Plant in Our Children Grows for Generations

There are days when motherhood feels very immediate, the dishes in the sink, laundry waiting to be

folded, chores that need doing, the questions, lessons, the sibling disagreements, meals, bedtime routines and the list goes on.  So much of motherhood is simply getting through the day.

But every now and then, I stop and think about something bigger, What am I actually planting?  Because our children won't stay children forever, someday, they will have homes of their own.  They will make their own decisions, they will sit around their own dinner tables and they will raise their own children.

The things we intentionally plant in them today will become the things they carry into those homes tomorrow.  That's a sobering thought, but it's also a beautiful one.  Because we aren't just raising children.

We're planting things that may grow for generations.

The First Thing I Want to Plant: A Love for God

Above everything else, I want my children to know God.  Not simply know about Him, I want them to know Him.  I want them to recognize His goodness in the ordinary things.  In a beautiful sunrise, rain after a dry season, food on our table, in the animals we care for, in answered prayers and the people He puts in our lives.

I want thankfulness toward God to become part of who they are.  Not something they say because they're reminded to.  But something that naturally comes from recognizing how much we've been given.

I want them to understand that every good thing comes from Him.  And when life isn't easy, I want them to know where to turn.  To pray, to trust, to give thanks and to seek Him.

If I could plant only one thing in my children's hearts, it would be a deep love for God and a lifelong thankfulness for who He is.  Everything else can grow from there.

I Want Them to Learn What It Means to Be Christ-Like

I don't just want my children to hear about Jesus, I want them to see what it means to live like Him.  To be kind when kindness isn't convenient, to forgive, to serve, to help someone who needs it.  To speak gently and show compassion.  To love people who may not look, think, or live exactly as we do.  To choose grace, to apologize when we've been wrong.  To offer a do-over and to love big.

We won't always get it right, none of us do.  But I want my children to grow up understanding that being Christ-like isn't something we simply talk about on Sunday.  It's how we live Monday through Saturday, too.  It's in the way we treat the person who is difficult, it's in the way we respond when we're frustrated and it's in whether we notice someone who needs help.  It's in whether we choose kindness when no one is watching.

Those are the seeds I want to keep planting.

I Want to Plant a Strong Work Ethic

I want my children to understand that the things that matter are worth working for.  Not everything in life will come easily and that's okay.  I want them to know the satisfaction that comes from working hard and seeing something through.

There is something beautiful about accomplishing something with your own two hands.  Planting a garden and watching it grow, caring for an animal, finishing a difficult project, learning something that once seemed impossible, building a business.  Working toward a dream and showing up when you don't feel like it.

I want them to understand that work isn't something to run from, it is meaningful.  It can provide, create, serve others and it can teach us patience and perseverance.  And when you're working toward something that is important to you, hard work becomes less about simply getting through the task and more about building something you believe in.

I hope my children carry that with them.

I Want Them to Know How to Welcome People

I want our home to be a place where people feel welcome, not because everything is perfect, because it rarely is.  But because there is always room for one more.

I want my children to learn hospitality.  To offer a seat, share what we have, to pour another glass of tea.  To make someone feel comfortable and notice when someone is standing alone.  To welcome people without worrying whether the house is spotless or the meal is impressive, because hospitality isn't really about entertaining.  It's about making room for people.

And I hope my children grow into adults who do that naturally, open their homes, pull up another chair,  make others feel seen and understand that what we have is meant to be shared.

I Want Them to Be Kind

Kindness seems simple, but I think it is one of the most powerful things we can teach.  I want kindness to become instinctive.  To help someone carry something, to include someone, to speak encouragement instead of tearing someone down.  To care for animals gently, to treat people with dignity, to recognize that everyone we meet is carrying something we may know nothing about.

And I want them to understand that kindness isn't weakness, it takes strength to choose kindness.  Especially when anger would be easier, especially when pride wants to win, especially when no one is watching.

Those little choices become character, and character is something I hope my children carry long after they leave our home.

I Want Them to Love Their People Well

One of the greatest things we can give our children is time.  Time around the dinner table, on the porch, time riding horses, time in the garden.  Time at the river, in the truck, laughing together.  Time talking about nothing important and everything important.

I want my children to understand that the people closest to us are worth our time.  Life moves quickly, there will always be another chore, another appointment, another thing that needs to be done.  But I don't want us to be so busy building a life that we forget to live it together.

I want them to remember that family was something we valued.  That we showed up for one another, that we made time, we laughed, we gathered.  That we stayed connected.

I Want Them to Carry Our Stories

Every family has stories, the funny ones, the hard ones.  The stories about grandparents, and the stories about where we came from.  The stories about mistakes we've made and the stories about God's faithfulness.

The stories that get told around the dinner table over and over until everyone knows the ending, those stories matter.  They remind our children that they belong to something bigger than themselves.

And someday, I hope they tell those stories to their own children, maybe they'll add stories of their own.  And maybe, without even realizing it, they'll be passing along pieces of the home they grew up in.

We Are Planting More Than We Realize

Sometimes I wonder if we understand just how much our ordinary days matter.  Our children are watching, they are listening.  They are learning from what we do just as much as from what we say.  They see how we treat people, how we respond when things go wrong.  How we speak about God, how we work, how we rest.  How we welcome people, how we handle disappointment and how we love.  How we apologize and how we give thanks.

The little things are becoming big things, the ordinary moments are shaping them.  And that's why I want to be intentional, not perfect.  Intentional.

Because I know I won't get everything right, there will be impatient moments, there will be mistakes and there will be days when I wish I had responded differently.

But there will also be do-overs, grace, apologies and another chance to plant something good.

What Will Grow From These Seeds?

I don't know exactly what my children's adult lives will look like.  I don't know where they'll live, what they'll do or who they'll marry.  What their homes will look like or what kind of parents they may someday become.

But I do know what I hope we've planted, a love for God, a thankful heart, a desire to live like Christ, a willingness to work hard.  Kindness, hospitality, generosity, love for family.  A deep appreciation for time together, a respect for creation, a willingness to serve, a home where people feel welcome.  And a faith that isn't simply inherited but lived.

Because Someday, They Will Plant Their Own Seeds

This is the part of motherhood that humbles me most.  Someday, my children will have the opportunity to build homes of their own.  And I hope they carry pieces of this one with them.

Maybe they'll make the same recipes, tell the same stories, read the same books.  Gather around their own tables, open their doors to friends, take their children outside, pray together, work together and laugh together.

Maybe they'll create traditions that look completely different from ours, and that's okay.  They aren't meant to recreate my life, they're meant to build their own.  But I hope the roots are familiar.

I hope they know where they came from, I hope they know what mattered to us, I hope they know that faith was important.  That people were important and hard work mattered.  That kindness, family and gratitude mattered.  That time together mattered.

And most of all, I hope they know that God was at the center of it all.

Deep Roots Grow Strong Families

Maybe that's what I'm really doing in these ordinary days.  Planting, tending, watering, waiting, trying again.  I may not always see what is growing, but I can keep planting.  A prayer here, a conversation there.  A lesson in kindness, an invitation to dinner, a chore that teaches responsibility.  A family meal with a story from our past.  A quiet moment of thankfulness, a reminder to love like Christ, a slow evening together.

And perhaps someday, long after I'm finished doing these things for my own children, those seeds will still be growing.  In the way they love their families, in the way they welcome people, in the way they work, in the way they serve.  In the way they raise their children, in the way they walk with God.  That is the legacy I want to leave.

Not a perfect home, not a perfect childhood, not a list of accomplishments.  But deep roots.  Roots that hold when the storms come, roots that remind them who they are, roots that point them back to God.  Roots that give them the strength to grow, because we aren't just raising children.  We're planting things that may grow for generations.

And that makes even the smallest, most ordinary moments feel pretty important to me. 

A Little Note for the Mama Planting Seeds Today

Maybe you're wondering whether the little things matter.  They absolutely do.  The prayer you pray over your children tonight matters, the meal you make matters, the story you tell matters.  The kindness you model matters, the work you teach them matters.  The people you welcome into your home matter.  The time you spend together matters and the way you point them toward God matters.  You may not see the harvest today, that's okay.  We're not always called to see the harvest. We're called to faithfully plant.

So keep planting, Mama.  Keep loving, keep praying, keep teaching, keep welcoming, keep giving thanks, keep showing them what it looks like to live a life rooted in Christ.

Because someday, those little seeds may grow into something far bigger than we ever imagined.  And perhaps our greatest legacy won't be what we leave behind for our children, but what we planted within them. 🤍

Until next time, may your coffee stay warm and your children stay little just a little longer.

-Maggie