Our Children’s Battles: Spiritual Warfare & the Example of Young Washington
I watched the movie Young Washington and saw the spiritual battle taking place in our first president. I just wasn’t sure exactly what that spiritual battle was.
Our Founding Father was only 11 years old when his father died. Young George was then left to be raised be a single mom. He was denied formal education, a commission as an officer in the king’s army, and eventually the hand of his sweetheart in Marriage.
The movie brings to life scenes of young Washington surveying the Ohio territory and fighting the French and Indians. Later he would fight and defeat the British, the same king’s army that had rejected him in his youth.
I already knew much of Washington’s story, even of his early years.
What I hadn’t expected was to feel such a maternal tenderness toward the boy. As I watched him sitting alone at his father’s funeral, I didn’t see a future president; I saw a hurting child. I understood his angrily chopping down a tree in grief and frustration. I felt the pain, both his and his mother’s, when he lashed out at this grieving widow claiming it was her fault he had been denied his education and was sent home to fulfill family duties.
It was in part maternal tenderness that helped me understand the seriousness of the invisible battle young Washington faced.
I realized his greatest enemy was not the rugged wilderness of the Ohio wilderness, the brutality of the French and Indians, or the British who treated him so unjustly.
The enemy he most needed to defeat lay within himself.
It was the ancient evil-doer who ambushes human souls through normal human experiences resulting in feelings of disappointment, fear, shame, anger, pride, and a desire to prove ourselves in order to earn love or respect.
I realized America’s first president, the courageous leader we picture fearlessly crossing the Delaware, first had to overcome being a lost little boy whose father left him alone and the burdens associated with that.
I realized it was the same plight many of our fatherless children face today although the battleground looks different from the outside.
I speak to many parents about concerns they have for their children. They worry about children split between two households, about what happens when mom is not there to ward off dad’s anger or drinking, and about what happens when children are forced to meet the affair partner, when they’re sick or hurt or just misses mom on a long dark night. As kids get older a parent’s worry shifts to a child’s dating, AI, unemployment, inflation, war, addiction, and more.
But none of these reflect may faith-filled parents’ greatest fear: children who leave the faith.
That often begins, not with a sudden departure from faith although it may seem sudden to a parent caught off guard. Instead it begins with a slow submission to the same interior battles Washington had to conquer.
Our children face a patient and cunning enemy with longterm plans. It is not an enemy of flesh and blood but of principalities and powers of darkness. These were the enemies young Washington needed to defeat to become the man and leader he was.
Your children may not be called to ride into battle and form their own country, but knowing those who came before us overcame the same enemy gives us hope and helps lead us to victory.
The Battle Against Anger
When George’s father died, his world changed overnight. The education he hoped for was no longer possible. New responsibilities fell on his shoulders. Opportunities suddenly disappeared.
His disappointment was valid.
Your children may be in a similar boat facing similar disappointments.
The anger children after loss feel is understandable, but it can’t rule over them.
In one scene, George Washington lashes out at his mother, blaming her for the position he is forced into. As I watched, I felt sympathy for both of them.
Every parent who has raised a hurting child has likely experienced this. A child who feels safest with you, sometimes wounds you deeply. A hurting child often lashes out at a loyal parent because he feels safer with that parent. He knows he cannot lash out at the abandoning parent for fear of retribution or further abandonment.
In George’s case, he had no father to lash out at and so his mother took the brunt of his anger. In his pain, he failed to recognize his mother was suffering too. She was a widow trying to provide for her family, carrying responsibilities we cannot imagine today.
George’s anger was understandable, but understandable is not the same as righteous.
Because he was wounded, he sought to wound his mother.
Because he was disappointed, he looked for someone to blame.
Maybe you’ve seen your children do this too. They snap at you when you are trying your best. They lash out at you when you’re bone tired and stuck in your own grief.
And you lash back
The enemy loves that.
He loves division. He loves broken relationships. He loves turning pain into resentment.
George eventually learned what our children must learn too; disappointment does not excuse dishonor, and hurt does not excuse sin.
The Battle Against Pride
Washington also faced a battle against pride. He was defeated by pride in his defeat at the Battle of Fort Necessity. There, letting pride win didn’t just mean losing a military battle to the French. It meant the loss of his friend Chris and many other good men.
Pride tells us we know better, we don’t need advice, and we are strong enough on our own.
The enemy loves pride because pride blinds us.
It keeps us from listening, learning, and growing.
Pride keeps us thinking we have to prove our worth in order to be loved, respected, or accepted.
Children, rejected by a parent who chooses part time parenting in favor of a full time extramarital partner, often feel this same need. They blame themselves for parental abandonment. They attempt to prove their worth.
Some do this by becoming overachievers. Others do it through rebellion as if proving they were not worth staying for.
In reality, a child should be loved the way Our Father Loves each of us: sacrificially, unconditionally, eternally.
No child should feel she needs to earn a distant parent’s love. The idea that they could is a pride doubly painful because it is one borne of fear and doubt.
It is a pride that is soul crushing.
The weight of Washington’s loss was crushing in a different way, but the remarkable thing was that he faced his failure. He sought forgiveness. He learned. He accepted responsibility. He chose service over self-pity.
The devil would have loved to bury him under shame and guilt the same way Washington’s friends were buried beneath the dirt and rubble. The devil would love to bury your children the same way.
Washington gives an example of how to humble ourselves and continued forward.
Washington experienced military pride. Children experience the need to prove themselves after rejection.
Both stem from the same lie that worth must be proven.
The Battle Against Approval
One of the most amazing facts about Washington’s early military career is that he survived what should have been certain death, a fact shown by multiple bullet holes in his coat and hat. Indian sharp shooters targeted him specifically, yet he was unhurt. The Native Americans believed Providence protected him.
But Washington didn’t build his identity around what others were said about him.
He acted before receiving their approval because he believed he served something bigger than himself.
At one point, when asked what was worth such risk, he simply answered, “My men.”
Then he rode toward danger not away from it.
He didn’t wait for someone to tell him he was brave, worthy, or chosen. He acted according to his duty.
In fact, he rode despite the British rejecting him. He rode when an officer cowardly retreated. He rode because it was the right thing to do.
Children are not the only ones who are confused by what to do today. “Going along to get along” is common. Even adults wait to see which way the wind blows before making decisions.
But children of single parent homes have it harder. They have half the eyes watching over them and half the role models guiding them. They have identities built in parental rejection and efforts to prove their worth.
This makes it harder for them to act for good without prior approval from parents or peers.
Yet acting in faith is what Christians are called to do. We do not wait for the world to validate us, for social media to approve of us, or for others to tell us we matter.
Scripture has already done that.
Your children are made in the image and likeness of God, fearfully and wonderfully made. They are beloved sons and daughters of The King even before they are yours. They are worth courageous sacrifice as Christ sacrificed for them.
Their identity is not determined by public opinion; it is determined by God.
Winning the Battle
The older I get, the more convinced I become that of life’s most important battles are fought long before we ever see them.
We battle against anger, pride, shame, fear, desiring approval, and despair.
Washington fought those battles.
So do our children.
To be honest, so do we.
The enemy uses the same weapons he has always used: division, discouragement, defeat, despair, and diminishment.
But God gives us weapons too.
Courage.
Humility.
Service.
Sacrifice.
Faith.
Love.
These are tools that build strong families, communities, and nations.
Most importantly, they are the weapons that help us see ourselves as Beloved children of God.
When we choose to fight our own anger, pride, and a desire for approval, we show our children how to fight, overcome, lead, and more importantly, how to love.
It is love that defeats the enemy, love that heals our children, love that never dies and never rejects.
The real battle is rarely the person in front of us.
The real battle is the one within us.
And with God’s grace, that is a battle we can win.
God Bless…
Kerri
PS. Despite attacks on Marriage, family, faith, and community, I am convinced God never abandons His children. He walks with us through storms we would not have chosen to bring good we could not have found.
I continuously find myself returning to one solid truth:
There is hidden good even in life’s hardest challenges.
That idea is shaping my life and how I walk through betrayal, crisis pregnancy, abuse, parenting, disappointment, grief, and healing. It’s shaping how I lead women, still in the thick of the battle, to grow stronger in faith, resilience, purpose, and love.
If you’d like a little lift in your journey, I’d love to invite you to join my newsletter. Each week you’ll receive a challenge, prayer, and encouragement, to help you discover the hidden good in your own life even when it’s hard to see.
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