Older officers, retired officers, those who are much farther ahead of me on the trail of life and officership—those are my people. At almost any and every Army gathering you will find my husband, Daniel, and I spending time with people who have many more years under their Salvation Army caps than us.

We do this for many reasons: they are fun and unfiltered; they have the best stories; they always get called to the buffet line first; they love showing off their families; and they always make my boys feel so seen and special. I’d like to give a shout out to the majors and colonels who sat beside and in front of us during commissioning events at Massey Hall in Toronto last year, and never once made me feel bad for my loud and squirmy boys, who tried their absolute best to sit in those tiny rows without kicking anyone. You probably don’t remember, but your kind words and encouragement meant the world to me.

In our years of hanging out with these lovely people, I have grown in confidence to be able to ask them the question that is always at the forefront of my mind: “What piece of advice do you wish someone had given you at my age?” We have received some great answers, from “sneak out of the office once a month and go to a matinee (or even just have a nap),” to “block off time in your schedule to be alone together” (see what I mean by fun and unfiltered).

But there is one piece of advice that every older officer gives us every single time: prioritize your kids. This advice is usually followed by a change in their demeanor—sadness in their eyes and stories about how they regret some decisions when it comes to their kids. My heart always breaks. Thankfully, many of these officers also tell us what they would do differently: involve their kids more in ministry.

If you know us, you know that we almost always come as a party of five (eight if you include the dog, cat and gecko; 10 if you include the two stray cats we feed on our front porch). Sometimes it feels like a bit of a circus. We find ourselves apologizing or being fearful of what “they” will say when we all arrive, because we didn’t force our kids to go to childcare. Or when we politely decline something because it just doesn’t work for our family. Or cringing when one of our kids just kicked the colonel’s seat … again.

Involving our kids in ministry is great in theory, but when the rubber meets the road, it’s messy, chaotic, sometimes embarrassing and always stressful. But then I remember that some of the sweetest times we’ve had as a family were when we were doing kingdom work together: putting in a 12-hour day packing toys for families and eating pizza on the floor; crowding around a kettle and scaring off as many donations as we receive; the boys standing with their dad to accept a fundraising cheque at our Christmas tree lighting.

Life is all about living in the tension between messy and beautiful, chaotic and peaceful, embarrassing and vulnerable. It’s about trying our best while being willing to sacrifice for the souls and sanctification of our children.

It’s not that the officers who have gone before me weren’t willing to sacrifice—they can just see further now with the gift of hindsight and are offering me that gift in a beautiful and vulnerable way. Let’s be honest, who wants to admit they didn’t do everything perfectly?

I’m so grateful for these kind souls because someday I want to be that kind soul. I want to be an 80-year-old “brigadier” sitting across the table from a new officer, reminiscing about the “glory days” and offering them proven advice because I have three kids who love Jesus and love The Salvation Army. I look forward to the day when I can see myself in a young officer and tell her, “Look, I don’t know a lot, but I know this ….”

We need to do better by our kids because we know better—and the reason we know better is because we are surrounded by a great cloud of witnesses who are willing and able to help us know and do better. Whether that’s with prayer, sharing their stories or not getting mad at a young family whose kid constantly kicks their seats.

Find your great cloud of witnesses. Ask them what you want to know. Then partner with them to do whatever it takes for the souls and sanctification of our children.

Captain Bhreagh Rowe is the community ministries officer, St. Albert Church and Community Centre, Alta.

Photo: Prixel Creative/Lightstock.com