You may not hit 100 affirmations a day. But you can hit one that matters. Your words have power, speak life, shape identity, and help your kids grow up secure in who they are and Whose they are.

Parents often tell their kids, “Put your phone down and go outside.” But inside many homes, the glow of screens reflects something deeper: our children are learning their tech habits from us.

“Kids come home with a full heart and a full head,” says Dr. Kathy Koch. “They’ve talked all day, followed rules they didn’t make, sat through subjects they didn’t choose. Then they walk in the door and we immediately ask for more words.”

Even if families seem unaffected, children notice tone, tension, and shifts in their routines. In these moments, parents become the first line of security, not by solving every crisis, but by being steady when everything else feels unpredictable.

dDn’t just drill, connect, repeat, and wonder. When Dr. Kathy Koch read the study, she smiled big.

Every parent wants their child to succeed, but we forget that kids learn to walk by falling. We don’t see them tumble and say, ‘Well, I guess they’ll never walk.’ We cheer, because every fall is part of progress.

For many, success looks like good grades, hard work, and confidence. Those are good things. But if we stop there, we risk raising kids who know how to achieve but not how to live.

Gaming isn’t evil; it’s a mirror. It shows us where our kids are finding their worth. Even the rich young ruler struggled with this. His sense of self came from what he could control and achieve. Jesus offered him freedom through surrender.

A recent study published by the Journal of the American Medical Association found that children ages 9–13 who spent more time on social media performed significantly lower on tests of reading, memory, and vocabulary than their peers who used little or none.

Math is more than memorization or mastery; it’s discipleship in order. When kids learn math, they’re practicing the discipline of faith: believing there’s structure, beauty, and truth even when it’s hard to see.

Our kids don’t need artificial companions; they need authentic connection. They need to learn that real love is costly, that friendship is refining, and that no chatbot can mirror the image of God in another person.

Compassion without condescension teaches kids to see people through God’s eyes, as fully capable, fully loved, and fully human. When our homes are filled with that kind of awareness, empathy becomes instinctive, not forced.

“Confusion is never fun,” Dr. Kathy says. “But when we meet confusion with compassion, that’s where identity starts to heal.”

Kids are busier than ever, yet lonelier than ever. They have every toy, every screen, every opportunity, but many don’t feel good about themselves. They often feel anxious, restless, unsure who they are or where they belong.

When your child asks about the violence they see, don’t panic.
Pause.
Pull them close.
Pray together.

Tell them, “Yes, the world is broken, but God is healing it. And He’s invited us to help.”

Many parents quietly wrestle with questions that don’t have easy answers. When should my child get a phone? How much freedom is too much? We want to trust our kids, but we also see how technology changes them, how it shapes moods, sleep, confidence, and attention.

Cultural renewal doesn’t mean canceling everything that’s worldly; it means redeeming what can be redeemed and celebrating what points to truth. It means teaching our kids that joy is deeper than hype and belonging is holier than popularity.

When Dr. Kathy said those words on the Celebrate Kids Podcast, I couldn’t help but pause. It’s a bold statement in a world where technology often feels like the solution to everything, from faster reading apps to “smart” classrooms. But maybe the real “smart” begins when we put the screens away and look up.

Parenting isn’t about perfection — it’s about partnership with the One who still calls children close. When you celebrate kids, you join Jesus in the sacred work of restoring wonder, value, and life to a world that’s forgotten how to see them.